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Issue 43.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1984. ; ;,!~ " A ,Call to Collegiality in the Service of Religious Christocentric Celibacy Volume 43 Number 2 March/April, 1984 The Vocation Director's Task of Evaluation REvtit.'w It:or REI.IGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X). published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis. MO 63108. REVIEW ~:OR REI.IGIOtJS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. Louis. MO. © 1984 by REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage)¯ For subscription orders or change of address, write R~:vlEw yon RF.I.IC.tOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor ¯ Review Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1984 Volume 43 Number 2 Manuscripts, hooks for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to R~:wr:w for REL~GIOOS; 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 R~:wEw ro~ RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. L ~uis, MO 63108. "Out of print' issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms Internal. real; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. The Pastoral Service of Bishops to Religious John R. Quinn In August of 1983, Archbishop Quinn, chairman of the pontifical commission on religious life in the United Slates, addressed the Leadership Conference of Religious Women sharing his reflec-tions on religious life. In November, he shared with his fellow bishops his reflections on their pastoral office as this regards religious.This is the text of that address. Lst April, on the feast of the Lord's Resurrection, the Holy Father addressed a letter to each of us. In that letter he enunciated a new and funda-mental concept that gives meaning to everything else in his letter, and which explains the task we bishops are to accomplish: I now turn to you, the bishops of the United Slates, asking you during this Holy Year to render special pastoral service to the religious of your dioceses and your country.~ Before I deal with the meaning of this special pastoral service, I would like to say something about our role as bishops, which is the foundation of this service. The Office of Bishop The Vatican Council and postc0nciliar documents of the magisterium have elaborated in some detail the doctrine of episcopal collegiality. And the Holy Father has emphasized this concept in speaking to us. Christus Dominus puts it this way: "By divine institution and by virtue of their apostolic office, all of [the bishops] are jointly responsible for the Church.2 And in, his address to the bishops of the United States on September 19, the pope, speaking of this special pastoral service, said: I am deeply grateful to our Lord Jesus Christ that this initiative., is seen for what it is, 161 162/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 an application--an extremely important application--of the principle of collegiality, a principle so forcefully enunciated by the Second Vatican Council. In proposing this initiative to your pastoral zeal, my first intention has been to affirm collegial responsibil-ity for the state of religious life, which is intimately linked to the mystery of the Church and to the mystery of the episcopate. He then adds: This pastoral endeavor is of such importance that it could be fulfilled only by a full collegial commitment on the part of the bishops of the United States. This special pastoral service, then, is primarily a manifestation of episcopal collegiality: the Successor of Peter, head of the episcopal college, is calling us, his brothers, to this service of religious, which is an aspect of our own office as bishops. Speaking~of the episcopal office, the council teaches: The Spirit dwelled in the Church and in the hearts of the faithful as in a temple. In them he prays and bears witness to the fact that they are adopted sons and daughters. The Spirit guides the Church into the fullness of truth and gives her unity of fellowship and service. He furnishes and directs her with various gifts, both hierarchical and charis-matic, and adorns her with the fruits of his graceP And because the charism and gifts of the Spirit are not dispersed in some random manner, but in a certain ordered relationship, the council states: There is only one Spirit who, according to his own richness and the needs of the ministries, distributes his different gifts for the welfare of the Church. Among these gifts stands out the grace given to the apostles. To their authority the Spirit himself subjected even those who were endowed with charisms.4 Thus, according to Catholic faith, while the apostolic office is indeed a gift or charism of the Spirit, it is not simply one among many co-equal charisms. It is for this reason that the drcument Mutuae Relationes affirms: Bishops, in union with the Roman Pontiff, receive from Christ the head the duty of discerning gifts and competencies, of coordinating multiple energies and of guiding the entire people in living in the world as a sign and instrument of salvation. They therefore are also entrusted with the duty of earing for religious charisms, all the more so because the very indivisibility of their pastoral mihistry makes them responsible for perfecting the entire flock, in this way, by fostering religious life and protecting it in conformity with its own definite characteristics, bishops fulfill a real pastoral duty.~ Perfector totius gr~gis, the bishop, by reason of his office, has pastoral responsibility for the religious in his diocese. This deeper understanding of our role as bishops, however, raises certain questions for us and for religious. One of these is the relationship between our pastoral responsibility and the internal autonomy of religious. In this connec-tion the document on the relationship between bishops and religious affirms: Institutes, then, have an internal organization all their own which has its proper field of competency and a right to autonomy even though in the Church this autonomy can never become independence.6 Likewise, Canon 586 of the new Code of Canon Law states: The Service of Bishops to Religious A true autonomy of life, especially of governance, is recognized for each institute . Local ordinaries have the responsibility of preserving and safeguarding this autonomy. I think it is true to say that in the past at least we have judged that, because most institutes were of pontifical fight, they were the exclusive concern of the Holy See. There was good will, but a large measure of distancing from reli-gious communities in the belief that religious communities were not part of our responsibility. Because of this, both religious and bishops came to assume that there were only two possible relationships: either control by the bishop, or detached good will. It is precisely the adequacy of this dichotomy which the mandate of the Holy Father has called into question. Autonomy or control do not exhaust the possible relationships between religious and the local bishop. There is a third possibility which the pope sees inherent in our episcopal office--beyond con-trol, beyond detachment--it is called "special pastoral service." And so nowhere in his letter or in the document Essential Elements is the canonical autonomy of religious denied or mitigated. Bishops are not consti-tuted major superiors of the religious congregations in their dioceses. In fact Essential Elements deals at some length with ex officio religious authority in religious institutes and conferred on them by the Church. The pope is not abrogating this authority, and he insists that he is only calling the bishops to something which is "in the precise area of episcopal competence."7 Because all of this touches on the fundamental issue of ecclesiology, it seems to me appropriate here to say something about what are called "differ-ing ecclesiologies." I think we all recognize that from the New Testament through the Fathers and the ensuing history of theology there has been a variety of legitimate ecclesiologies. Lumen Gentium itself, especially in Chap-ter l, witnesses to this variety. At the same time, it is important to recognize with equal clarity that all authentically Catholic ecclesiologies are rooted in and are expressions of a single more basic reality--the living Church--which is both trinitarian and incarnational, and whose objective reality always involves the compenetration of the visible and the invisible, the human and the divine, the charismatic and the hierarchical. This legitimate variety becomes defective, however, when the institutional component of the Church is considered separable from the spiritual, or when the apostolic-hierarchical element is considered separable from the chaffs-matic. One can sin against the integrity of the ecclesial mystery by affirming l the hierarchical and rejecting the charismatic, or, equally, by affirming tbel charistmatic and rejecting the hierarchical-apostolic office in the Church. When in the Creed we profess our faith in the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church, we declare our belief in the total reality of the Church, at once charismatic and hierarchical. We may indeed speak of various models of the Church. But in the final analysis, models are an intellectual construct articulating in limited human terms an objective ecclesial reality, apostolic in structure and doctrine, charis- "1154 /Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 matic and spiritual, which lives and moves through history and which, in all models, is gathered into a single incarnate mystery by the Holy Spirit. Thus, by reason of the apostolic structure of the Church, bishops have a responsibility for religious life in their churches. As a matter of fact, every religious institute comes into existence through the action of the charismatic and hierarchical factors in the Church. The Holy Spirit gives a certain gift to a foundress or founder and only through canonical recognition of that gift does the religious institute as such come into being in the Church. On the other hand, it is this very canonical rec-ognition which guarantees the continuing integrity of the charism of each reli-gious institute, including its "true autonomy of life, especially of governance." Special Pastoral Service In light of this, just what does this special pastoral service mean? Just what is the Holy Father asking of us? In his letter to us, the Holy Father lists six ways we are to carry out this pastoral service: I. Through the preaching of the Gospel and the celebration of the Eucha-rist with them, the bishop is to give a special invitation to religious to walk arm in arm with him "in living fully the mystery of the redemption in union with the whole Church and according to the special charism of their religious life." 2. Catechesis to the entire Church on the Church's teaching on conse-crated life. 3. Special invitation to religious to share with the pastors and the faithful in the Holy Year of Redemption through the path of conversion and penance. 4. Fraternal admonition of individuals or groups who, for whatever reason, have departed from the indispensable norms of religious life or who have adopted positions at variance with the Church's teaching. 5. Appointment of the pontifical delegate and the commission of bishops and the committee of religious. 6. Analysis of the reasons for "the marked decline in the numbers of young people seeking to enter religious life." In his address, which he directed to all the bishops of the United States, on September 19, the pope further elaborated what he is asking of us by this special pastoral service. I will not repeat here the content of that important address, but I would note that the Holy Father describes our task in words such as: call, dialogue, explain, proclaim, remind, help, speak to religious; emphasize the feminine role of women religious, manifest our love to the religious, confirm them in their charism, encourage the religious. In short, our pastoral service is cast in terms of a dialogue of salvation. This is a service which is eminently positive as it is eminently pastoral It cannot be accomplished without our willingness to devote an important The Service of Bishops to Religious amount of quality time to personal contacts with our religious. It cannot be fulfilled as the Holy Father envisions it merely by letters or even exclusively by massive gatherings of our religious for a one-time event. For this reason, it cannot be accomplished in many larger dioceses in the space of a few months. It will take time. And it is to be accomplished in the context of prayer and faith. Thus in his letter the Holy Father urges us to ¯ celebrate the Eucharist and to preach the word of God to our religious. The Meaning of Dialogue And so, what does dialogue mean? As you know, Paul VI conceived the whole of the Church in terms of dialogue. In his first encyclical letter, Ecclesiam Suam, he spoke of his desire "to impress upon the internal relation-ships of the Church the character of a dialogue between members of a body, whose constitutive principle is charity."s Noting that this dialogue is not a denial of the apostolic-hierarchical element of the Church nor a denial of the need for obedience in the Church, he went on to say: "It is our ardent desire that this conversation., should be full of faith~ of charity, of good works, should be intimate and familiar."9 Affirming that "dialogue is a method of accomplishing the apostolic mis-sion . . . an. example of the art of spiritual communication," Pope Paul outlined the characteristics of dialogue in the Church: 1. Clearness: "To review every angle of our language to guarantee that it be understandable, acceptable and well-chosen." 2. Meekness: "The dialogue is not proud, it is not bitter, it is not offensive. Its authority is intrinsic to the truth it explains, to the charity it communicates, to the example it proposes; it is not a command, it is not an imposition. It is peaceful; it avoids violent methods; it is patient; it is generous." 3. Trust: "Trust, not only in the power of one's words, but also in an attitude of welcoming the trust of the interlocutor. Trust promotes confidence and friendship. It binds hearts in mutual adherence to the good, which excludes all self-seeking." 4. Prudence: "Pedagogical. prudence, which esteems highly the psycho-logical and moral circumstances of the other . strives to learn the sensitivi-ties of the hearer and requires that we adapt ourselves and the manner of our presentation in a reasonable way lest we be displeasing and incomprehensible to the other. In the dialogue conducted in this manner, the union of truth and charity, of understanding and love is achieved."~0 Having noted these characteristics which should mark dialogue in the Church, I would like to note two other points of some importance which Paul VI underlines. First he says: "The dialectic of this exercise of thought and patience will make us discover elements of truth also in the opinions of others, it will force us to express our teaching with great fairness."1~ Then he comes to a point of the greatest wisdom, noting: 166 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 Before speaking it is necessary to listen, not only to the other's voice, but to the heart. The other must first be understood; and where he merits it, agreed with. In the very act of trying to make ourselves pastors, fathers and teachers., we must make ourselves their brothers. The spirit of dialogue is friendship and, even more, is service. All this we must remember and strive to put into practice according to the example and com-mandment that Christ left us.~2 And so we are to enter upon this dialogue not from some exalted place. Yes, we are to do it in the profound confidence of the sacred, apostolic office we have received from Christ through the Church. But we are also to accom-plish it with apostolic humility and gentleness, recognizing the religious as our partners in the dialogue. Pope John Paul touches on this in his September 19th address: In the very moment in which we bishops recognize our own need for conversion, the Lord asks us to go out to others--humble and repentant, yet courageous and without fear--to communicate with our brothers and sisters. Christ wants to appeal through us, to invite and call his people, especially his religious, to conversion. The document on the relationship of bishops and religious states the same idea: All pastors, mindful of the apostolic admonition never to be a "dictator over any group that is put in [their] charge, but [to] be an example that the whole flock follow~ ( I Pt 5:3) will rightly be at the same time leaders and members; truly fathers, but also brothers; teachers of the faith, but especially fellow disciples of Christ; those indeed responsible for the perfection of the faithful, but also true witnesses of their [own] personal sanctification.13 Dialogue, then, is a manifestation of a fundamental quality of the Church: organic ecclesial communion and mutuality. Our pastoral service, then, is not one in which we give but do not receive, speak but do not listen, teach but do not learn. For this reason Lumen Gentium states: Christ continually distributes in his body, that is, in the Church, gifts of ministries through which, by his own power, we serve each other unto salvation so that, carrying out the truth in love, we may through all things grow up into him who is our head.j4 Essential Elements Our guide in this pastoral service to our religious is the document Essential Elements. I would now like to offer some orientation for interpreting it. Having listened to what I have just said about dialogue, some may expe-rience the concern that there is no clear or binding teaching about religious life, that dialogue means everything is an open question. It is, then, important to recall what Paul VI says in developing his thought on dialogue: The danger remains. The apostle's art is a risky one. The desire to come together as brothers must not lead to a watering down or subtracting from the truth . [lt] will be for the wise, attentive government of the Church to determine, from time to time, the limits and forms and paths to be followed in maintaining a living and fruitful dialogue.~ First of all, then, it is evident that Essential Elements is not a statement of something new. It does not intend to state some new direction or a new policy. The Service of Bishops to Religious / 167 Thus the final sentence of the introduction states: In the present text addressed to institutes dedicated to apostolic works, this sacred con-gregation confines itself to a clarification and restatement of these essential elements.~6 Essential Elements is a compilation from conciliar and other magisterial documents and from the new Code of Canon Law. In order to interpret the meaning of any point in this document, therefore, the source document must be consulted both in its text and context. Essential Elements, therefore, cannot be correctly understood only by a superficial reading or without reference to the source documents which are clearly indicated in the text. Second, the binding force of Essential Elements is derived from two things: from the magisterial and canonical sources from which it derives, but also and importantly from the fact that this compilation has been mandated by the Holy Father and has been sent by him to the bishops following upon his approval of the document. It is also important to keep in mind that this document cannot be applied blindly and without regard for the long-standing principles governing the interpretation of magisterial and canonical documents. Religious life is simply not a univocal reality in the Church. There are many differences, for example, between the religious life of the Daughters of Charity and Maryknoll, between Dominicans and Jesuits. Hence in understanding and applying this document the law of analogy must be operative. Essential Elements itself embodies this sense of analogy when, in treating of community, it states: The style .of community life itself will relate to the form of apostolate for which the members have responsibility and to the culture and society in which this responsibility is accepted. The form of apostolate may well decide the size and location of a community, its particular needs, its standards of living.~7 The document Essential Elements is, then, a binding document, but it cannot be interpreted without recourse to the source documents and without application of the accepted principles of interpretation and without recogni-tion of the principle of analogy. The Need for Discernment Our pastoral service exists in the context of the "dialogue of salvation" and is guided by the document Essential Elements. This pastoral service, then, involves discernment. Every Christian, of course, has the obligation of trying to discern the action of God and the action of the spirit of evil. Our disi:ernment as heirs of the apostolic office in the Church, however, is beyond that personal, individual level. We bishops are charged by our very office to discern in the Church what is and what is not in keeping with the Gospel as it has been handed on in the Church. This discernment is twofold: to hold to what is good, and to reject what is evil. But this is no easy task. And so the document on the relationship of bishops and religious states: 168 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 Every authentic charism implies a certain element of genuine originality and of special initiative for the spiritual life of the Church. In'its surroundings it may appear trouble-some and may even cause difficulties since it is not always and immediately easy to recognize it as coming from the Spirit.~s Nor is true discernment a unilateral function. What is authentic discern-ment, after all, but an effort to recognize the true action and voice of the Holy Spirit? No real discernment is possible, then, without listening to the voice of the Spirit, who is superior both to bishops and religious, yet who works in both. Discernment includes careful weighing of and listening to the lived experience of religious, and especially the lived experience of the past twenty years during which the great body of religious have made heroic efforts to respond to the call of the council for reform and renewal.19 In keeping with this function of ecclesial discernment is the apostolic duty of correction or admonition. This is referred to only once in all the documents we have received. Yet we must honestly confront the challenge. In his letter to us the Holy Father puts it this way: In those cases, too, where individuals or groups, for whatever reason, have departed from the indispensable norms of religious life or have even, to the scandal of the faithful, adopted ~ositions at variance with the Church's teaching, ! ask you my brother bishops, sustained by hope in the power of Christ's grace and performing an act of authentic pastoral service, to proclaim once again the Church's universal call to conver-sion, spiritual renewal and holiness.20 We are not asked to condemn. We are asked to invite those relatively few among the larger number of faithful religious who may be living in conflict with the Church's norms or teaching, to walk together with us anew the journey of conversion, spiritual renewal and holiness of which we all stand in need. If bishops are called to show the humility of Christ in the exercise of their office, religious too are called to the same humility in recognizing possible mistakes and internal contradictions. We are called to a special pastoral service involving dialogue and ecclesial discernment. One final aspect of our mandate remains to be considered: the numerical decline of religious life. Of this the Holy Father says: In asking the commission to be of assistance to you in your pastoral ministry and responsibility, I know that it will be very sensitive to the marked decline in recent years in the numbers of young people seeking to enter religious life, particularly in the case of institutes of apostolic life. This decline in numbers is a matter of grave concern to me--a concern which I know that you and the religious also share.2~ One obvious reason for this concern is, of course, that the decline in num-bers of religious places in jeopardy the many indispensable apostolic works through which they have shaped and sustained the Church in the United States. But a far more important reason for concern about the decline in num-bers of those entering religious life is the prospect of losing the public witness of their consecrated life among us. It is their unique, public, ecclesial witness of The Service of Bishops to Religious the poverty, obedience and chastity of Christ which is their first and highest contribution to the Church. If we were not concerned about this decline it would be a statement that to us the religious life is but a trivial or marginal factor in the Church's life. We must, then, with utmost seriousness examine the reasons for this decline. But this will take time and professional assistance. Conclusion As we take up this great work of service to religious life, we do so in the awareness of our communion in faith and charity with the Successor of Peter. It is he who has called us to this service, and he accompanies us with his concern and his prayers. We do so also with a deep-felt sense of gratitude to and love for the religious in our dioceses and in the awareness that we are bishops "for them" but disciples "with them." Thus we have every confidence that rich fruit will attend our work since we believe that the Holy Spirit is at work in this enterprise precisely because it is an action of the Church. To us it may at times seem overwhelming. But we rely not on human strength or cleverness. We rely on Christ, who is ever with us and who strengthens our weakness by his power. NOTES ~Letter of Pope John Paul I1 to the Bishops of the United States, April 3, 1983, no. 3 2Christus Dominus, 7. 3Lumen Gentium, 4. 41bid., 7. ~Mutuae Relationes, 9c. qbid., 13c. 7Pope John Paul I1, Address to American Bishops, September 19, 1983. 8paul V1, Ecclesiam Suam, 14. 91bid., 113. tOlbid., 81. ttlbid., 83. ~21bid., 87. ~3Mutuae Relationes, 9d. ~4Lumen Gentium, 7. ~Ecclesiam Suam, 88. ~rEssential Elements, 4. ~qbid., 21. ~S Mutuae Relationes, 12. ~gSee Letter, 4; Essential Elements, 4. ~° Letter of Pope John Paul 3. , ~qbid., 4. A Call to Collegiality in the Service of Religious Pope John Paul H In his remarks to the bishops reproduced in the previous article, Archbishop Quinn termed this statement of Pope John Paul to American bishops to be "that important address." We have judged it useful, then, even though they have been widely published in newspapers, to present the remarks of the pope anew in their entirety for the convenience of our readers. Dear brothers in our Lord Jesus Christ: I have recently spoken to other groups of American bishops about two important aspects of the great mystery of the Church: the episcopate and the priesthood. I would now like to reflect with you on yet another special gift of God to his Church, and this gift is the religious life. So much is religious life a part of the Church, so intimately does it touch her constitution and her holiness, that it must form an integral part of the pastoral solicitude of the pope and the bishops, who have a unique responsibil-ity for the entire life of the Church, and are meant to be signs of her holiness. In speaking about religious life we are speaking about an ecclesial reality which concerns the bishops by reason of their very office. At every moment, but especially during the Holy Year of the Redemption, the Church offers the call to conversion to all her members, particularly to religious. This call to conversion goes out to religious so that they may acquire the full benefits of the redemption and be ever more faithful witnesses of that redemption; so that they may be ever more authentic channels of the redemp-tion for the people of God through their own spiritual vitality which, in the communion of saints, is a supernaturally effective contact with the redemp-tion; and so that through conversion they may live more faithfully the unity of the Church, which is itself the effect of the redemption and a participation in it. For this reason I wrote to all the bishops asking for their special pastoral 170 A Call to Collegiality / 171 service to the religious of the United States in the context of the Holy Year of the Redemption. In my letter I stated, "It is my earnest hope that the Holy Year of the Redemption will truly be for religious life a year of fruitful renewal in Christ's love. If all the faithful have a right--as they do--to the treasures of grace that a call to renewal in love offers, then religious have a special title to that right~" ~ The whole thrust of my initiative was formulated as an invitation, a call to be extended to religious, to open wide the doors of their hearts to the Redeemer. In this regard I wrote, "I ask you to invite all religious throughout your land, in my name and in your own name as bishops, in the name of the Church and in the name of Jesus, to seize this opportunity of the Holy Year to walk in newness of life, in solidarity with all pastors and faithful, along the path necessary for us all--the way of penance and conversion." This pastoral endeavor is of such importance that it could be fulfilled only by a full collegial commitment on the part of all the bishops of the United States. At that time I promised you my fraternal and prayerful support. I also named a commission headed by Archbishop John Quinn whose task it would be to assist you in the exercise of collegiality and to facilitate your pastoral work of "helping the religious of your country whose institutes are engaged in apostolic works to live their ecclesial vocation to the full." I am deeply grateful to the commission for the generosity and zeal with which they are striving to formulate a suitable program that will effectively assist the body of bishops who have the main responsibility in this matter. As guidelines for both the commission and yourselves in this important work, I approved a summary of the salient points of the Church's teaching on religious life prepared by the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes. Since then I have also had the opportunity, as I had hoped, to speak personally with so many bishops about religious life, hearing their viewpoints and learning about their own devoted pastoral service to religious. I am deeply grateful to our Lord Jesus Christ that this initiative has been so zealously undertaken by the commission and by individual bishops, and that it is seen for what it is, an application--an extremely important application--of the principle of collegiality, ~a principle so forcefully enunciated by the Second Vatican Council. In proposing this initiative to your pastoral zeal, my first intention has been to affirm collegial responsibility for the state of religious life, which is intimately linked to the mystery of the Church and to the mystery of the episcopate. Religious need the support and assistance of the bishops in their lives of consecrated witness to the holiness of Christ and to the primacy of God. Your collegial collaboration is not only a means of giving general support to religious and of assisting them in solving particular problems that inevitably touch their lives, it also signifies an authentic functioning of collegiality, an "authentic and vital relationship between the episcopate and religious. The collegial service that you as bishops are asked to render to religious in the precise area of episcopal competence is, above all, to proclaim a call to 172 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 holiness, a call to renewal and a call to penance and conversion. In other words, in the name of the Redeemer to extend the call of the Holy -Year, asking for the greatest possible response of love. In my letter to you I men-tioned that "this call is linked in a particular way with the life and mission of religious . It affects them in a special way; it makes special demands on their lives, reminding them how much they are loved by Christ and his Church." This initiative of pastoral care for religious is one aspect of the great dialogue of salvation, which begins with an awareness of God's love, made visible in the incarnation, and leads to the fullness of salvation effected by this love. The whole dialogue of salvation is directed to the full acceptance, through metanoia, of the person of Jesus Christ. In the case of religious, as in the case of the faithful, the process is the same: In the very moment in which we bishops recognize our own need for conversion, the Lord asks us to go out to others--humble and repentant, yet courageous and without fear--to com-municate with our brothers and sisters. Christ wants to appeal through us, to invite and call his people, especially his religious, to conversion. The aim of all dialogue is conversion of heart. It is not my intention on this occasion to speak about all the essential elements of the Church's teaching on religious life, as described in my letter and in the document of the Sacred Congregation. I am convinced that you will continue to reflect on all of these points, which are taken from authentic sources, so as to be able to explain and promote them all. At this time I would like to emphasize only a few points intimately linked to the theme of conver-sion and holiness of life in the context of religious life and of the pastoral responsibility of the bishops who are "entrusted with the duty of caring for religious charisms, all the more so because the very indivisibility of their pastoral ministry makes them responsible for perfecting the entire flock" (Mutuae Relationes, 9,c). Bishops must proclaim the nature of religious life as teachers of the faith and representatives of the Church that guarantees the charism of religious. This proclamation is both an instruction for the people of God and an encouragement for the religious. In selecting certain aspects of religious life for special reflection, the notion of prayer stands out immediately. The new Code of Canon Law states that the' first and principal duty of all religious is the contemplation of things divine and constant union with God in prayer (see Canon 663, § 1). Th~ question of religious being united with God in prayer precedes the question of what. activity they will perform. The idea of prayer is again underlined as it touches the apostolate. The code insists that the apostolate of all religious consists primarily in the witness of their consecrated life, which they are bound to foster through prayer and penance (see Canon 637). All of this tells us something very profound about religious life. It speaks to us about the value of living for God alone, of witnessing to his kingdom and of. being consecrated to Jesus Christ. Through the vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, religious consecrate themselves to God, personally ratifying and confirming all the commitments of their baptism. But even more important ig the divine action, the fact that God consecrates them to the glory of his Son. And he does this through the mediation of his Church, acting in the power of his Spirit, All of this emphasizes the esteem that we bishops must have for religious and for the immense contribution that they have made to the Church in the United States. And yet this contribution is more a contribution of what they are than of what they have done and are doing. In speaking of religious we must say that their greatest dignity consists in this, that they are persons individually called by God and consecrated by God through the mediation of his Church. The value of their activity is great, but the value of their being religious is greater still. Hence one of the bishop's contributions is to remind religious of their dignity and to proclaim their identity before the People of God. This enables the laity to understand more clearly the mystery of the Church, to which the religious offer so much. The ecclesial dimension is absolutely essential for a proper understanding of religious life. Religious are who they are because the Church mediates their consecration and guarantees their charism to be religious. Although their primary apostolate is to witness, their other apostolates involve a multiplicity of works and activities performed for the Church and coordinated by the bishops (see Canon 680). Since the value of the consecration of religious and the supernatural effi-cacy of their apostolates depend on their being in union with the Church--the entirety of which has been entrusted to the bishops' pastoral care for governing (see Ac 20:28}--it follows that bishops perform a great service to religious by helping them to maintain and deepen their union with the Church, and by assisting them to harmonize all their activities with the life of the Church. The fruitful living of the religious charism presupposes the faithful acceptance of the Church's magisterium, which in fact is an acceptance of the very reality and identity of the episcopal college united with the pope. The college of bishops, as the successor of the apostolic college, continues to enjoy the guidance of the Holy Spirit; the words of Jesus apply still today: "He who hears you hears me, and he who rejects you rejects me, and he who rejects me rejects him who sent me" (Lk I l:16). Venerable and dear brothers, in the dialogue of salvation I would ask you to speak to religious about their ecclesial identity and to explain to the whole People of God how religious are who they are only because the Church is what she is in her sacramental reality. And I would ask you to emphasize the special feminine role of women religious: in the Church, and personifying the Church as the spouse of Christ they are called to live for Christ, faithfully, exclusively, and permanently, in the consciousness of being able to make visible the spousal aspect of the Church's love for Christ. And may everyone, realize that the greatest misunderstanding of the 174 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 charism of religious, indeed the greatest offense to their dignity and their persons, would come from those who might try to situate their life or mission outside its ecclesial context. Religious are betrayed by anyone who would attempt to have them embrace teaching against the magisterium of the Church who conceived them by her love and gave them birth in her liberating truth. The acceptance of the reality of the Church by religious and their vital union-- through her and in her--with Christ isan essential condition for the vitality of their prayer, the effectiveness of their service to the poor, the validity of their social witness, the well-being of their community relationships, the measure of the success of their renewal and the guarantee of the authenticity of their poverty and simplicity of life. And only in total union with the Church does their chastity become the full and acceptable gift which will satisfy the craving of their heartsto give themselves to Christ and to receive from him, and to be fruitful in his love. Dear brothers, through our collegial action, especially in the Holy Year of the Redemption, let us manifest our pastoral love in a special way to the religious of the United States. And let us lead the way in the sacrifice and love demanded by conversion. As bishops we must help ensure for this generation and for those to come that the magnificent contribution made by the religious of the United States to the mission of the Church will continue. But, above all, what is at stake in the collegial service of our pastoral love is to confirm the religious of America in their charism to be religious and to be ever more the expression of Christ's holiness in the mystery of the Church. May they live for Christ, as Mary lived for Christ, in renunciation, sacrifice and co-redemptive love, filling up "what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ for his body, the Church" (Col 1:24). The first and principle duty that springs from their being religious will always be "the contemplation of things divine and constant union with Christian prayer" (Canon 663, § 1). Finally, for the benefit of all, let us recall those memorable words of Paul VI that apply to every age of the Church's life: "Do not forget, moreover, the witness of history: faithfulness to prayer or its abandonment is the test of the vitality or decadence of the religious life" (Evangelica Testificatio, 42). All of this is part of the ministry whereby we as bishops live the mystery of the Church, encouraging the religious, whom we love and for whom we live and are willing to die, to strive to become ever more "the very holiness of God" (2 Co 5:21). The Call to the Renewal of Religious Life John R. Sheets, S.J. Father Sheets teaches theology at Creighton University, and has written often on religious life both in these pages and elsewhere. His last article in Review for Religious appeared in the issue of November/December, 1981. Father Sheets may be addressed at the Jesuit Community of Creighton University~ California at 24th Street; Omaha, NE 69178. On June 22, 1983, the text entitled "Essential Elements in Church Teaching on Religious Life," prepared by the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, was released. Accompanying the text was a letter of Pope John Paul II to the American bishops. In this letter the pope recalled the purpose of the Holy Year of the Redemption as a time devoted to special efforts for the renewal of the whole Church. In this context, he asked that religious, in particular the religious of the United States, review the experience of changes in their religious life over the past twenty years in order to consoli-date the positive developments and to eliminate what was not authentic. As a means to facilitate this process of discernment and renewal, the pope set up a commission of bishops, chaired.by Archbishop John Quinn of San Francisco. Nearly seven months separate the time I am writing from the time of that intervention. The events that have taken place over these months have a significance for the future of religious life in this country (one could in fact say, for the whole Church in the United States) that cannot be overestimated. Before I speak about the significance, it is necessary to review these events so as to get a sense of the process that is at work. The pope's intervention, as well as the text of Essential Elements, directed as they were to religious in the United States, caught them by surprise. It was unexpected, even though some said they sensed it was "in the air." Naturally the action prompted questions as to what lay behind it all. In particular, they. 175 176 / Review for Religious, March-ApriL 1984 asked, why were American religious singled out? The immediate and spon-taneous public reactions were almost universally negative. The negative reactions of some came from their perception that the inter-vention took place without warning and that the text was prepared without proper consultation, ignoring the years of work on religious life that had been done on this side of the ocean. Many found this unilateral way of proceeding inappropriate at a time when the importance of communication is so highly valued. Other reactions stemmed from differences which were more substantial. These touched on understandings that concern the nature of religious life itself, whether and how it differs from lay life, and on the nature of authority within the Church. The contrast of "this-side-of-the-ocean" views was stressed, in contradistinction from "Roman" views, on the nature of law, of authority, of static and dynamic mind-sets. Where these objections were fueled with feminist positions the tone tookon even deeper notes of anger, resentmerit, suspicion and defiance. The press in the United States in general reported the pope's intervention in a critical way, finding it "typical" of his continued practice of "picking on the Church in America." The initial public reaction did not augur well for the plan the pope had in miiad. Ifanything, the situation now seems worse than it was before because it surfa(ed prominently many latent differences (and some not so latent) between American religious and Rome, as well as among religious themselves. The fact that what could have been a catastrophe took a more positive turn in the subsequent weeks and months is due mainly to the tact, wisdom and courage of._A__rchbishop Quinn and the members of his commission, together with their advisors, as well as the openness to dialogue that was demonstrated by rbpre-sentatives of the various religious groups. I would now like to give a brief overview of the work of the commission, then comment on the main thrust of the document Essential Elements, with particular reference to some of the problems facing religious life in the United States today. The Work of the Commission The exact purpose of the pope's intervention, as well as the nature of the commission's task, were not clear at the beginning, either to the members of the commission or to religious leaders. However, as the dialogue began and continued over the subsequent months, a sense of direction emerged. The first step was to meet with the two groups who officially represent religious in the United States.~ It is probably an understatement to say that the tone of both meetings was strained. In August, Archbishop Quinn met with the Leadership Conference of Women Religious. In his talk to them, he spoke of the vision which the Church has of religious life, the sense of the paschal mystery in the history of religious life here over the past twenty years, the appeal that the pope was making to the bishops, and the charge given to the commission. The Call to Renewal [ 177 After his talk the archbishop listened to the reactions of the assembly. They can be summarized under three headings. In the first place, many were highly critical of the document on essentials, finding it static rather than dynamic, monastic rather than apostolic, accenting vows rather than mission, embodying a "dubious ecclesiology," and being out of touch with the uniqueness of the American experience. Others had problems with the intervention itself. What was behind it? Why were Americans singled out? Why was there no consultation? Was it in reality a devious way to get at religious women? How did this affect groups which were international in membership? Finally there were reactions coming out of feminist issues, perceiving the whole affair as another instance of the male Church attempting to control women, a further evidence of paternalism, a continuation of the injustice of asking for service without granting full admission into ministry. In spite of the strained nature of the meeting, it concluded with a loud round of applause as a sign of gratitude and appreciation to Archbishop Quinn. Another member of the bishops' commission, Archbishop Thomas Kelly, O.P., met with the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, which also met in August. The problems voiced there had to do mainly with the manner in which the whole affair took place, its one-sided nature, without previous consulta-tion, seemingly ignoring all of the work that had gone into these various questions, alreadY. There was questioning concerning the purpose and the worthwhileness of what was being asked. In October, Archbishop Kelly met with the assembly of Consortium Per-fectae Caritatis. Their response was overwhelmingly positive. There was a basic hope that steps could be taken to renew religious life and unite the various organizations. At the same time it was feared that the result might be an intensification of division. They felt that the easy categorizing of the differ-ences that divide religious into conservative and liberal overlook the root of division, which comes from radically different notions of religious life, the vows, authority, law, the Church, and in. particular the attitude to the Holy See. These discordant views are found even within one and the same congrega-tion. The lack of unity within carries over then into recruitment of new voca-tions, as well .as into the formation of young religious, compounding the existing divisions, as well as effectively discouraging new vocations. Perhaps the most important step in this seres of stages to implement the mandate given to the commission took place on November 14, when Arch-bishop Quinn gave a report to the bishops at their annual conference. Since his address is reproduced elsewhere in this issue in its entirety, I shall limit myself to its main ideas. Archbishop Quinn brought out that the bishops are not called to something extraordinary. Rather it was a particular concretization of their pastoral responsibility, rooted in their episcopal office as set forth in Vatican II, and as encouraged and fostered in other Vatican documents. He 1711 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 stressed the importance of what the Holy Father was asking from the bishops, not only for religious, but for the whole Church in the United Staies. Archbishop Quinn commented on Essential Elements, stressing both its binding force and also the fact that it does not exemp~t those who would be guided by it from interpretation and application in a prudential way according to particular circumstances. The bishops are called to exercise their pastoral responsibility in a spirit of dialogue. This involves listening. It also involves the apostolic duty of correction and admonition when necessary. The particular contribution of the bishops by virtue of their apostolic office is to prbvide the discernment for what is consonant with the life of the Church, and what is not. He called attention to the fact that the main concern is not numerical decline in the membership of religious communities, nor the fact that many worthwhile apostolic works will be lost. "But a far more important reason for concern about the decline in numbers of those entering religious life is the prospect of losing the public witness of the poverty, obedience and chastity of Christ which is their first and highest contribution to the Church." In order to remove the carrying out of the mandate from the level of exhortation to concrete steps, in the course of that same meeting of bishops a packet of material was given out by Archbishop Kelly to the bishops, with suggestions for ways to set this pastoral responsibility into action. A "time-line" was set. The bishops were asked to make a report to the pontifical commission by May 15, .1984. Attention was called also to the letter of Archbishop Mario Schierano, reminding all that February 2, 1984, was to be a Jubilee Day for Religious. On that day there will be a solemn eucharistic liturgy in St. Peter's Basilica, at which the religious who are present will renew their vows. Reviewing, then, the events of the past seven months, we see that one of the most significant-events in the contemporary Church is beginning to take shape. It could turn out to be the most important event for the Church in the United States in our time. What are the prospects for success? The Pontifical Commission has demonstrated an unusual combination of qualities. It has a genuine sense for what the pope is asking. Though there are pressures to tone down the call for genuine renewal, members of the commission have shown theological depth, an openness that is non-threatening, and have transmitted to their brother bishops the importance of the task which the Holy Father is asking of them. Up to the present most of the action has taken place among the religious who represent the various organizations; so far it has not reached down to touch the rank and file. But even on this level, after the initial edginess there has been a turn to a more positive approach. The Pope Calls In his talk to the Consortium Perfectae Caritatis, Archbishop Kelly told of an experience that took place when some of the American bishops made their The Call to Renewal / 179 ad limina visit. Someone, referring to the papal intervention, asked: "What is this all about?" The pope reflected quietly for a few moments, then said: "During the Holy Year every Christian is called to conversion. The bishops of the United States are to call religious to conversion." He paused, then added: "Let me refine this a bit. You are being called to mutual conversion. When two people are mutually converted they turn to one another. There is great pos-sibility here." There is no hidden agenda here. Pope John Paul is not asking for more studies or workshops. He is not asking simply for renewal, nor is he asking simply that the bishops do their job. He is asking that renewal be brought about through the experience of corporateness that is of the very nature of the Church. "There is great possibility here." The intervention really should not come as a surprise. His pontificate has exhibited two main characteristics: an effort to carry out the directives of Vatican II, and a determination to exhort, in season and out, those who have leadership roles in the Church, bishops, priests, religious, to live up to the fullness of their vocation. The words of St. Paul can easily be applied to the pope: "There is the responsibility that weighs on me every day, my anxious concern for the congregations" (2 Co I 1:28). "Even if I did wound you by the ¯ ,tter I sent, I do not now regret it. ! may have been sorry for it when I saw that the letter had caused you pain, even if only for a time; but now I am happy, not that your feelings were wounded but that the wound led to a change of heart" (2 Co 7:8,9). What the pope is looking for, then, is a change of heart. He describes as the occasion for his letter the call to renewal which has gone out to all the faithful during this Holy Year. "In this extraordinary Holy Year which has just begun, the whole Church is seeking to live more intensely the mystery of redemption. She is seeking to respond more faithfully to the immense love of Jesus Christ the Redeemer of the world" (Letter to the Bishops, April, 1983). This is the call to the faithful. Within that universal call, the pope has issued the special call to American bishops and religious to join in the common effort for renewal. On September 5, 1983, at Castelgandolfo the pope spoke to twentyh-three American bishops who were making their ad limina visit. He called the bishops once again to a consciousness of their role: as individuals, to be a living sign of Jesus Christ, and collegially to lead the Church as servant pastors. He returned to the theme of conversion. ~We'bishops experience the need for conversion-- deep conversion, sustained conversion, renewed conversion . And you. must call your people to conversion, especially in this Holy Year of the Redemption . I pointed out its special relevance for religious in the letter thatoI wrote to all the bishops of the United States at Easter." Reviewing these events over the past seven monihs, there is one inescapa-ble conclusion: it is all of one piece. This inherent unity comes from the insight rooted in faith that through all of God's activity in time there is only one call; it is the call to conversion. While it is a call directed to everyone in the Church, 180 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 those who have leadership roles have special responsibility to open themselves to this call. These are the bishops, the priests, the religious. In answering this call, we are to help one another, through the various gifts God has given to different members. In particular, the pope is asking bishops and religious to collaborate in this mutual call to conversion. Essential Elements in Church Teaching on Religious Life The call to renewal is situated, as we have seen, within the context of the Holy Year. This call is brought into sharper focus through two other docu-ments: the pope's letter of April 3, 1983, and the text called "Essential Elements in Church Teaching on Religious Life" of May 31, 1983. Both of these were made public on June 22. The call to renewal, however, at this particular point in our history takes the special form of discernment. Tremendous changes have taken place in religious life over the past twenty years. The purpose of Essential Elements is to provide the authentic norms for discerning what is genuine in those changes from what is spurious. There can be no renewal without truth. The document sets down underlying characteristics that by their very nature characterize true religious life. Not everything in the document, however, has the same intrinsic weight. Since it is a compilation of earlier papal and conciliar statements, one has to go to the original sources to determine the relative value of each part. There are, therefore, all sorts of shadings in the very term essentials, ranging from what is intrinsically constitutive of religious life to what is highly appropriate. The total range of meaning from intrinsic necessity to what is highly appropriate i~ thematized in one word, consecration. It is the theme that unites Essential Elements with the pope's letter in which he calls religious to renewal in this Holy Year when we recall the mystery of redemption. "By their very vocation, religious are intimately linked to the redemption. In their consecra-tion to Jesus Christ they are a sign of the redemption that he accomplished." Because of its centrality, then I would like to comment on the scriptural and theological implications of consecration. The word always describes a hallowing that takes place when some person or thing is enveloped by the power of the Holy Spirit to give the person or thing a totally new meaning. The primary meaning of consecration is the change in meaning that takes place in the very heart of reality itself when the unredeemed world is tranformed into the New Creation through Christ's redemptive death. The world may look the same before and after. But the very heart of reality has been changed. The paschal mystery through the power of the Spirit has enveloped the whole of reality to change it in its very roots. In the language of Paul, it is a "metamorphosis," a change of structure. "For anyone who is in Christ, there is a new creation; the old creation has gone, and now the new one is here" (2 Co 4:17). In the first sense, then, consecration means the hallowed transformation at The Call to Renewal/ 11tl the heart of reality itself. "Through him God chose to reconcile the whole universe to himself, making peace through the shedding of his blood upon the cross, to reconcile all things whether on earth or in heaven, through him alone" (Col 1:20). Here we are on the level of ontology, of reality itself, as it undergoes a transformation, when it is enveloped by the New Being of the resurrected Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit. This is the most radical sense of consecration. Reality which has been desecrated through original and personal sin has undergone a radical consecration. The transformation at the heart of reality finds its epiphany in the Church in a visible, tangible way, as the communion of those who have been conse-crated. For this reason, St. Paul addresses members of the Church as "saints." But the Church is not only the manifestation of this mystery. It is the embodi-ment in time and space, in human flesh, of the paschal mystery itself, with its power to continue the mission of consecration. It is not only a hallowed community, but hallowing. There is a second level of consecration, presupposing and flowing from the first. The radical change in the very heart of reality which gives us a share in the very consecration of Christ himself demands a change in the way we live our lives. Strictly speaking Christian conduct is not based on moral or ethical laws but on the implications that flow from the transformation that has taken place in the very being of Christians by the fact of their consecration. Paul speaks of the new way of life as based on their new mind. "Think of God's mercy, my brothers, and worship him, I beg you, in a way that is worthy of thinking beings, by offering your living bodies as a holy sacrifice, truly pleasing to God. Do not model yourselves on the behavior of the world around you, but let your behavior change, molded by your new mind" (Rm 12:1,2). Finally the term consecration is used in Scripture to describe a special kind of vocation. It involves a special call by God to an individual to share in his redemptive design, and a free acceptance on the part of the one called, which can be given only in faith. It involves the recasting of ihe designs one might have for his own life in order to shape his life according to the designs of God. Jeremiah describes his own call as an act of consecration: "The word of Yahweh was addressed to me, saying, 'Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you came to birth 1 consecrated you; I have appointed you as a prophet to the nations" (Jr 1:4,5). Paul alludes to this passage when he describes his own call. "Then God, who had specially chosen me while I was still in my mother's womb, called me through his grace and chose to reveal his Son in me, so that I might preach the Good News about him to the pagans" (Ga 1:15,16). Jesus uses the language of consecration to describe his oven role in the Father's redemptive design. He describes himself as the one whom "the Father has consecrated and sent into the world" (Jn 10:36). He prays that his disciples share this consecration through their own role in the redemptive design: "Con-secrate them in the truth. As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into "11~2 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 the world, and for their sake 1 consecrate myself, so that they too may be consecrated in truth" (Jn 17:17-!9). Though the full act of consecration will take place at Pentecost, Christ, while still in the redemptive "moment" of his hour, performs the act of consecration through the gift of the Spirit. "He breathed on them and said: 'Receive the Holy Spirit. For those whose sins you forgive, they are ]'orgiven; for those whose sins you retain, they are retained" (Jn 20:22,23). In this last ~ense of the word, consecration exhibits the following character-istics. There is the overall sense of the mysterious counsel God has, his design for salvation. He deliberately chooses some to share in the effective reaiization of his design. In turn, when they respond with openness to God's will for them, their lives take on a meaning and orientation that relativizes their personal desires in order that they°be completely dedicated to their role in God's redemptive design. In our contemporary language, their lives become sym-bolic, that is, weighted with a meaning and power that comes from the Spirit. The word consecration, then, has three interrelated meanings. It refers to the radical reorientation of reality as it undergoes a tranformation through the redemptive death and resurrection of Christ. The community of those who through baptism and faith have been transformed is the Church. In the second place, this consecration at the root of their being overflows into a new mode of behavior, as "becomes the saints." Thirdly, the term also describes what is meant by devotion in its original meaning, that is, a life completely vowed to carry out God's purpose. Christian tradition, has used the term consecration in this last sense.to speak of a life dedicated to God through the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience. This is the sense that the word has in the document Essential Elements. In order to show the centrality of the theme of consecration in the docu-ment it would be necessary to give a summary of the whole text, which is not possible in this short paper, nor does it fit my purpose. "Consecration is the basis of religious life" (n. 5). Everything else in the document flows from that one sentence. Each way of speaking of consecration in some way points to the New Creation brought into being by Christ's redemptive act. No aspect can be taken independently from the others. The mode of consecration which we call religious life presupposes and lives within the transformed, hallowed commu-nity, which is the Church. If it is taken outside the context of the hallowed community, it becomes desacralized, and takes on a secularistic meaning. The consecrated life of the counsels is not of human origin, like other societies. It is called forth through the Spirit to be the symbol, or the epiphany, of a life lived in a redemptive mode, devoted, or vowed, to this redemptive mode. The redemptive mode envelopes the whole of one's being, but it crystal-lizes under the form of the three vows of poverty, chastity, obedience. In each of these, the paradox of the redemptive mystery is symbolized, a paradox of presence and absence, emptiness and fullness, death and resurrection, limita- The Call to Renewal / 1113 tions that are freeing; a paradox of loss of self and finding of oneself, being set apart and being more deeply united. To develop these remarks would entail writing a treatise on the theology of religious life. It is enough for our purposes here to set them down as aspects of the rich meaning of the consecrated religious life. Problems in Renewal In the first part of this paper I described the circumstances surrounding the pope's intervention, and his call to religious to evaluate the experience of the past twenty years in order to benefit by what is genuine, and to abandon what is not. To give this program of renewal a definite shape he appointed a commission which was to animate the other bishops in the assumption of their pastoral responsibility, to foster dialogue of religious among themselves, and to act as general facilitator to oversee the whole process. The norms that form the authentic basis of religious life flow from the nature of consecration itself. The experience of the past twenty years is to be evaluated then against the intrinsic norms that flow from the very nature of consecration. To the degree that they deepen it, they are valid, or on the other side of the coin, to the degree that they evacuate the intrinsic nature of the consecration, they are invalid. Reading the responses to the pope's call, I find there are mainly two points of view. Some stress the fact that the overall experience has been genuine, with minor deviations here and there. They feel that the negative picture comes largely from the media and from ultraconservative groups who have the ear of the Vatican. They feel that beneath the call to renewal is a negative view on the part of Rome of religious life as experienced in this country. As a consequence, they see the whole of the American experience as put on trial; for this reason, they tend to take a defensive and uncritical, even a triumphalistic posture. Others feel that the experience of the past twenty years is very mixed. In fact they see points of view expressed regarding religious life which are incom-patible .with each other. These clashes are to be found in essential points such as authority, relationship to the Church, the nature of the vows, the purpose of religious life itself. For these the future of religious life in this country is beset with problems. Perhaps each of these groups can learn something from the other. The first cannot ignore the obvious fact of destructive pluralism existing within religious life. The second has to make the effort to see the positive developments that have taken place. And boih groups should be mindful of the fact that thousands of religious have already gone through this difficult process of evaluating changes, and have taken the path leading through the narrow gate as they carry out their mission in a redemptive mode of life. In order to get some kind of a handle on the main problems facing the implementation of this call to renewal, I have divided them up into several categories. 11~4 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 1. The Nature of the Call to Renewal The main problem of course, is that we are being called to a mode of being, not simply to some kind of program. It is the call on which all the prophets floundered, and which brought Christ to his death. If it were a call that could be easily translated into plans for building a society where peace and justice would reign, it would have a ring to it. But it is a call to "be still and know that I am God." There is the problem of the various audiences to whom the call is addressed. Some will remain indifferent to it, others antagonistic, while still others will offer varying degrees of cooperation. There are the practical problems also to be faced in the actual implementa-tion of the process on the part of the bishops. In his address to the American bishops at their recent meeting in Washington, Archbishop Quinn called upon them to give quality time to this pastoral need. How can they find this ''quality time" when they are already overburdened? How can religious leaders also find the quality time that they will have to devote to the process? 2. The Faith Perspective The realities described as the New Creation, the New Being, Redemption, consecration, the Church herself as consecrated and consecrating commu-nity- these are realities that can only be perceived by faith. Thus the values involved in this call to renewal also belong only to the realm of faith. Imperceptibly in the life of all of us, personally and collectively, norms and values that are based on the social sciences come in to compete with, and even conterfeit those that can be perceived only in faith. The mystery that is the Church is then reduced to social and political categories prevalent at this point in history. The notions of authority and obedience lose the meaning which Paul encompassed in his short phrase, "to obey in the Lord," and take on the pattern of mere social dynamics. The talking at cross-purposes that takes place so often in this area of renewal comes from the fact that basic faith-assumptions are not shared. 3. The lack of Integration of Spiritual Hfe and Mission Some have brought up the objection that the document on essentials is "monastic," and thus not really applicable to apostolic religious. That is sim-plistic. The document, in fact, states that it is addressed specifically to apostolic religious. It stresses that unless mission is rooted in and energized by union with God, it remains sterile and lifeless as far as its ultimate value for the kingdom of God. The interrelatedness of consecration on the three levels we spoke of above is essential: a life that is transformed; its consequence in a transformation in behavior; and the special call to live the consecrated life in a redemptive mode. St. Ignatius, to whom many look as one of the founders of apostolic religious life, was convinced that there was only one source of The Call to Renewal/ 185 apostolic energy: union with God. "The means which unite the human instrument with God and so dispose J.t that it may be wielded dexterously 0y his divine hand are more effective than those which equip it in relation to men" (Constitutions, 813). In recent years mission seems to have been self-consciously directed mainly to concerns of peace and j~ustice. Yet, without using those terms, these have been among the goals of all apostolic work from the beginning of Christianity. In our own American history religious have accomplished a moral miracle in the area of justice. In the course of a hundred years they have been the principle "agents of change" who enabled millions of Catholic immigrants, second-class citizens, to take their place within the mainstream of American life. There is nothing that parallels this marvel in the whole of Catholic history. One cannot help but be struck by the emphasis given in the mission statements of so many revised constitutions in the setting of priorities for the pursuit of prace and justice. When such a pursuit is rooted in faith and animated by charity, it ought to have the highest of priorities. At the same time, do we not actually find here a subtle source of an actual separation of "~mission" from the "spiritual life"? This can take place in two ways, both of which are devices of the infamous Screwtape portrayed by C. S. Lewis. In Ch. 6 of The Screwtape Letters, he points out that virtues grow through being in touch with concrete, particular realities. The effort of the devil, then, is to move the target soul from concreteness to abstractions, to push in the direction of "states of mind," generalities, imaginative constructs which have nothing to do with reality, which are only simulations of virtue and not the real thing. In Ch. 7, Screwtape advises his apprentice devil to lead a person to reli-gious idealism, and then, gradually, lead him to subordinate his religion to "the cause." Then Christianity simply becomes a means to accomplish "the cause." Once the devil can make a movement become the end and faith a means, then he has won. "Provided that meetings, pamphlets, policies, movements, causes, and crusades matter more to him than prayers and sacraments and charity, he is ours." The more noble the cause, the more subtle the counterfeit. It is possible that the spiritual life itself will be dried up, even as there is increased insistence on the mission of peace and justice---especially where these have become abstractions, or where they have become an end and faith a means. 4. The Feminist Movement At our present stage of history in the Western world, we are caught in the strong winds of the feminist movement. It is so complex, has so many ramifi-cations, is so fraught with emotion, so well organized, has such momentum, is so comprehensive in scope that it defies analysis and evaluation. One thing is certain. Its potential for good is matched by its potential to become yet another disastrous polarizing movement in the history of the Church. The movement itself has undergone a transformation over the past two decades) In its initial stages it concerned itself with violation of basic human 1116/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 rights. It worked to overcome the economic, social, and cultural injustices suffered by women. In very short order, it moved from those concerns to other demands that were far more radical, such as "control over one's bo~ly," the o~;'erthrow of sex roles in child nurturing, freedom from all coercion, whether biological or physical. Gradually the movement took on the character of an all-embracing philosophy, while still claiming to be a social and political movement. As a philosophy, it pronounces on every aspect of reality: the meaning of God, what it means to be human, the nature of language, the meaning of sexuality. Beginning as a movement aimed at the rectification of economic and social injustices, it assumed in the course of a few years the form of an ideology. While the feminist movement has many repercussions within the Church, most visibly, perhaps, in the matter of language that is perceived as sexist, the most neuralgic area is surely the one concerned with ministry. It is not possible to untangle this problem here. But it is in this area in particular that the philosophical assumptions of the feminist movement come to the fore. Under-lying the agitation for women's ordination, for example, is the assumption that all social f~nctions are interchangeable, coming from a human nature that is, for the most part, undifferentiated according to male or female gender. Once that philosophical assumption is granted, then there is no intrinsic reason why any social role or function should be predicated on differences of gender. The fact that priesthood in the Catholic Church may be the one function that challenges this basic assumption makes the situation to be all the more polariz-ing. The problem, in the eyes of most of the people involved, is seen to be one of justice. In reality, the problem lies in basic philosophical assumptions. Connected with the philosophical assumptions is the sense that difference in function can be changed by the pressure of political, social or economic measures. Yet the fact that priesthood is a sacrament, and as such does not come from human invention but from Christ, challenges the basic assumption that ministry is merely function attached to human nature as such. In fact, the question about ordination is a theological question about the nature of the sacramental sign involved in orders. Specifically, the theological question is whether the sign by its nature is exclusively masculine or not. Like all theologi-cal questions, it has to be resolved through theological method. It is not answered by administrative fiat, nor by increased agitation. We are faced, then, with irreconcilable assumptions which go beyond the possibility of the simple rectification of social injustices. If all social functions are simply functional, and as such interchangeable, then there is no way to resist the image of the power-hungry, threatened, masculine clerics holding on, like beleaguered defenders of the castle, to their traditional status. If, on the other hand, the question hasto do with a sacramental sign, not the product of human creation, then the question is theological, and has to be approached with the method proper to any theological question, and there is no way that the pope or anyone else, can short-circuit this process. The Call to Renewal I have taken the time to comment on the feminist issues because they condition what is heard by so many when they hear this call to renewal. The conditioning is such that, for them, the call to renewal is only an aggravation of already open wounds. Is there any way out of this stormy impasse? Not within the foreseeable future. Chesterton compared certain movements to a fast-moving train~ The faster the train is going, the harder it is to jump off: "The very fact of some social or political or artistic movement going quicker and quicker means that fewer people have the courage to move against it. And at last nobody will make a leap for real intellectual liberty." This is true of the radical feminist movement. It accelerates so rapidly because it is fueled with what the philos-opher Nietzsche has called ressentiraent. This is group-emotion that is the fusion of anger, hurt, envy, resentment, the desire for vengeance. It is fed by the group-memory of a long history of injustice. At the same time, Nietzsche described the inevitable results of ressentiment. It leads to division, hatred, polarization. It desires, not equality, but the power to crush its enemies. Only genuine conversion on the personal and collective level can take the poison out of a movement, can purify it and raise it to become a movement for justice animated by the Holy Spirit. 5. "The Essential" and the "Highly Appropriate" As has been all too evident in media reports following the publication of Essential Elements, the question of religious garb remains one of the most sensitive issues. The term essentials is not to be taken univocally, as if every-thing in the document is equally constitutive of religious life. The range of the term is wide. It goes from the intrinsically constitutive, which belongs to the nature of consecration, to corollaries, which flow more or less from these constitutive principles. Even among the corollaries there are levels--from what is closely related to the intrinsic principles and inseparable from them, to those that are. highly appropriate, but without the same intrinsic inseparability. The matter of religious garb falls under the category of the highly appropriate. There are two extreme positions in this .question. One dismisses the need for an exterior sign such as the religious habit as irrelevant, or even as counter-productive. The other absolutizes religious garb to the point where its necessity is identified as intrinsic to, and inseparable from, religious life itself. Both positions are faulty. When we describe wearing an external sign of consecra-tion as belonging to those aspects of religious life that are highly appropriate, this is not to be looked on as a compromise position. The term is used to point out that there is an inescapable logic in the progression from one level of consecration to another as it seeks its symbolic fullness. The fundamental consecration that lies in the transformation of one's being manifests itself through deeds which are holy. The consecration that describes a special vocation to be the instrument of God's redemptive design 11~1~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 shows itself in the concentration and centering of one's whole life around that role. The prophets, as well as Christ himself, performed symbolic actions to manifest in striking ways the total symbolism of their lives, brought about by their consecration. Those who live consecrated lives may not be called upon to perform such isolated symbolic acts. However, religious garb becomes a sign that all their actions are clothed with a symbolic value. What to the public eye is a secular activity takes on the aspect of a sacred act when it is seen contextualized by a religious sign such as a habit. While this is so, it would be a mistake to put this public sign on the same level as the intrinsic principle.s of religious life. There can be compelling reasons why the inner logic of the sign-value of consecration stops short of the full symbolism of the habit. These reasons can be justified, for example, from particular circumstances of the apostolate, or from personal reasons that have sufficient gravity. However, even those who for legitimate reasons do not wear the religious garb would surely grant that there is a consistency, at least in the abstract, in desiring that consecration manifest its symbolic nature as fully as possible) This issue continues to divide religious, both those belonging to different congregations and those within the same congregation. In responding to the pope's call to renewal, there should be a reassessment of the implications of symbolic fullness, and, at the same time, a willingness to recognize circumstan-ces that can justify exceptions without making an individual to be any less a religious. Toward the Future What does the future hold for religious life in this country? There are some things which are predictable, and others remain in the realm of the unpredictable. Among the predictable elements is a continued decline in numbers, especially in congregations of religious women. This comes from two factors: the present small number of novices entering, and the steady rise of the median age. This decline will carry with it many side effects. Ministry will tend to be less and less corporate, and, at the same time, take on more and more diversity. Community life will also be affected, taking its concrete circumstances from the diversity of ministries. Some religious congregations will surely disappear entirely, not because they have been unfaithful to their call, but because in God's providence they have served their purpose. While this prospect naturally evokes fear and sad-ness, there is also the ground for that joy which comes from the awareness of having been faithful to one's call. At the same time that these predictable developments take place, we also face the unpredictable. With the pope's intervention, the setting up of the The Call to Renewal pontifical commission, and the implementation of renewal through the pas-toral assistance of the bishops, a new process has been set in motion which is unprecedented in the history of religious life. In his own pastoral concern as Shepherd of the Universal Church, the Holy Father has called upon bishops and religious to minister to one another after the manner of the special gifts given to each. The goal is mutual conversion, which will overflow in its effects into the whole Church. I quoted the words of the Holy Father when he spoke to some of our American bishops. He said, "There is great possibility here." But looking at the hard realities, can we say there is any reasonable hope that these rich possibili-ties will be realized to any significant degree? The answer to that question depends on many contingencies. In the first place it depends on whether the bishops and the leaders of religious congregations are convinced of the critical nature of the present moment in religious life in this country, and of the high priority to be given to assisting in its renewal. Without that conviction, compliance will be either token or one of complete indifference. The significance of the present moment must also be transmitted to the individual members of the various congrega-tions by those who have leadership roles. Then ways have to be found to bring together the two aspects of renewal: personal conversion, and discernment between authentic and inauthentic change in religious life. It is unlikely that this "great possibility" will be accomplished through the multiplication of more meetings. Most religious, as well as bishops, could not bear the thought of another round of meetings in which they would repeat what they have h~ard a dozen times already. There is a need for a new format, one that would provide the setting to reach a genuine spiritual freedom in the Lord. Perhaps the bishops could make extended retreats with religious superiors so that together, in an atmosphere of faith and prayer, they could come to a better understanding of one another, as well as a sense of what the Lord is asking. Conclusion At this point in our history it is also important to recall the debt we owe to those religious who have served the Lord and the Catholics in this country so well, and who now, like Anna and Simeon, enter into the sunset of their lives. They were the educators, nurses, catechists, administrators who, more than any other single factor, brought the Church into the twentieth century, and allowed Catholics to take their place in the ranks of every profession. In those days sisters fostered vocations to the priesthood and brotherhood, and priests directed young women to enter into religious life. That partnership has been shaken, at times, even lost, and at this juncture almost always exists in tension. Could not our corporate response to the pope's call heal those relationships, and call us once again to mutual trust and collaboration? If the pope's intention could be realized even to some partial degree, then 190 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 could the shepherd's words in Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale be fittingly applied: "Now bless thyself; thou rneetest with things dying. I with things new-born." NOTES mThere are many associations of religious men and women in the United States. They are listed in the National Catholic Directory and in the Catholic Almanac. The two which officially represent religious are the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), approved in 1962, and the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM), established in 1960. Other organizations with significant membership are the Consortium Perfectae Caritatis, dating from 1971, and The Institute on Religious Life, founded in 1974. 2See "The Place of Women as a Problem in Theological Anthropology," Karl Lehmann, Communio: International Catholic Review, Fall, 1983, pp. 219-239. 3Some additional observations are in place. In those congregations which have definitely opted as communities to keep the religious habit, exceptions would be less common and would be made in consultation with superiors. Also, considering the situation of so many religious today in the United States who do not wear the religious garb, it would seem that conditions are such that a return to the habit in the foreseeable future is practically impossible. Christos Anest~ The lily's silent blare In satin quiet glare And noiseless emerald flare Heralds the peaceful flow Of light becoming glow In the hearts of all who know: The final drop of madness Turns melody from sadness To triumphant gladness Through the mortal progress Of transforming, transformed flesh For the dew-lit, morning fresh, Filling chests with heaviness Of gaiety, joy, and case, Erupting in release-- Sighing peace. Dale P. Wunderlich St. Cletus Rectory 2705 Zumbehl Rd. St. Charles, MO 63301 Apocalyptic Sources of Religious Life A. Paul Dominic, S.J. Father Dominic has been focusing his research on aspects of religious life. His last article in these pages appeared in the issue of July/August, 1981. He may beaddressed at Satyodayam; No. 12-5-33; Secunderabad 500 017; India. Apocalyptic? I remember once heating an aged brother, with a mind of his own, expressing himself against the use of high-flown words in religious litera-ture. He mentioned as an example the word eschatological used in connection with religious life. He went on to say with approval and delight that Ordinal Hume said somewhere in his book Search for God that he knew nothing of what eschatological meant. One wonders in what context the cardinal made the remark! Anyhow, one of the ideas regarding religious life brought to the fore by Vatican II is undoubtedly its eschatological dimension. It would be unwise to fight shy of new terminology that may appear even outlandish, especially when the newvocabulary conceives and gives birth to new ideas. The new, possibly offending, word that is heresought to b¢ associated with religious life is akin to eschatological. The eschatological is the domain of the apocalyptic. The apocalyptic concerns the literary form of the eschatological message and serves as its medium. The apocalyptic therefore comes to mean: the revelation of the hidden designs of God destined to be realized in the ultimate future in prelude to the establishment of his eternal reign. There are many bizarre elements in the apocalyptic that are esoteric; but its spiritual intent is its essence, and as such is a matter of common interest. It is identified with the present urgent hope tending to the final triumph of God. A serious and earnest believer should not be oblivious of the fact that the final biblical revelation is an apocalyptic,~ namely the Apocalypse of John, that keeps urging the faithful to hold out with the sure hope of victory because even now 191 199 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 they can hear the echo of the song of victory in heaven: "Alleluia! The reign of the Lord our God almighty has begun" (Rv 19:6). From the Eschatologieal to the Apocalyptic Before developing the apocalyptic vision of religious life, it may be helpful for purposes of clarification to set down the allied idea of the eschatological nature of religious life. Vatican II gave some clear teaching on this matter. According to Lumen Gentium: ¯. the religious state by giving its members greater freedom from earthly cares more adequately manifests to all believers the presence of heavenly goods already possessed here below3 Gaudium et Spes added another eschatological note regarding religious life, viewing it as giving "clear witness to the desire for a heavenly home and to keep that desire green among the human family."3 Post-Vatican II literature on religious life has given expression to the same doctrine in some form or other with varying emphases. For instance we read in R. Voillaume, a prolific author on religious life: ¯. the religious has to bear witness among men to the reality of the kingdom of God; for men, being busy with the things of this world, need to have the invisible realities of the kingdom made visible and tangible for them by their being embodied in other human lives . 4 The religious life is a reflection of the kingdom of GOd, not only in its eschatological sense of something yet to come, but also in the other sense of something already invisibly present among men.~ However much one may appreciate the validity of the insight into the eschatological character of religious life, there are certain misgivings expressed in connection with it that are not easily brushed aside. It deals with a future which is certain, and yet is so distant that it tends to slip and fade away from the mental horizon. The answer to this objection is not simply that there is an eschatological trait in man's nature as such. True enough, as Viktor E. Franld says: It is a peculiarity of man that he can only live by looking to the future--sub specie aeternitatis. And this is his salvation in the most difficult moments of his existence, although he sometimes has to force his mind to the task.6 But it is not pointless to ask what will assist him and even force him to his eschatological task in the ordinary course of his life. The answer to the objec-tion is neither that the distant future has its preliminary realization appearing as an earnest in the present.7 For the truly eschatological tendency consists in a tension to the future, a tension experienced in the present and towards the future. Speaking of heavenly goods already possessed here below reveals no such dynamism toward the future but rather denotes a static and erroneous conception of existence. Further, the eschatological aspect of religious life is often remarked in relation to the Church in such a way that religious life is Apocalyptic Sources of Religious Life / 193 understood as only a sign of the eschatological dimension of the Church, as though the eschatological significance does not affect the core of religious life itself. Surely religious life cannot project the eschatological dimension of the Church without itself experiencing the eschatological drive; but to this a~pect little or no attention is paid. Last but not least, the eschatological consideration of religious life is narrowly limited to the discussion on celibacy, though each evangelical counsel has an eschatologieal dynamism. All this, doubtless, accounts for the apathy in terms of which the eschatological view is ignored as innocuous, or even an inoffensive notion, as J. B. Metz says,8 without any practical validity. Thus the eschatology of religious life has come in many minds to denote something vague, distant, static and theoretical. According to Karl Rahner, religious life has an eschatological character: not simply because life in accordance with the counsels is an anticipation of the existence that awaits us in heaven . Still, the counsels can and should be regarded as witnesses to the last things, inasmuch as they~objeetify and manifest the faith that trust-ingly aspires after the things to come, which will crown the grace received in this world.9 Even this formulation of the eschatological aspect of religious life is not such as to dispel the disaffection felt towards the eschatological outlook; indeed, it:cannot be said to be completely free from the limitations pointed out earlier in the .prevalent understanding of the eschatologieal. This observation, if valid, is -suggestive of the very inadequacy so often met in expression of the idea of the eschatologieal. If the eschatological idea is not to remain merely a legitimate, though ineffective idea, but also a dynamic, working principle, it must be brought to life by what may be called "apocalyptic inspiration." To put it somewhat differently, the eschatological idea is an ideal goal which can be realized only by the experience of an "apocalyptic goal"--to use the expres-sion of Metz.~° The sense of future hope that is eschatology can be kept alive only by the corresponding sense of present, uncompromising urgency that is apocalypse. The apocalyptic urgency that we would like to discern in religious life is something like the experience of Alan Paton, a white attorney-at-law, in his lifelong work for the South African natives that led to his martyrdom. His basic experience was not one of moral striving but of inner impulse, not .one of indifferent outlook but of interior constraint, as he noted in his testament: I shall no longer ask myself if this or that is expedient, but Only if it is right. I shall do this, not because I am noble or unselfish, but because life slips away, and because I need for the rest of my journey a star that will not play false to me, a compass that will not lie. I shall do this not because I am a negrophile and a hater of my own, but because I cannot find it in me to do anything else. I am lost when I balance this agair~st that; I am, lost when I ask if this is safe . Therefore I shall try to do what is right, and to speak what is true. I do this not because I am courageous and honest, but because it is the only way to end the conflict of my deepest soul. I do it because I am no longer able to aspire to the highest with one part of myself, and to deny it with another. I do not wish to live like that, I would rather die than live like that.~ 19ll/"Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 The invaluable experience of Paton regarding his life was not so much a determination made with deliberation, as an o existential uncontrollable urgency, arising in the depths of his being, and directed to the future. Some similar passion-ought to surge in the heart of religious, creating in them a dynamism to rise and break into the eschatological atmosphere., The Apocalypti~ in Religious Life What exactly is the new dimension in religious life that has been termed here apocalyptic? It is something that approximates the spiritual experience :of Jesus which he was keen on sharing with his co-religionists who were so eager for the final intervention of God. With the early and rather sudden enlighten-ment in the temple that he had to be busy with his Father's affairs (see Lk 2:41-50), he came to discern more and more the sure movement of his Father in the midst of his people, till he found himself proclaiming the Lord's Year of Favor (see Lk 4:16-19). He was persuaded by the'power of the Spirit in him that the providential era of salvation had begun to unfold; and so he heralded the good news that the kingdom of God was imminent and indeed breaking in (see Mk 1:15)~ By this he meant to declare that, with the arrival of the "zero hour," God was now 'addressing men more immediately and confronting them more urgently than ever before, thus precipitating an unprecedented oppor-tunity of salvation, He could therefore tell unsuspecting individuals: "If yoi~ only.knew what God is offering" (Jn 4:10). When he made known his message of the kingdom, Jesus was actually interpreting, in prophetic fashion, the prevalent situation in terms of his ~,ision of God. However there was a difference between his messianic message and the ¯ prophetic oracles of old. The prophets had held out hope of the ultimate future that would come one day; but Jesus announced that the eschaton of the prophecies--the future without a future--had begun to emerge as a present reality, had just become a nascent phenomenon. He was delighted when he found some who welcomed this new revelation of God (see Lk 10:21):" On [he,contrary he was amazed to see people who would not recognize the dominion of God making inroads upon their life, even though authenticated' by his miracles and attested by the Spirit of God (see Mt 12:24-32). He had no doubt whatever that God's final redemptive activity was impinging: on the world for all to see; and so to those who failed to see, he said sharply: "Hypocrites[ You know how to interpret the face of the earth and the sky. How is it you do not know how to interpret these times?" (Lk 12:56). He was keen however to ward off the danger of mistaking the kingdom as merely exte'rnal and bbservable and portentous. "For, you must know," he said, "the kingdom of God is among you" (Lk 17:21). The import of this saying, with the mooted expressipn "among you" (entos hymon) is perhaps best understood as gracious infiltration thus: God is acting as King in and through the ministry of Jesus and his disciples and it is up to the contemporaries of Jesus to recognize this and to respond to it.~2 Apocalyptic Sources of Religious Life / 195 People therefore had to be sensible (phronimos) enough to live with.,the times, the pecular times that bore the mark of eschatology in the process of realization. This was the new summons Jesus issued in his crisis-parables (see Mt 25:1-13; .Mk 13:33-37; Lk 16:1-8), Whether or not his. fisteners paid heed to hisclarion call,~the appearance of the kingdom could not be delayed, much less thwarted (see Lk 10:10-11). For, his own incontrovertible experience was that the fullness .of time had arrived, seized with the existential eruption of the "violence" of the kingdom, i.e,, of the irresistible power with which the king, dom was beginning to establish itself powerfully in spite of all obstacles(see Mt 11:12), making its headway as certainly and impalpably as harvest would come in due season after the sowing (see Mk 4:26-29). ~ ~ What is the significance of all this for us in the present day? The new age Of the kingdom so enthusiastically announced by Jesus has not reached its cfilmi-nation,, but is ever racing to its finale with greater and greater momentum. Therefore our times, too, must be caught up in the eschatological movement. So St. Paul could say to his age: ' You know ~the time" has come: you must wake up now: our salvation is even nearer than it was when we were converted (Rm 13:11). There is assuranc~ then that the majestic kingdom of God invades our days too with its cumulative momentum of the past. It ceaselessly forges ahead towards the absolute future. Here is sensed the apocalyptic reverberation of the eschatological thrust that has been set in motion irrevocably. It is in such milieu that religious life experiences its quickening. The Apocalyptic Eruption of Religious Life The familiar perspective of religious life in view of the kingdom, as this is usually understood, only scratches the surface of the reality, and is not worthy of the sovereign nature of the kingdom. Is it not truer existentially to regard religious life as the specific outcome of the kingdom working its way in and beyond the world? If the kingdom is indeed' like what happens in flour because of the yeast mixed in it (see Mt 13:33), a religious fermentqsbound to show; and religious life is a remarkable expression of thig, Or in terms of the parable of thesower, if the kingdom is like the marvelous growth of seed destined to provide a bumper harvest despite all the usual hazards (see Mt 13:4-9), then. surely there is at work some divine power achieving its purpose without fail. What is.religi0us life but a phenomenon of~the k!ngdom exercising its sway over men unmistakably and forcefully? Surely it is.the dynamic reality of the . onrush of the~kingdom that causes religious life to spring up with an awareness of its own and to buoy up with a new impulse, The obvious fact that religious life grew in the climate of the New Testa-ment is not particularly striking until we come to think of it. However it provides a clue to an important aspect of religious life. Religious life did not, and in fact could not, exist in the period of the old covenant ~hen the kingdom had, not begun to take shape. When, in the fullness of time, the kingdom of 196 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 God made itself felt by its hidden transforming power, it gave rise to a new style of life, even to a fullness of life (See Jn 10:10). Will it be forcing the point to detect traces of this richness in religious life? For instance, if there are some people at least who embrace and honor poverty, it is because they have come to believe that, with the coming of the kingdom, the rich are sent away empty, while the hungry are filled with good things (see Lk 1:53). Poverty is no longer emptiness but fullness because it bestoxbs the title for the possession of the kingdom (se~ Lk 6:20). On the contrary, riches are hollow: "For a man's life is not made secure by what he owns, even when he has more than he needs" (Lk 12:15). In the matter of celibacy, its aspect of fullness appears in the virtual disappearance of the urge to the raising of a progeny to continue life after the death of the progenitor, and this in virtue of the marvelous hope of claiming the kingdom unassailed by the specter of the second death (see Rv 20:6). The earlier absolute necessity of procreation binding on Jews in view of the Messiah cannot remain unchanged after his birth. In fact one has to reckon with the possibility of the opposite necessity, that of celibacy, in view of the kingdom brought about by him who remained celibate. Surely no one can talk in this fashion without the earlier experience of being seized by the spell of the. kingdom.~3., The experience of the power of the kingdom includes also the exaltation of the lowly (see Lk 1:52; 14:1 l); and this proper, though unusual, sense of dignity (see Lk 22:25-27) is the real inspiration of a true life of obedience. Those who give credence to this understanding of religious life will heed the words of St. Paul: We beg you once again not to neglect the grace of God that you have received. For he says: At the favorable time, I have listened to you; on, the day of salvation I came to your help. Well, now is the favorable time; this is the day of salvation (2 Co 6:1-2). Remembering how the rich young man forfeited the favor offered to him by Jesusothe eschatological prophet (see Mk 10:22), religious would not miss the apocalyptic ur.gency of the ancient warning: "If only you would listen to him today" (Ps 95:7). Concretely, "as long as 'today' lasts" (Heb3:13), every~ day dawns for them with "the rising sun" (Lk 1:78) turning their passage of time or chronos into kairos, the providential time for the realization of escha-tological salvation. Religious life thus understood as life pressing towards its fullness and keeping pace with the kingdom could be produced by man no more than could the glory of the kingdom. The inauguration of the kingdom coincides with the age of divine favor that has been awaited for ages. Jesus congratulates his disciples on their privilege of witnessing ~this reality of the kingdom: Happy the eyes that see. what you see, for 1 tell you that many prophets and kings wanted, to see what you see, and never saw it; to hear what you hear, and never heard it (L.k 10:23-24). So religious life, as it participates in the course of the kingdom, should'bear Apocalyptic Sources of Religious Life /i97 the imprint of the gracious favor of the Lord manifested in his kingdom. The logion on celibacy for instance throbs with this spirit (see Mt 19:11-12). Far from being mastery or control of self, celibacy is the ardor created by the kingdom spreading abroad its divine warmth. Therefore only those can take upon themselves the practice of celibacy who know the happy necessity of it from their personal experience of being caught_up bY the love of the ki.ngdom. If the initial fervor of religious life as a rule does not last longer than a nine days' wonder, the reason is that it does not spring from the consciousness of the divine favor stirring in religious life. Religious life is not basically a moral achievement but a religious acknowledgment in wonderment; it is a fervent acceptance of the good things God wants to give his children in his kingdom (see Mt 7:11); it is a knowing and a rejoicing in what God offers everyone in the time of his favor (see Lk 19:44b; Jn 4:10). The fundamental profession of religious life finds appropriate expression in the Johannine conviction: Indeed, from his fullness we have, all of us, received--yes, grace in return for grace, since, though the Law was given through Moses, grace and truth have come through Jesus Christ (Jn 1:16-17). How. far this finds verification in the actual experience of religious is a valid question. Even if the vast majo.rity of religious may be wanting in this pro-found experience--and this may lead to the further question about' the, genuineness ofrgreat numbers surviving in religious life--their initial desire for religious life is not without value and is a measure of the pervasiveness of the kingdom. As-a scriptural instance of it the story of the rich aristocrat may be cited (see Lk 18:18-25). His eager and earnest question regarding the kingdom of God is in itself something admirable; and is best attributed to an inspiration owing to the closeness of the kingdom. This initial appeal of the kingdom develops further in a compelling manner toward its final appeal of being poor enough to have treasure in heaven, as Jesus expounds the grace of the king-dom. Here is grace upon grace which, however, is not received by the rich man, for his earlier ardor dips into gloom, only to invite a straight look from Jesus followed by a cutting remark: "How hard it is for those who:have riches to make their way into the kingdom of God" (Lk 18:24). The reaction of Jesus insinuates that there is a certain necessity to respond to the grace of the kingdom, especially if it comes pressing on us. This necessity receives, explicit affirmation in the clarification given by Jesus regarding the best places in the kingdom: "Anyone who wants to be great among you must be your servant; and anyone who wants to be first among you must be your slave" (Mt 20:26-27). This sense of necessity, parodoxically enough, cannot be wanting in those who freely make themselves eunuchs, driven by the ceaseless urge of the kingdom towards its consummation (see Mt 19:12). How far have religious e.xperienced this necessity as a matter of blessing and responded to the over- 191~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 whelming grace of the kingdom deep down in their hearts? If response to the grace of the kingdom is constitutive of religious life, the experience of conversion must run through religious life right from 'the start, for the call to conversion is part of the kingdom. Religious life, as the king-dom, is not ,for the elite, but for,all those who find favor in the sight of the Lord because of their humbled and contrite spirit. This' spirit of conversion does not pertain only~to the initial entrance into the kingdom, but also to the lasting continuance in it, as is implied in the parable of the farmhand (see Lk 17:7-10) who knows his proper status. No one can remain directly turned to the Lord--that is, what conversion is-~-without the ennobling spirit" of the Miserere (Ps 51). Not~satisfied with mere forgiveness of sin~, one ought to yearn for a transformation of heart wrought by the Lord, and so keep praying: Yet, since y~u love sincerity of heart, teach me the secrets of wisdom. :. God, create a clean heart in me, put into me a new and constant spirit (Ps 51:6,10). What the rich aristocrat missed sadly was precisely this. For all his good performance with regard to the commandments, he lacked ~this one thing: submission to the thrust of the kingdom making its peculiar, salvific dem~inds that are superior to the laws of earlier ages. And so he failed to make his grade in the kingdom--not unlike the Pharisee who prayed to himself (s~e Lk 18:9-14). Religious with all their.practice of specific virtues and vows, cannot be too chary of this pharisaic outlook that dispenses with the need for growing, abiding conversion. Part of the experience of conversion is conviction. Conviction is not neces-sarily conversion, but conversion is conviction: Convergion engenders a new vision of life calling forth a new belief altogether. How Jesus instills this new belief in his special .recruits for the kingdom! Broaching the idea of the obe-dience of service, for instance, he sets it in clear opposition to what obtains outside the realm of the kingdom: You kno~w that among the pagans the rulers lord it over them, and their great men make their authority felt. This is not to happen among you (Mt 20:25-26). He tried to convince his disciples that he himself has come only to serve; at the Last Supper he even indicts them for their sin of failure in this matter by personally washing their feet. In the: same way he opens to them a new world of values regarding mundane matters like possessions. Possessions prove to be snares (see Lk 12:1 ~20); and so they are better left aside (see Lk 12:33) so as to store up treasure in the kingdom of God (see Lk 12:34; 18:22) where alone human hearts can rest secure with no fear or disappointment (see Mt6:19-21). Even perso, ns can bea hindrance to the outreach of the kingdom in us; and so the disciples of thee kingdom need to be disciplined enough to be free from the possible shackles o~ porents, partner or progeny. In advocating, this belief, Jesus utters the promise: Apocalyptic Sources of Religious Life I tell you solemnly, there is no one who has left house, wife, brothers, parents or children for the sake of the kingdom of God who will not be given repayment many ¯ times over in this present time and, in the world to come, eternal life (Lk 18:29-30). Would that religious dared to profess this faith, not only ideally but existentially, in the bewitched world that senses none of the hidden influence of the encircfing kingdom[ The content of the response made by religious life to the advance of the kingdom ought to be a matter of disbelief or at least disturbance for any person in his fight senses who loves himself and his life. Surely each one of the invited' guests in the parable of the great supper who refused to, attend the celebration must be considered sensible enough to know his'own rights and how to enjoy himself. One wants to exercise his independence, another his ownership, and the third his right of marriage; and yet their action comes in for condemnation because, under the influence of hasty excuses, they have gone back on their earlier acceptance of the invitation, setting at nought the very invi~tion they had once cared for (see Lk 14:15-24). The point of the parable is that the kingdom of God is such a pressing reality in the here-and-now that nothing else, not even man's most cherished privileges and rights, can h01d its own so as to exercise a superior claim over man. The urgency of the kingdom will impinge itself at least upon some people with a weight that leaves them in no mood to follow the usual course of life with its legitimate pleasure, typified by eating and drinking, buying and own-ing, marrying and giving in marriage (see Lk 17:26-30). Such is the urgency, for instance, behind the call to leave one's home. The one who is ready to follow Jesus only after seeing to his father's burial, hears the peremptory order: "Leavethe dead to bury their dead; your dutyis to go and spread the news of the kingdom of Gbd" (Lk 9:60). Such is the sense of freedom inspired by the kingdom that some feel the impulse to forego their birthright of founding their own family, and think nothing of the loss (see Mt 19:11-12), The absolute compulsion of the king-dom, overriding all personal concerns, becomes all the more categorical when it proceeds as a personal command issued by Jesus. He is the very personifica-tion of the kingdom, and so he can authoritatively demand sole allegiance from others, expecting them to set aside all bther possible contenders--includ-ing their own precious life (see Lk 14:26). Only people who succumb to the sure, gentle and absolute urgency of the message and of the, Man of the kingdom (see Mt 11:28-30; Jn 7:46) may legitimately and worthily embark upon religious life. Their life now, condi-tioned by the absolute claims of the kingdom, must be counted already part of the kingdom, adding its own vigor to the eschatological tidal wave. ~ The worth of.the kingdom does not admit of any compromis.e with regard to its radical implications. However the kingdom does not encounter one and all in the same way, nor with the same force. For instance, as Jesus points out emphatically, the stunning call of continence cannot be generalized (see Mt 21~0 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 19:11). Again he does not press on everyone to become actually poor. Surely he leaves Zacchaeus serene with his experience of salvation, without demand-ing from him any further distribution of his wealth to the poor (see Lk 19:1-10). So religious life, which commits itself to the kingdom unconditionally, does not engage or enlist everyone who experiences being drawn to the king-dom. Further even those .who find themselves actually within religious life must prove themselves not only called but chosen! The proof surprisingly does not consist in the mere bleak, though perfect, fidelity to the exacting demands of the kingdom, but rather it originates in the kind of joyful impact expe-rienced when the kingdom has impinged upon them. If the kingdom has engaged their attention and delighted their hearts, has subdued their natural powers and invaded them with its own rhythm, then religious life, with all its sacrifices, will not be a forced choice even borne with a gri.'n, but a pleasant surprise like stumbling on the pearl nonpareil. Without the enthusiasm flowing from such an absorbing and radical experience of the kingdom the possibi~lity of the exciting adventure of religious life does not arise, and the actual practice of religious life could well pass for a form of ¯ conscription, one that therefore might better not be. Indeed who could cope with the rigors of religious life without having been surprised by the joy of the kingdom? The grace of religious life for the kingdom is not cheap but costly, to use the expression of Bonhoeffer; and for that very reason fulfilling in the very depths of one's being. No one comes to the kingdom by chance but by decisive choice made in the contact of a propitious moment of grace. In this aspect precisely religious life presents a distinctive feature of its own. The necessity of decision in view of the absolute grace of the kingdom can exercise most mind~ without actually pressing the individuals to enter upon a decision. But religious life does not merely provide a forum for endless cerebral discussion on "decision for the kingdom." It also sets up a structure which makes its aspirants uncomfortable with mere good intentions: It obliges them, within a specific period of time, to make a positive decision worthy of the kingdom. The early traihing, leading to the full embrace of religious life, is a time when the recruits are shaken out of rootless fervor and faced with the challenge of the actual necessity of decision--or at least of the decision to make the decision--for the life of the kingdom! The profession of the vows, especially of perpetual vows, is intended to signify the actual, irrevocable decision made for the kingdom by the religious. 'Religious profession is rightly termed a commitment to the kingdom, which has encountered us with its costly, but overwhelming, grace. It is the way of enjoying the road of blessedness, of having heard the Word and kept it, (see Lk 11:28), unlike the rich young man who went his way sad. ~' Religious commitment is a sign that the children of light are becoming as earnest and astute in the matters of the kingdom as the worldlings have been in ¯ Apocalyptic Sources of Religious Life / 201 theirs (see Lk 16:8). It is a resolve charged with the courage of conviction--so very necessary in the affairs of the kingdom as in any serious, worthy cause. The pronouncement and practice of the vows save the religious from the trickery of self-deception, guarding them from the danger of being surprised in their weariness into looking back, strengthening them instead with the spirit of perseverance for looking ahead to the ever growing fullness of the kingdom. Religious life, caught up by the dynamic thrust of the kingdom, cannot escape from the eschatological struggle in the present stage of "the last times"; but it keeps itself buoyed up with the throbbing hope of final victory, and the consequent establishment of the kingdom. Whatever may be the strength of the decision made in commitment to religious life, the decision needs to be made and renewed time and again in the face of forces of the world, namely the sensual body, the lustful eye and the pride in possessions (see 1 Jn 2:16). This involves a constant struggle which callsfor relentless faith by which alone the righteous man lives and can live (see Heb 10:37-39). Religious life knows no respite--this is part of its apocalyptic experience-- as, being part of the kingdom, it strives to do away with "every sovereignty, authority and power" (1 Co 15:24) and thus redeem the present age of wicked-ness (see Ep 5:16). In the process, however, much suffering has to be borne: there will be mourning, hunger, thirst and even persecution for those who are forging ahead into the kingdom (see Mt 5:5,6,10). While it is true that religious life is under the sway of the kingdom, and accordingly is persuaded of the privilege of poverty (see Jm 2:5), the happiness of the service of obedience (see Lk 22:25-27; .In 13:16-17), and the worthiness of celibacy (see Mt 19:12), yet it cannot escape the onslaught of the kingdom of the world any more than did Jesus (see Mt 4:1-10;16:21-23). In accordance with the pattern of the experience of Jesus (see Lk 12:49-50;24:26), "we all have to experience many hardships," as a beautiful line in Acts has it, "before we enter the kingdom of God"(14:22). There is no other means by which we~may be found worthy of the kingdom of God (see 2 Th 1:4-5). Revelation revolves around this truth. In particular the vision of the saints in heaven (see Rv 7:9-17) lifts us up from the familiar scene of tribulation to hear their cry of victory in the kingdom of God. If they take their place in front of God's throne, it is because they are martyrs, having shed their blood and mingled it with the blood of the Lamb. So martyrdom for the kingdom is an eschatological necessity. Religious life cannot escape this necessity without endangering itself. Religious life is not a substitute for martyrdom, though it grew up only when the early persecutions came to an end. Religious life is in its own right a lifelong martyrdom. Religious life must come to grips with this reality existen-tially and not merely morally. The vows of religion are marks of the eschato-logical martyrdom that religious should gladly undergo in their enthusiasm for the kingdom. What we endure in this life can never be compared to the glory of the kingdom yet to be revealed in its glorious fullness (see Rm 8:18). So it 909 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 should be a matter of rejoicing~for the religious that celibates are singled out in one of the apocalyptic visions of the heavenly throng surrounding the victor-ious king (see Rv 14:1-5). Happy will be those religious who treasure the prophecy of the Apocalypse (see Rv 1:3). However, th~ir~l~appiness cannot be unmixed and will be:far from perfect because the prophecy is yet to be fulfilled. Meanwhile, therefore, they groan in their obedient service as they await the inheritance of the fullness of the kingdom with a longing (see 2 Co 5:2), that is enlivened by their poverty and expressed by their celibacy. When sufferings come their way, as indeed they must, they will remember to stand firm to the end (see Mt 24:13) and even know to boast about their sufferings. ¯ These sufferings bring patience, as we know, and patience brings perseverance, and perseverance brings hope, and this hope is not deceptive, because the love of God has been pi~ured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit which has been given us [as the greatest of all eschatological gifts] (Rm 5:4-5). What is this hope except that for which all have been called and chosen? Imbued with this spirit we religious mean to work all the har~der to justify it; for in this way we will be granted admittance into the eternal kingdom (see 2 P 1:10-11). NOTES ~Describing the eschatologieal perspective specific to the New Testament, an Encyclopedia of T~ eology says: "It is not surprising., that the Christian revelation should be essentially an apocalypse (Mt 16:17; Ga 1:16; Rv). See K. Rahner et al, eds., Sacramentum Mundi (London, 1968), p. 50. 2Vatican II, Lumen Gentium, n. 44. ~Vatiean 11, Gaudium et Spes, n. 38. *R. Voillaume, Concerning Religious Life (London, 1975), p. 20. 5Ibid., p. 29. 6V. E. Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning (New York, 1963), p. 115. 7y. Raguin points to the danger of eschatology being tied up with the future life, but does not seem to advert to the other danger of the eschatology being confined to the present experience. See his Celibacy for Our 7~mes (Hertfordshire, 1978), p. 23. ~ 8See J. B. Metz, Followers of Christ (London/Ramsey, 1978), p. 62. 9K. Rahner, "The Theology of the Religious Life," in G. Huyghe et ai, Religious Orders in the Modern World ~(London/Dublin, 1966), pp~ 68-69. t0See J, B. Metz,' op cit., p. 76. ~A. Paton, Cry~ the Beloved Country (Seribner, 1948) as in J. Loew, As If He Had Seen the Invisible (Notre Dame, 1967), pp. 84-85 (emphasis added).° , ~2N. Perrin, The King~d~m of God in the Teaching of Jesus (London, 1975)~ p.~187. ~JSomething similar has been f

Issue 42.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1983. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty mem.bers 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. REV|EW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus,.St. Louis, MO. © 1983 by REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOrdS. 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 Fort RELIGIOUS: 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 Sept./Oct., 1983 Volume 42 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Bivd'.; 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 Rt:vlt:W EOn Rt.~LIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Letters of Gratitude-- II Robert F. Morneau The issue of September/October, 1982, carried the beginning of an experimental series of "Letters of Gratitude" addressed to various authors who have been important to Bishop Morneau's own spiritual development. Reader response has encouraged a continuance of this series. Bishop Morneau may still be addressed at Ministory to Priests Program; 1016 N. Broadway; De Pere, WI 54115. This series of letters of gratitude continues the purpose of an earlier series, i.e. to express my appreciation to certain authors who have enriched my life and to encourage the readers of these letters to read the primary sources of these authors. These Letters of Gratitude are written to Augustine of Hippo, Ra~'ssa Maritain and Dag Hammarskfi~id. Augustine (354-430) shares his innermost life with us in his famous Confessions. This masterpiece speaks to all ages and articulates movements of the inner life. that are universal No one can read this classic without being changed. Raissa Maritain (1883-1960). the wife of Jacques Maritain, has left us two precious treasures in her Raissa's Journal and We Have Been. Friends Together. The first of these works records the daily experiences of a deeply sensitive and spiritual woman; the second work narrates the story of key people who .influenced her own life as well as her husband's. The third letter of gratitude is addressed to a former secretary general of the United Nations. Dag HammarskjSld (1905-1961) was a distinguished statesman and advocate of international cooperation. In his famous Markings, HammarskjSld, candidly and with consummate skill, shared his journey. The depth of his spiritual life and the range of his concern are moving indeed "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood . "so the poet Robert Frost tells us. We cannot travel many roads personally but we can vicariously. And it is on the road that we share many hours of dialogue and rich experience. The 641 642 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 companionship of Augustine, Ra~'ssa Maritain and Dag HammarskjOM is well worth having, if only for a few minutes or a few hours'.; Augustine Hippo, North Africa Dear Augustine, I write in gratitude for the candid and direct sharing of your journey in the Lord. How many hearts have been touched through your confession of sin, confession of God's goodness, confession of deep struggle will probably never be known. But I write you to say that I am one who has been moved and challenged by your story; your conversion has led to my own. ¯ Where to begin? With the people who were instruments of the Lord, with the historical context of time and place, with the struggle toward freedom that drove you from darkness to light? Perhaps the last point presents a pattern that helps to explain the whole. You share well how you were held in the bonds of slavery on various levels. First of all, the slavery of sensuality! Passionate by nature and living in an environment that would activate the seeds of license, you were held fast by the desires of the body. In this darkness. you struggled for so many years and, even after the grace of conversion, continued to struggle violently with concupiscence. In this weakness you found your strength because, in the frustrating powerlessness of it all, you were forced to turn to the Lord for true liberty. God's mercy helped you not to become discouraged in the fight for purity and light. A second slavery, much more binding than the first because so much closer to the heart .of your person, was the hold that your intelligence had on you. If your finite mind could not reason to something, then that something had no value, indeed no existence. Your reason reigned supreme, thus your inability over many years to read Scripture. Not conforming to your rigid laws of logic, you lacked the simplicity to comprehend spiritual reality which was immaterial. These chains held you fast and, once again, only through the working of grace, teachers and certain philosophies were you able to be set free and to allow faith to give go. vernance to your rationality. Here we see that your strength became your greatest weakness, keeping you from Truth. The Lord in his own timing drew you into the embrace of love, and there you also found truth and purity. The two slaveries that held you captive, sensuality and rationality, also are the forces that sweep through our times, incarcerating our spirits and our lands. These forces have also moved through every age and thus your autobiography is for every season because it touches so deeply our experience. Letters of Gratitude / 64~1 Your modeling is so important because it reveals that order and peace can be had, that slavery excludes true happiness, that victory can be achieved with effort and grace. ¯ Just as you have touched many lives, likewise many people had a powerful hand in shaping your mind and heart. I think of your mother, Monica, loving, praying and pursuing you in great fidelity. God rewarded her and you with that powerful experience at Ostia--sheer grace. I think of Ambrose, bishop of Milan, whose fatherly tare and keen sensitivity helped you to work through your intellectual crisis. I think of the life of St. Anthony whose example of deep asceticism and total commitment caused your heart to burn for action. I think of Adeodatus, your brilliant son, whose death caused your heart such deep. grief. I think of your concubine and her deep love and fidelity toward you, severed from you by the dictates of culture--whatever did happen to her? I think of Alypius, your dear friend, with whom you shared so deeply and who later became bishop of Tagaste, your home town. I think of St. Paul whose writings helped to finalize your conversion. This awesome compahy made their mark; your receptive spirit eagerly took in their gracious gifts. Several incidents in your life are symbolic of deep patterns. The stealing of pears, relatively insignificant in and of itself, reveals the mysterious realm of motivation--to steal not because of the fruits but because of peer pressure. In narrating this event, you manifest a profound grasp of human psychology, a deep grasp of self-knowledge. You teach us here to go beyond our actions and thoughts .and to discern the deeper recesses of our,behavior: moving from the "what" to the "why," which in turn reveals our true values. Then you share that powerful mystical experience, communal in nature, that you and Monica had shortly before her death. Together in conversation you entered deeply into discussing and experiencing the dwelling place of God, already tasting in this life what was to be forever. How you must have treasured that moment throughout the rest of-y.our life, a touchstone experience against which to judge your many future dec~slons. Then you speak of reading Cicero's Hortensius, a work that inflamed your soul in its search for wisdom. Herein we see the importance of a single book in our lives, able to set us in a direction never before pondered. You tell further of Alypius' compulsion in regard to gladiatorial shows; how this otherwise kind and learned man was held captive by a game. In this you were taught a lasting lesson, one that touched the core of your person: freedom is a precious gift that must be carefully tended or it is lost. Given all these circumstances and people, the most compelling reality in your life was the ever present hunger you had for God--more accurately, God's hunger for you. Your sensual and intellectual passions and avarice could not be satiated; always you came away empty and unfulfilled. It was your spirit that ached for meaning and presence, the meaning and presence of a Person. Only God could fill you but the sensuality and rationality had to accept that radical poverty of spirit that makes room for God. The charting of your 644/ Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 journey, with the carefully described anguish and pain that necessarily accompany growth, is a helpful log for all of us, your fellow pilgrims. Your legacy has been prodigious." ~)61~mbs of comprehensive theology, vas~ and subtle philosophical reflection, powerful exegesis on the word of God, stirring exhortations, a model for community living, moral discourses of a challenging nature. But for me your greatest legacy is your humanness. Within the genius of cognitive excellence, we find a human heart that is torn and twisted by the winds of human experience. Your confessions are free from pretense, from the too common masking that infects most of our lives. For this the centuries are in your debt. You tell us that it is possible to reach the heights of holiness within the maze of failure and trial, within the morass of sin and slavery. You brought all of your life, n° part being excluded, to the Lord, and he healed and blessed you. It was your heart and not your head that became the portal for divine encounter. Your desire and passion for love was, at bottom, the key to your life. The only regret that I sensed came from your late loving. As long as history lasts, these words will touch the human heart: Too late have I loved you, O Beauty so ancient and so new, too late have I loved you! Behold, you were within me, while I was outside: it was there that 1 sought you, and, a deformed creature, rushed headlong upon these things of beauty which you have made. You were with me, but I was not with you. They kept me far from you, those fair things which, if they were not in you, would not exist at all. You have called to me, and have cried out, and have shattered my deafness. You have blazed forth with light, and have shone upon me, and you have put my blindness to fligh!! You have sent forth fragrance, and 1 have drawn in my breath, and I pant after you. I have tasted you, and I hunger and thirst after you. You have touched me, and I have burned for your peace. (254-255) Your fond admirer, RFM Death language My heart was made dark by sorrow, and whatever 1 looked upon was dea-th.~ My native place was a torment to me, and my father's house was a strange unhappiness. Whatsoever I had done together with him was, apart from him, turned into a cruel torture. My eyes sought for him on every side, and he was not given to them. 1 hated all things, because they no longer held him. Nor could they now say to me, "here he comes," as they did in his absence from when he lived. To myself I became a riddle, and 1 questioned my soul as to why it was sad and why it afflicted me so grievously, and it could answer me nothing. If I said to it, "Hope in God," it did right not to obey me, for the man, that most dear one whom she had lost, was more real and more good to her than the fantasy in which she was bade to hope. Only weeping was sweet to me, and it succeeded to my friend in my soul's delights. (98) 1 had learned from you that nothing should be held true merely because it is eloquently expressed, nor false because its signs sound From The Confessions of St. Augustine, translated and annotated by J. G. Pilkington, M.S., by permission of Liveright Publishing Corporation. All rights reserved, 1943. Letters of Gratitude / 845 Prelense Fear Anger Disposition Integration Friendship harsh upon the lips. Again, 1 learned that a thing is not true because rudely uttered, nor is it false because its utterance is splendid. I learned that wisdom is like wholesome food and folly like unwholesome food: they can be set forth in language ornate or plain, just as both kinds of food can be served on rich dishes or on peasant ware. (119:120) That man of God (Ambrose) received me in fatherly fashion, and as an exemplary bishop he welcomed my pilgrimage. I began to love him, at first not as a teacher of truth, which 1 utterly despaired of fir~ding in your Church, but as a man who was kindly disposed towards me. (130) But as often happens, just as a man who has had trouble with a poor physician fears to entrust himself even to a good one, so it was with my soul's health. (138) What another man would take as an occasion for anger at me, this sincere young man took as a reason for becoming angry at himself and for loving me more ardently. Long ago you had said and had inserted it into your books, "Rebuke a wise man, and he will love you." (143) From experience, 1 knew it is no strange thing that the bread that pleases a healthy appetite is offensive to one that is not healthy, and that light is hateful to sick eyes, but welcome to the well. (174) It is one thing to behold from a wooded m~untain peak the l~nd of peace, but to find no way to it, and to strive in vain towards it by unpassable ways, ambushed and beset by fugitives and deserters, under their leader, the lion and the dragon. It is a different thing to keep to the way that leads to that land, guarded by the protection of the heavenly commander, where not deserters from the heavenly army lie in wait like bandits. They shun that way, like a torture. In a wondrous way all these things penetrated my very vitals, when I read the words of that least of your apostles, and meditated upon your works, and trembled at them. (180) Let a brother's mind do this, not a stranger's mind . Let it be that brotherly mind which, when it approves me, rejoices over me, and when it disapproves of me, is saddened over me, for the reason that, whether it approves or disapproves, it loves me. To such men will I reveal myself. (23 I) II Ra~'ssa Maritain France Dear Ra~sa, I write in gratitude for the insights and sensitive reflections that are contained in your journal and autobiographical writings. I have read them with excited interest and deep admiration. My only hesitancy in picking up 646 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 your journal was my concern as to whether or not you really wanted it read; your husband Jacques and your friends decided after much thought to publish it. Though questioning the principle behind their decision, I in no way question the advantages that flow from such intimate conversation. A most powerful pattern expressed in your journal revolved around the .experience of suffering. I refer both to its intensity and pervasiveness. Not having had such experiences, 1 doubt that I comprehend its full import or the depth of such pain. What seemed to be central to such a way of life is your ability to accept, in grace, that suffering as part of God's plan and, in some way, to be able to identify with the Lord in the tasting of the pain. Otherwise the result could well have been deep resentment and hostile anger. You have taken a universal human experience and dealt with it in a healthy way. Such modeling is important in an age that tends to flee from all suffering at any cost. I have tasted and now savor your response to this path of pain; your courage throughout the ordeal is inspiring. I reflect, too, on your sister who lived with you and your husband. Unheralded, without great talent, fulfilling the role of servant, she represents an entire core of people in higtory who, through their quiet dedication and humble service, have made it possible for others to be creative and productive. Your sister was fortunate in being appreciated for who she was and what she did, an uncommon fate for many like her. These unsung heroes and heroines whisper of the many flowers that are "born to blush unseen." How did you come to integrate your personal relationships so well? Did it involve a painful struggle? In reading your journal it becomes obvious that God had priority in your life; he was indeed the ground of your being; all of life's meaning came from your deep faith. Yet, from other reflections you have shared, your husband Jacques and other individuals were extremely close to you as you were all friends together. Theoretically this is no problem: love for God and our fellow creatures is certainly not exclusive. Yet on the practical level, given the reality of making choices that necessarily exclude other options, such balance in our lives is not easy to come by. Perhaps you could send me further reflection on this. Two incidents from your life impressed me deeply. One was the time you and Jacques were studying at the university in Paris and in your searching were unable to find sufficient meaning for life. So intense was the search that you both opted for suicide, if you could not find meaning. Such was the seriousness of your endeavor and such was the grace given by God that you discovered Thomistic thought. Cpming out of this rich theologic and philoso-phic loam you were to find a perspective sufficiently sustaining that suicide no longer remained an option. Our own age stands in need of meaning-systems to provide us with a reason to live, a reason to die. The great metaphysical and cosmological questions continue to haunt the human mind and heart, prodding us until some type of resolution is found. Too often suicide becomes a "viable" option. Recently I heard of several people who had picked up some Letters of Gratitude of Jacques' works. He has become an instrument for passing on a wealthy tradition enabling the human spirit to deal with movements towards insight and hope. Your personal contributions to the poetic world have served the same purpose. The second incident that sounded a chord in me was the remark that Bergson made to you: "Always follow your inspiration." What a challenging statement, one not free from danger as he realized when sometime later he commented that he could not say that to just anyone. Your interpretation of the advice was to always act freely so that your true self could emerge. What wisdom when we are in touch with our deepest selves; what danger when, on some superficial levels, our personality seeks expression regardless of the effect on ourselves or others. At bottom, in a faith context, our inspiration is not really ours but the Lord's. Without knowing it, Bergson became an instrument of God calling you to foster and nourish a discerning heart, a core element in the development of the spiritual life. Inspiration is a fact, a part of everyone's experience; how it is interpreted and whether or not it is responded to depends upon the disposition of each person. You responded well to the movements of God's Spirit. Simplicity, as a virtue and way of life, was a constant call for you. What simplicity as well as its sister, purity, mean, boggles my mind. Certainly they are inseparable but they contain such mystery and are so grace-laden that it is hard to describe their essences. To will one thing, to be transparent, to possess unmixed motivation and a sense of detachment--all of these are hints and clues. Only experience allows their meaning to enter the heart. By contrast, complexity disrupts our !onging for the simple as compromise discolors the pure stream of love. Testing the reverse side of the coin draws us painfully into the poverty of our lives. Your writings are expressions of deep honesty. You state what you feel and think, not what others might expect you tO say. In going before God, you bring your real self, warts and all. In dryness of spirit you bring your emptiness and nothingness before the Lord. In the joy of friendship, you recognize its source with gratitude. All these reflections center on one thing: truth. Again the confidence that truth can be comprehended; certitude is possible. With the truth comes freedom from moral, psychological, and spiritual paralysis. Time and again the hunger and thirst for truth, which at bottom is that infinite desire for God, emerges and demands constant bnergy. You, your husband and friends were searchers; your find has been graciously shared with us. Three loves helped to shape your life: theology, philosophy and poetry. Many individuals helped give you insight into these three loves: Thomas Aquinas, Plotinus, Augustine, Pascal, Bergson. My heart rejoices to find the formative influence of poetry in your journey: It brings the soaring and majestic flights of theological insight and philosophical reflections back to the concrete and specific. This happy triumvirate makes for a well-rounded disciple of the Lord. 641~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 You were a part of an exciting movement within the Church. The goal was a quality spiritual life based on strong principle and dedicated service. One senses the importance of community and friends in such an adventure. Herein is a lesson for our times: spiritual growth happens through deep participation with and among a community of believers. The search is painful but the joys are deep. Your contribution has not been forgotten; more, it continues to touch many hearts. Deep peace always, RFM Ego Virtue God Envy God Peace Truth Experience The ego is an obstacle to vision and possession. (28) Yesterday 1 had a good morning. Once again when I recollect myself, 1 again find the same simple demands of God: gentleness, humility, charity, interior simplicity; nothing else is asked of me. And suddenly I saw clearly why these virtues are demanded, because through them the soul becomes habitable for God and for one's neighbor in an intimate and permanent way. They make a pleasant cell of it. Hardness and pride repel, complexity disquiets. But humility and gentleness welcome, and simplicity reassures. These "passive" virtues have an eminently social character. (71) I get nowhere by looking at myself; I merely get discouraged. So I am making the resolution to abandon myself entirely to God, to look only at him, to leave all the care of myself to him, to practice only one thing, confidence; my extreme wretchedness, my natural cowardice leaving me no other way open to go to God and to advance in good. (83) A proud man envies the superiority which surpasses him. A humble one, on the contrary, loves good wherever he finds it, and by this love, in some sense appropriates it to himself. I enter into the presence of God with all my load of misery and troubles. And he takes me just as I am and makes me to be alone with him. (225) Sources of peace: God and trees. (328) But before all else, I had to make sure of the essential thing: the possession of the truth about God, about myself, and about the world. It was, I knew, the necessary foundation for my life; 1 could not, without letting the ground be washed away from under me, give up the pursuit of its discovery. Such was my deep instinct. And by assiduous work must I prepare myself to receive the hard secrets of the spirit. All the rest, 1 thought, would follow, would come in its time--music, the sweetness of the world, the happiness of life. (3 I) 1 began to read Plotinus outside class with great joy. Of this reading one single dazzling memory stands out for me, and throws all the rest into shadow. One summer day in the country, I was reading the Enneads. I was sitting on my bed with the book on my knees; reaching Citations from Ra~'ssa "s Journal are reproduced by permission of the publishers, Magi Books, Inc. Letters of Gratitude / 649 lnspiratibn Honesty Fa~h Suffering one of those numerous passages where Plotinus speaks of the soul and of God, as much in the character of a mystic as in that of a metaphysician--a passage I did not think of marking then and which I have not looked for since--a wave of enthusiasm flooded my heart. The next moment I was on my knees before the book, covering the passage I had just read with passionate kisses, and my heart burning with love. (96-97) One day, trembling all over, I went to Bergson to ask his advice about my studies, and even more, no doubt, about my life. It was the first time 1 had ever done anything of this kind. A few words of what he said to me are forever engraved in my memory. "Always follow your inspiration." Was this not to say, "Be yourself, always act freely'?. Much later, when I reminded him of this advice, which 1 had set about following indeed, Bergson, smiling at his imprudence, said kindly: "That was not advice I could have given to many people . "(97) Bloy appeared to us as the contrary of other men, who hide grave failings in the things of the spirit and so many invisible crimes under a carefully maintained whitewash of the virtues of sociability. Instead of being a whited sepulchre, like the Pharisees of every time, he was a firestained and blackened cathedral. The whiteness was within, in the depth of the tabernacle. (I 19) 1 think now that faith--a weak faith, impossible to formulate consciously--already existed in the most hidden depths of our souls. But we did not know this. It was the Sacrament which revealed it to ¯ us, and it was sanctifying grace which strengthened it in us. (178) This question of suffering in Beatitude, and of suffering in God himself, had already been raised by Bloy in Le Salutpar les Juifs. This conjunction of suffering and Beatitude is allowed neither by theology nor by Aristotle. Beatitude means absolute fullness, and suffering is the cry of that which is wounded. But our God is a crucified God: the Beatitude of which he cannot be deprived did not prevent him from fearing or mourning,~or from sweating blood in the unimaginable Agony, or from passing through the throes of death on the Cross, or from feeling abandoned. "Every imaginable violation of what one is accustomed to call Reason can be accepted from a suffering God," says Bloy in Le Salut. (189) III Dag HammarskfiSM c/o United Nations Building, New York Dear Secretary General, I write in gratitude for the markings of your life which you so carefully ¯ noted in your now famous diary. While busy with the affairs of the/world, while leading the United Nations in its struggle for an elusive pea(e, while 650 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 interacting socially and professionally with thousands of people, you took time to trace the movements of your spirit. Did any of your knowledgeable associates suspect the depth (or even existence) of your spiritual life? Was there anyone sensitive enough to feel the pulsating rhythm of your mind and heart? Perhaps their blindness and your own reticence kept too well hidden your dialogue with God and with life. And, as often happens, only after death is life fully manifest! We have the blessing of your journal which tells the story, a story that both inspires and challenges. So many themes! So many movements! The struggle with self and against self not being the least. Enslavement to pride and vainglory that so strongly contended with the haunting desire for self-surrender. Given your giftedness and international recognition, the self found humility no easy virtue. Yet you were able to name the struggle, you were able to admit your intrinsic weaknesses toward egoism and this already provided impetus to new freedoms. What a powerful instrument your journal must have been in this whole process. By it you kept in touch with the truth and that very truth was the gateway to authentic liberation. And even more deeply, within that whole struggle with self, was your relationship with God and your deep faith. Slavery to self was not broken through mere human discipline and strength. At the core of your religious life was the desire for purity and its most noted effect, transparency. No admixture of foreign elements into one's nature, thought or behavior. God was pure; he was love which is the essence of purity and permits transparency. You sought this God in faith, knowing that constant contact with him would bring about a personal renewal. Nor was all this a rugged individualism: all action is social, all holiness involves the well-being of other:s, all are part of a large symbiotic existence. As a youngster, I recall hearing in the dead of night the haunting whistle of the freight train cutting through the darkness with its small beacon of light. So, too, in reading your markings, I sensed the loneliness that is part of the lot of those chosen to lead. Genius and responsibility remove the engine from the rest of the cars and cause a perception among the masses that fails to take into account the real inner self. That loneliness finds expression in your reflections and these reflections come from the silence of the night. Whatever the pain, silence and loneliness are elements in the atomic formula that spell a rich imeriority. Without these qualities superficiality and mediocrity predominate. Every so often we come across vast visions contained in a nutshell; multiple truths captured by an adage; diverse beauty gently painted in a masterpiece. Your prayer is a rich theological gold mine: Give us A pure heart That we may see Thee, A humble heart That we may hear Thee, A heart of love That we may serve Thee, Letters of Gratitude / 651 A heart of faith That we may live Thee. (214) The emphasis is not on the mind or action but on the heart. Herein lies the wellspring of human life: what happens in the heart determines our fate. Thus we truly see when our hearts are pure; we hear for the first time when our hearts are humble; we serve well under the condition that our heart has made room for love; we live in God's piesence if in our heart there dwells the gift of faith. How simple! How profound! How challenging! And all of this is gift: "give us"! Not a selfish prayer made only for one's own growth, but a collective prayer asking for all peoples these gifts of single-mindedness, rich obedience, deep affectivity and spiritual vision. Only so blessed can peace come to the world; all politics must be grounded in spirituality, if any meaning at all is to be had. Resistance is for many of us a way of life. We resist our limitations, we feel hostile to the unknown, we are non-accepting of those things that do not fit into our plans. So much time and energy are consumed through the negative force of resistance that there is little, if any, left over to live a positive life. We shout a continual no to life and wonder why we are not happy. You related how one day you stopped this pattern in your life and shouted (or whispered) your yes. (205) In that moment of surrender all was different, all was new. However ambiguous and undefined this religious experience was--you were not clear as to who even put the question--that leap into affirmative acceptance was the point of conversion. A new person was born that day and with it came the precious gifts of meaning and freedom. What would, be your response to the condition of world government as it exists today? Was all your work worthwhile? Despite the powerlessness of the United Nations, despite the wars that go on daily and the fragile peace in the non-military sections of the planet, despite the narrow supercilious nationalisms causing incredible blindness, your work was not in vain. Your expertise, dedication and world consciousness have made their mark and furthered the cause of peace that is absolutely crucial for the family of man. The ideal has been kept alive and your contributions to the common good are inestimable. Hopefully, others will follow who will carry on this ministry to world peace and justice. The ultimate meaning in life which emerged time and again from your journal is love. Beyond obedience, beyond fear, beyond openness to life is this great force and power of radical care. Without it, division and alienation rage; with it, there comes the joy and peace of those who touch and have been touched by God. The beauty of life is that love found expression in action which you see as "the road to holiness" for our times. You walked it well; may we be but a step behind. With gratitude, RFM 652 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 Friendship Lislening Love HMmor Love Growth Within-hess Purity Holiness Obedience Instrumentality Fa#h Hum~ Every deed and every relationship is surrounded by an atmosphere of silence. Friendship needs no words--it is solitude delivered from the anguish of loneliness. (8) The more faithfully you listen to the voice within you, the better you will hear what is sounding outside. And only he who listens can speak. Is this the starting point of the road towards the union of your two dreams--to be allowed in clarity of mind to mirror life and in purity of heart to mold it? (13) Perhaps a great love is never returned. Had it been given warmth and shelter by its counterpart in the Other, perhaps it would have been hindered from ever growing to maturity. It "gives" us nothing. But in its world of loneliness it leads us up to summits with wide vistas--of insight. (42) A grace to pray for--that our self-interest, which is inescapable, shall never cripple our sense of humor, that fully conscious self-scrutiny. which alone can save us. (43) Our love becomes impoverished if we lack the courage to sacrifice its object. (56) If only 1 may grow: firmer, simpler--quieter, warmer. (93) To be able to see, hear, and attend to that within us which is there in the darkness and the silence. (97) To be pure in heart means, among other things, to have freed yourself from all such half-measures: from a tone of voice which places you in the limelight, a furtive acceptance of some desire of the flesh which ignores the desire of the spirit, a self-righteous reaction to others in their moments of weakness. (109) In our era, the road to holiness necessarily passes through the world of action. (122) Beyond obedience, its attention fixed on the goal--freedom from fear. Beyond fear--openness to live and beyond that--love. (129) Rejoice if you feel that what you did was "necessary," but remember, even so, that you were simply the instrument by means of which He added one tiny grain to the Universe He has created for His own purposes. (143) We act in faith--and miracles occur. In consequence, we are tempted to make the miracles the ground for our faith. The cost of such weakness is that we lose the confidence of faith. Faith is, faith creates, faith carries. It is not derived from, nor created, nor carried by anything except its own reality. (145) Humility is just as much the opposite of self-abasement as it is of self-exaltation. To be humble is not to make comparisons. Secure in its reality, the self is neither better nor worse, bigger nor smaller, than anything else in the universe. It is--is nothing, yet at the same time one with everything. It is in this sense that humility is absolute self-effacement. (174) From Markings, by Dag HammarskjiSld, translated by Leif Sjoberg and W. H. Auden, by pernaission of Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. All rights reserved, 1964. Crisis in Personal Prayer: Reflections of Pope Paul VI J. Michael Miller, C.S.B. Father Miller is an Associate Professor in the Department of Theology of the University of St. Thomas, where he may be addressed: 3812 Montrose Blvd.; Houston, TX 77006. Shortly after his election to the papacy twenty years ago, Pope Paul VI confided to his friend Jean Guitton, "Montini has disappeared, Peter has replaced him."~ Of his interior life, consequently, we know very little: no Journal of a Soul, no published diaries, few unedited notes. The silence that had always surrounded his own life of prayer became absolute after he was elected pope. Nothing undoubtedly would have embarrassed this shy, inward man more than the revelation after his death that he often wore a hair shirt under his white cassock3 The fascinating spiritual biography of the pope who led the Church in its most tumultuous days since the Reformation remains to be written. Can nothing then be said about his prayer life? its difficulties? its structure? its emergence from a soul steeped in the anguish of the twentieth century's alienation and loneliness? Not a buoyant optimist as was John XXIII, Paul VI disappointed those who desired a charismatic, powerful personality to lead the Church in the wake of his popular predecessor. Especially in the last years of his pontificate, his tired and stilted movements (caused by painful arthritis) inspired little optimism. He was accused of being indecisive, lackluster, too progressive and too reactionary. Sharply aware of the "formidable burden" of his office and of his "apparent incommunicability," Pope Paul was thus no stranger to humani-ty's doubts and anxieties. Despite his reticence and his quasi-mystical assump tion of the ministry of Peter, Paul VI has nonetheless left us some reflections on the contemporary crisis in the practice of personal prayer--instructions which he shared with the people of God over the course of fifteen years of catechesis, exhortation, and homily. We can glean from these talks, which he 653 654 / Review for Religious, Sept,-Oct., 1983 wrote himself, some understanding of his own prayer life of which they are an echo. His remarks on prayer spring from a soul enmeshed in this "sad, dra-matic, and magnificent earth," as he described human existence in his last will and testament. The pope was a sensitive and compassionate man whose life of prayer was filled with a serenity and hope which belie those who thought him to be crushed by his own sense of responsibility and the suffering of both the Church and the world. While Pope Paul elaborated no systematic doctrine on prayer or the spiri-tual life, he consistently exhorted the faithful to pray and dedicated numerous discourses to the specific theme of personal prayer. On occasion he set aside for the topic two, three, or even four discourses in succession--as in August 1969, Eastertide 1970, or after Pentecost in 1976. The Holy Year of 1975--its preparation, realization, and aftermath--also stimulated his reflections on prayer. Nonetheless, Paul VI never presented a long and sustained theology on this theme such as that which John Paul II delivered in 1980 on marriage and sexuality in the opening chapters of Genesis. For this article, then, I have organized thematically material drawn from disparate talks over Paul's fifteen-year pontificate (1963-1978). At every point my primary interest is to allow the penetrating insights, concise and chiseled language, and ever-present serenity of Paul VI to speak for themselves: they reveal the contemporary person before personal prayer, the difficulties it entails, and its fundamental conversational structure. Is There a Crisis in Personal Prayer? Not infrequently Pope Paul lamented the declining practice of prayer in the modern world. He noted "with regret that personal prayer is diminishing'~ and that "unfortunately today many people no longer pray, do not pray at all. ,,4 In several discourses on prayer he mentions this decline and uses it as his point of departure: "A simple enquiry on the religious habits of the people of our time would yield sad findings on the complete, or almost complete, absence of personal prayer in a very large number of persons, now alien to, and alienated from, all expressions of inner religious feeling.'~ The crisis reaches "even those who are consecrated to the Lord [who] pray less than was once usual.TM Yet, despite, this grim evaluation of the contemporary situation, Paul VI did not take refuge in complaint. Instead he observed attentively in order to discover the reasons for the decline and, finding the reasons, to encourage hopeful signs wherever they appeared. More the pastor than the judge, he wanted to draw Christians, especially the young, to return to per-sonal prayer. Because Paul VI did not divorce his ministry from service to the world, he sought to reawaken humanity's thirst for the interior life by leading it to dis-cover in its own sterile experience of the world the foundation for prayer. He therefore tried to explain why modern men and women find it so difficult, so joyless to pray. Again and again he returns to his own straightforward ques- Crisis in Personal Prayer / 655 tion: "Why js interior life, that is the life of prayer, less intense and less easy for people of our time, for ourselves?''~ His assessment spurred him to try to ac-count for this unfortunate situation and thereby turn it to pastoral advantage. Reasons for the Crisis While Pope Paul never neatly outlined all the reasons for the contempo-rary crisis in prayer, his many discourses, however, reveal at least five explana-tions which touch the heart of the matter: Exteriorization. According to Paul VI, "we are brought up and educated to live exterior lives.TM A concentration on the marvelous and exciting things of this world has so displaced "equal training in the interior life" that few know its laws and satisfactions. The decline in practice is less a matter of man's deliber-ate unwillingness to pray than of his preference for more gratifying diversions. The ~'fascinating" media of film and television, for example, militate against the cultivation of a prayer life. If these media are watched "assiduously or obsessively," he says, they can "take the place of speculative thought, fill the mind with empty fantasies (see Ws 4:12), and urge it on to what it has seen." The human mind is reduced to the sensory world alone and "exteriorized." Given this situation, Paul goes on to ask, "Where is there any room for spiritual life, prayer, dependence on that prime principle which is God, when the consciousness is habitually crowded with these intruding and often futile and harmful images?"~ This first point is simple: a mind and heart filled with vain images leaves neither room nor interest for prayer. Materialism. A "deluded consideration that reality, the whole of reality, is that of the sense order, that of temporal and material experience" increases humanity's obliviousness to its spiritual depths. Crushed by work, study, and absorption in worldly affairs, we are in danger of closing ourselves to the transcendent, to the call to prayer. When knowledge is reduced to physical and quantitative laws, and God is "excluded as the transcendent Principle of the universe, and therefore also of every free and wise intervention in the world of our experience," Pope Paul then asks, "how could man address a word to the unknown God, try to dialogue with him, invoke his loving Providenc.6?" Whenever nothingness is proclaimed at the summit of the universe, he con-tinues, then people are "made incapable of prayer." Instead they are forced to strengthen the "mystification of self-sufficiency."0 Materialism and secularism lead to "putting prayer out of public life and private habit.TM Scientism. The frequently vaunted capacity of science to explain everything without reference to a transcendent cause calls into question the value of imploring a provident and personal God. Paul VI often follows the Thomistic .nodel of first outlining and then answering objections squarely. He comments, ~or example, that we have "to keep in mind the classic and usual objection nowadays, about the uselessness of prayer for us modern men, who by means of scientific progress have a knowledge of. the cosmos and human life ~hich makes it useless to have recourse to God to intervene in the scheme of causal- 656 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 ity, over which we ourselves either have control or know its fatality." After thus fairly presenting the objection, he answers that science "does not deem the influence of divine action superfluous in the play of natural causes, but recog-nizes it and to a certain extent., postulates it, invokes it, prays to it with increased understanding of divine and human things."~2 Paul VI refused to concede that science and technology could provide a satisfactory excuse for not praying. Rather, he insisted that scientists should not curtail the metaphys-ical and: mystical possibilities raised by the depth and precision of their disci-plines. If honestly undertaken their study should lead them not to silence but to dialogue with their Creator. Lack of a Religious Sense. Coupled with the exteriorization of the human mind, secularism, and scientism is a decline in humanity's "basic religious sense." Without this sense a personal spiritual life is impossible. Even before a person consciously prays, the person must have "that perhaps vague, but deep, mysterious and stimulating sense of God which is the basis of prayer."Is Because this religious sense is the atmosphere from which our thin voices can be raised in prayer, Pope Paul admonishes everyone to "try to find the routes leading to the religious sense, to the mystery of God, and then to colloquy and union with God.TM A world which excludes the mystery and beauty of God sweeps away the foundation of the interior life. Social Activism. Another Pauline explanation for the declining practice of prayer is the false emphasis some Catholics place on social conct~rns. The pope of Populorum progressio (1967) and Octogesima adveniens ( 1971) warned that social activism threatens to displace the interior life of prayer. Those who maintain that charity towards one's neighbor is enough are tempted to regard prayer as an obstacle to action, "as if they were competing for time, now scarce." Quite simply, according to Paul, prayer is "an indispensable coefficient of apostolic action."15 Without prayer, loving communion with Jesus Christ, the Church is unable "to contest a society in which everything is staked on apparent efficiency."~6 Without prayer, the Church would be "some kind of philanthropic humanism, or some sort of purely temporal sociological organi-zation,"~ 7 but it would not be the Body of Christ which worships the Father through the Son in the Holy Spirit. Signs of Hope Despite the "formidable, but false" reasons why many people neither want to pray nor know how to pray nor do pray, the Church remains a "prayer association." It is in and through the Church, according to the pope, that humanity "has found the authentic way of praying, through Christ the sole high priest, that is, the way of speaking to God, of talking with God, of speaking about God."~8 Anchored deeply in the life of the Church and aware of her spiritual fiches, Paul VI was nevertheless able to discern within contem-porary secular experience an opening to prayer that many others brushed aside as irrelevant or unredeemable. Not satisfied with a mere description of the Crisis in Personal Prayer crisis, he always tried to dig deeper, to unravel, to make explicit the implicit, to reveal the hidden. The key to his theological and pastoral method was his indefatigable desire to "rescue" the potential of every twentieth-century philo-sophical and cultural movement--to unearth its latent possibilities. What many perceived as weakness or indecisiveness was really the pope's ability to grasp the multi-sided complexity of the modern world and his seeking to read the "signs of the times." In his discourses on prayer he applied his own method: to bring into focus the ways in which contemporary experience, especially that of the young, has within itself the capacity to promote a loving dialogue with God rather than a monologue with nothingness. Paradoxically, then, the modern spirit contains the seeds of its possible redemption. During the Holy Year, Pope Paul commented on the plausibility of a reaction setting in among young people which would turn them once again to the practice of personal prayer. Spontaneously alienated by the empti-ness of denying God, "these young people come forward, sad and tormented by the need of a real religion, which will make it possible still to talk to God, to pray to him, to know that he is accessible and close, provident and loving."19 Rather than despair at their denial of God and of the possibility and power of prayer, Paul VI chose to encourage them to reach deeper into their own experience and acknowledge their inner thirst for God. At a Wednesday audience two years before his death he said: Is there not, perhaps, at the bottom of the contesting bitterness of so many young people today a state of mind that is lamentation, poetry, invocation, which it seems permissible to classify under the sign of prayer, a sign that has survived the hurricanes of modern disillusionment? Yes, the temple of prayer opens its doors to the men of our time, and they, most certainly, feel that it would be wonderful to go in again. But they are hesitant: how dare they? And how to pray?--they think. It is worthwhile accompanying them and inviting them again to pray with us30 Ever anxious to accompany and encourage, Pope Paul perceived that "a need, an orientation, a sympathy for some form of prayer is being born again in the heart of the present generation.'~ From the experience of alienation can emerge a rekindled interest and thirst for the Living God. Such sentiments are certainly those of a man confident that truth will eventually prevail. In a moving description of the desperation of the young and their world, Paul VI strives to discern in their pleas an unacknowledged but real prayer raised to God. He recognizes in those who "hear no other call but that of a wasteland, on which they have fallen in an attitude of listless sadness to testify to the unhappy emptiness of their existence . a kind of existential moan of their innate desire to live, to survive." He does not hesitate to call this "a prayer; yes, a prayer conscious only of the desperate devaluation of every magnified modern experience, a kind of De profundis, to the atrocious inner torment." Like the Athenians who did not recognize the objective orientation of their longing (see Ac 17:23), so today the young do not often recognize in 65~1 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 their alienation their "innate, anguished need of Life, transcendent, rising again, divine." From out of the depths of this human anguish, according tO the pope, the possibility arises of encountering "a mysterious wayfarer, exhausted under a cross, who repeats his paradoxical but fascinating invitation: 'Come to me! And I will give you rest'" (Mt 11:28).22 In the very cry of those seemingly without God is revealed the first fashioning of prayer. Always intent on reaching to the crux of the matter and belie.ving that the human person "remains radically religious, essentially oriented towards the quest for God, towards a relationship with him, and therefore eager for, and capable of, personal prayer," Paul VI regards the spontaneous cries of the heart as the beginning of authentic prayer, the ''prayer-spark" which "bursts forth from the soul" in an "almost explosive" manner. Even for those untrained in religious conversation such a cry is a minimal, sometimes unno-ticed, expression of the soul's conversation with God.23 In this way, Paul seems to suggest the presence of a kind of"anonymous prayer" in the soul of many of his contemporaries. According to him, the drama of twentieth-century thought leads either to the failure of desolate skepticism or to "a science of God, which cannot remain just inert and passive, but experiences the logic, the vital urge to express a word; a word addressed to God: a call? praise? an attempt at dialogue? In any case, a prayer.'~4 If people would but open their eyes and their mind, they would discover in their own groans the beginning of prayer. Prayer as "Intoxicating Dialogue" Though Paul VI neither provided a manual on the practice of prayer nor described its dynamics in any detail, he frequently recalled the fundamental structure of personal prayer as God's call and an individual's response. The pope often reminds his listeners that even before a word is on our tongue, God himself is within us in "that mysterious and indescribable appointment which God, the one and threefold God, deigns to make with us, for filial and over-flowing conversation within our very selves."25 God reveals himself to us from within; he is closer to us than we are to ourselves. Paul never tired of calling to mind the mystery of the divine indwelling as the condition which makes all praying possible. Everyone needs to learn to pray inside oneself and by oneself, because God is with us inviting and beckoning us to interior.persona! p.m_ y~er. Despite our laziness, our being "slow and restive interlocutors," as the pope says, it is God who precedes and loves and goes in search of us first.26 Paul Vl's emphasis on personal, private prayer stems from his keen awareness that "the essentia! crossroads at which there is a meeting with the religious mystery, with God, is within us, in the interior room of our spirit and in that personal activity we call prayer.'~7 Liturgical prayer can never replace internal awareness and dialogue with the God who encounters us from within. Both God's sending of his Son in the Incarnation and of his Spirit at Pentecost provoke a "listening" in the heart of the believer. After listening to God's invitation, the pope said, "we cannot remain silent and inert" but must Crisis in Personal Prayer / 659 seek to respond.2s Paul VI was fond of referring to prayer as "conversation" or "dialogue"---terms dear to his theological method as it emerges, for example, in his first encyclical, Ecclesiam suam (1964). The simplest raising of the heart to God is already prayer when the mysterious Other is addressed, however inarticulately, as "thou." Nor is the individual disappointed "with the new joy of an intoxicating reply: Ecce adsum; here I am."~9 Prompted by the Spirit to recognize God within, and then to address him, the person is comforted with a reply. God listens. Dialogue unfolds "through filial conversation and concen-trated silence with him."~0 Prayer, then, is simple, austere and loving conversa-tion, an "intoxicating dialogue.TM In an address directed to rekindling the religious sense among men and women of today, Paul describes the dialogue which follows upon a person's awareness of God: Prayer is conversation: a conversation carried on by our personalities with the invisible companion, of whose presence we have become aware: the holy Living One, who fills us with awe and love, the indescribable Godhead, whom Christ (see Mt 11:27) taught us to call Father through his priceless gift of revelation)2 With his customary care to answer objections anticipated in the minds of his listeners, Pope Paul insists that prayer is authentic only when coupled with trust. The fear that our words are "a voice in the darkness" or merely "despair-ing poetry" is real. But once we remember that prayer begins with God and is established by Christ, it cannot be a monologue. Our very response is necessar-ily a dialogue.33 The "essential pattern of prayer" is that of a "conversation between God and the person,"a conversation which arises from a bilateral and beneficial relationship anchored in God's graciousness and an individual's trust.~ This model of prayer is readily accessible to contemporary human experience; it needs only to be'unlocked and directed to the God who waits. Conclusion Thus spoke Paul VI on prayer. To paraphrase St. John (20:30), there are many other things which Pope Paul said about prayer, but they are not ~ecorded in this article: his unceasing encouragement of liturgical prayer as the outflow of personal prayer, his esteem for the practice of simple vocal prayer, his promotion of Marian prayer. All these themes, and many more, together make up the rich legacy ori prayer which the pope bequeathed to the Church. Though not always highly original in his instruction, he taught assiduously the value and need for prayer if contemporary humanity is to survive. Paul VI restated traditional doctrine with a vigor and finesse attuned to our contem-porary self-understanding. More than all else, however, his calm and confi-dence that God is working through our barrenness to invite us to prayer is an encouraging testimony that from the very poverty of our existence might emerge the riches of loving dialogue with the Triune God. 660 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 NOTES ~Jean Guitton, Paul VI secret (Paris, 1979), p. 12. 2Ibid., p. 15. 3The Teachings of Pope Paul VI, vol. 3 (Vatican City, 1971), p. 145 (22 April 1970). All subsequent references are to the collected works published in ~e Teachings of Pope Paul VL I I vols. (Vatican City, 1969-1979, also reprinted by the USCC). The date of the original papal discourse follows in parentheses. 4Teachings 8, p. 86 (30 July 1975). ~Teachings 7, p. 14 (23 January 1974). 6Teachings 2, p. 219 (13 August 1969). 7Teachings 2, p. 220 (13 August 1969). STeachings 2, p. 220 (13 August 1969). 9Teachings 2, p. 228 (27 August 1969). ~°Teachings 8, pp. 8687 (30 July 1975). ~ Teachings 2, p. 223 (21 August 1969). ~2Teachings 7, p. 147 (23 October 1974). ~3Teachings 2, p. 226 (27 August 1969). ~4Teachings 2, p. 228 (27 August 1969). ~Teachings 9, pp. 105-106 (8 September 1976). ~rTeachings 8, p. 415 (12 November 1975). ~TTeachings 3, p. 144 (22 April 1970). ~STeachings 3, p. 143 (22 April 1970). ~gTeachings 8, p. 87 (30 July 1975). ~°Teachings 9, p. 67 (9 June 1976). ~ Teachings 7, p. 19 (30 January 1974). 2~Teachings 7, pp. 145-146 (23 October 1974). 2aTeachings 7, pp. 14-15 (23 January 1974). ~4Teachings 9, p. 66 (9 June 1976). ~STeachings 3, p. 145 (22 April 1970). 26 Teachings 7, p. 15 (23 January 1974). :T Teachings 2, p. 221 (13 August 1969). 28Teachings 7, p. 17 (30 January 1974). ~gTeachings 2, p. 221 (13 August 1969). ~°Teachings 2, p. 225 (21 August 1969). ~ Teachings 8, p. 63 (2 June 1976). J~Teachings 2, p. 226 (27 August 1969). J~Teachings 7, p. 19 (30 January 1974). ~Teachings 9, p. 68 (16 June 1976). The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63106 Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer Thomas E. Clarke, S.J. Father Clarke, theologian, writer and lecturer, is well known for his work with renewal efforts in a variety of communities. He now resides in a small pastoral community where he may be addressed: 126 West 17th St.; New York, NY 10011. It is well known that Jungian spirituality--approaches to human and Christian development which draw on the insights of Carl Jung--is experi-encing a high point of interest and influence.~ More specifically, the Jungian psychological types are attracting many, especially as these types are identified by the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI), a preference measurement perfected over several decades by the late Isabel Briggs Myers.2 More particularly still, there is considerable interest in describing forms of prayer which correspond to the categories of the Jungian typology.3 In this context the present article seeks to identify and reflect on ways of praying which correspond to the functions and attitudes of the Jungian schema; it will also offer some suggestions and cautions towards the further exploration of such correspondences. It is written not only for those who are already acquainted with their MBTI types, but also for those seeking a basic explanation of this instrument in its usefulness for prayer. These observations are based on a dozen retreat/workshop experiences of six days which have sought to aid Christian growth by correlating Jungian type-categories with Gospel themes and Christian practices. They are also meant to supplement what has been said in a recent book transposing the retreat/workshop into print.4 The scope of this article is quite limited. First, it does not profess to know how people or groups belonging to any one of the sixteen types actually prefer to pray or, still less, ought to pray. Secondly, it does not seek to correlate each of the sixteen types with one or more forms of prayer. The basis of the correlations here suggested will be the four functions, with some consideration of the attitudes of introversion and extraversion. 661 66~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 The article does, however, go beyond the previously mentioned literature in three ways. First, it will speak not only of the prayer of individuals but also, though less in detail, of prayer in groups and in liturgical assemblies. Secondly, it will raise the question of prayer as a form of leisure, hence as a time for making friends with the shadow side of one's personality. And thirdly, it will raise the question of forms of prayer for individuals at different stages of life's journey. A Preliminary Observation One final preliminary re~ark needs to be made, on the method of correlation followed in our retreat/workshop, in the chapters of From Image to Likeness, and in the present article. Jungian theory and the Christian Gospel are two quite distinct and heterogeneous interpretations of what it means to be human. The properly behavioral and the properly religious dimensions of life are irreducible one to the other. Even where common terms, drawn from either sector, are used, we must be wary of assuming a univocal sense. Carl Jung presented himself principally as pursuing the science of the soul. Jesus Christ is God's Word of salvation, the founder of the faith community which bears his name. Nevertheless there are between the insights of Jung and the teachings of Jesus significant affinities, likenesses, analogies. As in the case of Plato and Aristotle, Darwin and Marx, penetrating Jungian insights into the human condition can meet, and be met by, facets of the Gospel. The method employed here, then, is one which centers on such resemblances. My impression is that much of the energy generated within Jungian spirituality today derives from the exciting discovery that these two basic perceptions of our humanity often converge in remarkable ways. The convergence on which we will focus here is that which obtains between the characteristics of each of the Jungian functions and different forms of Christian prayer. The Jungian Types My guess is that most readers of this article have already been introduced to the Jungian types either directly or through some such instrument as the MBTI. But a brief summary may be helpful, at least to those not acquainted with the types. Carl Jung's clinical experience acquainted him with the fact that while we all engage in common forms of behavior we also differ notably from one another in our behavioral preferences, and hence in the way in which we grow humanly. He used two generic terms, perceiving and judging, to designate the alternating rhythm, present in each person, of a) taking in reality, being shaped by it, and b) shaping reality, responding to it. Each of these two postures was specified, Jung postulated, in two contrasting functions. Perceiving (P) was specified as either sensing (S), the Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer / 663 function through which, with the help of the five senses, we perceive reality in its particularity, concreteness, presentness; or as intuiting (N), the function through which, in dependence on the unconscious and with the help of imagination, we perceive reality in its wholeness, its essence, its future potential. Judging (J) was also specified, in either thinking (T), by which we come to conclusions and make decisions on the basis of truth, logic, and right order; or in feeling (F), which prompts conclusions and decisions attuned to our subjective values and sensitive to the benefit or harm to persons--ourselves or others--which may result from our behavior. All four of these functions, Jung affirmed, can be exercised by way of extraversion or by way of introversion. He invented this now celebrated distinction to describe the flow of psychic energy inlany given instance of behavior. In extraverted behavior the flow of energy is from the subject towards the object of perception or judgment. In introverted behavior, the flow of energy is in the opposite direction, that is, from the object towards the subject. What makes the difference is not precisely whether the target of our perception or judgment is something outside ourselves or within ourselves, but which way the energy is flowing. Rather commonly, the impulse to share one's perception or judgment immediately with others or at least to give it bodily expression, signals the presence of extraversion (E); while a tendency to gather the perceiving or judging behavior and to deal with it within oneself marks introversion (I). Working independently of Jung, and on theoretical foundations previously explored by her mother, Isabel Briggs Myers developed an instrument which, on the basis of a preference questionnaire, indicated how the respondent prefers to behave in given situations. The typology is based on four sets of polar opposites: extraversion/introversion; sensing/intuiting; thinking/feeling; judging/perceiving. In tabular form: E-I S-N T-F J-P The four pairs of opposites in varying combinations yield sixteen types, each of which is identified with its code e.g. ESTJ; ISFP; ENFJ. In the process of decoding, which we cannot describe in detail here, one arrives at the order of preference of the four functions (described as dominant, auxiliary, third, and inferior), as well as the attitude (introversion or extraversion) of the dominant function. Thus one person's most preferred behavior will be extraverted feeling, another's introverted intuiting, and so forth. Also worth noting is that when the dominant function is a perceiving function (sensing or intuiting), the auxiliary function will be one of the two judging functions (thinking or feeling), the third function will be the other judging function, and the inferior function will be the perceiving function opposite to the dominant 664 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 function. A corresponding pattern will obtain where the dominant function is a judging function. This is one way in which Jung's view of"compensation," or the tendency of the psyche towards balance, is verified. Extensive research and testing, especially with respect to the professions chosen by people of various types, enabled Isabel Myers to construct profiles of the sixteen types. These in turn have won for the M BTI an extensive use in the fields of career guidance, personnel policy, and the dynamics of groups and organizations. The key psychological insight on which the MBTI capitalizes is that people's behavior, development, and relationships are strongly affected by their preferences in perceiving and judging, as well as by the extraverted or introverted character of the respective preferences. If one makes the assumption that persons are capable of enlightenment and growth through free exercise towards more human ways of living, this psychometric tool then becomes a vehicle of human development. Such is the conviction which has sparked enormous interest in the MBTI in recent years. Out of the work of these two American women has emerged the Association for Psychological Type, whose membership has reached 1500, and which has sponsored five biennial conferences for discussing numerous aspects of the typology. One of the interest areas provided for in APT covers religious education, spiritual growth, prayer styles, missionary service, and similar themes.5 With this brief outline of the various functions and the two attitudes which qualify human behavior, we now turn to correlating each of the four functions with forms of Christian prayer. In the case of each of the functions we will ask: What are some of the forms of prayer--individual, group, and liturgical-- which correspond to this function? Sensing Forms of Prayer Forms of prayer corresponding to the sensing function will be, in general, those ways of praying in which we pay attention to present reality in a focused way, whether with the help of the five external senses or through a simple perception of interior reality. Here are some examples of what we may call sensing prayer. l) Vocalprayer, such as the recitation of the psalms or the rosary, will be sensing prayer when the posture of the one praying is characterized by simple attentiveness, a certain contentment with each passing phrase, and an eschewing of rational thought, imaginative scenarios, and strong emotional investment. Sensing prayer tends for the most part to be simple, quiet, undramatic, contemplative, and down to earth. Vocal prayer, whether the words are recited aloud, gently murmured, or just expressed within, are apt vehicles for exercising this side of our personality. 2) The "prayer of simple regard" is a traditional term used to describe a kind of prayer which, I would suggest, has ~he characteristics of sensing prayer. It consists in just "being there," present to present reality, especially to God within the mystery of divine presence. It needs no words (except perhaps to Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer / 665 recall one from distraction) and does not involve strong y~arnings of the heart, but in simplicity accepts the "sacrament of the present moment." 3) The prayerful "application of the senses" may also be an exercise of sensing prayer. But here I understand this term as referring to the use of the five exterior senses, or any one of them, on their appropriate objects. The first part of Fr. Anthony de Mello's widely ready book Sadhana contains many such exercises which he lists under "Awareness.TM The sense of touch, for example, may be prayerfully exercised just by letting myself become aware of bodily sensation, beginning perhaps with the shoulders and working down to the soles of the feet. Touch is also exercised when I attend to how, in breathing, I feel the air as it enters and leaves the nostrils. Listening to sounds in a quiet posture of receptivity and enjoyment is another instance of sensing prayer. Provided I have entered this exercise with faith, I do not need to have recourse to the thought of God or to any devout feelings, even though, as Ft. de Mello suggests, a variation of this exercise might consist in hearing the sounds as God sounding in all the sounds made by nature and humans. Thus the chatter of voices, the purr of a motor in the basement, or the thunder of a ride on the New York subway, can be grist for the mill of sensing prayer. Something similar may be said for gazing as a form of sensing prayer. I may look at objects of devotion, at pictures in a book or album, at faces in a crowd, at the beauties of nature. Even taste and smell can be vehicles of prayer for a person exercising faith with a heightened consciousness. 4) Sensing prayer can also draw upon the interior sense, our capacity for paying attention to what is going on within us. Focusing on our breathing or our heartbeat can be a point of entry. Then we may choose simply to attend to what is happening in inner consciousness, to the words, images, or feelings which spontaneously bubble up from the unconscious. Sometimes this kind of exercise can induce a gradual slowing or cessation of inner chatter, and we can for a while just listen to the silence within. We may even come to a happy interior verification of the Quaker motto, "Don't speak until you can improve on silence." Sometimes people ask with regard ,to such exercises, "Is it really prayer?" Even if it were not, it would not be a bad way of disposing ourselves for prayer. But when it is situated within a life of faith and for the purpose of expressing and deepening our faith, it can be prayer---excellent prayer---even though we do not name God, converse with God, or experience any devout surge of the heart. Sensing Prayer in Groups So far I have been suggesting sensing forms of prayer for the individual. But groups can also pray with an accent on sensing. Various kinds of vocal prayer such as litanies or the Office in common, especially when they are engaged in with simplicity and even with a certain routine, enable the members 666 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 of a group to meet God and one another through the sensing function. It is also possible to create prayer services in which each of the five senses has its place, as, for example, by listening to the tinkle of a bell or to a guitar quietly strumming; by devoutly kissing a crucifix or extending a handclasp of peace; by smelling incense or flowers; by tasting a sip of wine; by focusing on the lighting of a candle. Sensing prayer in common leaves aside what is highly cognitive or interpersonal or imaginative. It calls the group to be together with a great deal of simplicity and quiet awareness of God, one another, and the environment. Sensing in IJturgical Prayer There are times when people come together in larger groups to pray, and particularly to participate in the official or public prayer of the Church. When we celebrate the Eucharist and other sacraments and the divine Office in large assemblies, prayer takes on what I would call a societal character, in contrast to the interpersonal character of prayer shared in small groups.7 The general thesis which I would propose is that a well-celebrated liturgy needs to attend to all four functions. Ideally, each participant and the congregation as a whole should have the opportunity to exercise both sensing and intuiting, thinking and feeling, in extraverted and introverted ways. In the present aspect, sensing prayer, liturgical celebration will meet our humanity when it evokes the exercise of the five senses in a congruous way by inviting the participants to look, listen, touch, taste, and smell, all in a fashion which nourishes their faith and deepens their solidarity. There is no need here to detail how apt the celebration of the sacraments in the Christian and Catholic tradition is for meeting this need of human personality. My impression is that consequent upon Vatican II the effort to break out of liturgical straitjackets sometimes brought an "angelism" insensitive to the importance of the senses in good eucharistic celebration. Heightened attention to the homily tended to move celebration excessively towards the cognitive, to the neglect of the sensate, elements of good celebration. To some degree we are today recovering the importance of the life of the senses in liturgy. This Jungian approach to societal prayer can assist in that recovery. Intuiting Prayer Intuiting prayer may be described as contemplative prayer drawing upon fantasy and imagination, as well as what might be called the prayer of emptiness or the "prayer of the vacant stare. The Jungian tradition uses the term "active imagination" to designate those behaviors in which we let images and symbols freely emerge from the unconscious and flow in consciousness. The term "active" could be misleading, if taken with a connotation of control or shaping reality. There is a sense in which this use of imagination is not active but passive, as the person's posture is one of receptivity. The orientation of such prayer is to what might be, to futuresdreamed of rather than planned. As Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer / 667 the five senses and the interior sense are the vehicles of sensing prayer, so the gift of imagination is what carries intuiting prayer. But, in my opinion, the intuiting function can be at work in prayer even when images are not freely flowing. The vacant stare into space aptly symbolizes a contemplative posture in prayer which is aptly subsumed under intuiting prayer. In such prayer the mind is not occupied with thoughts, the imagination is not delivering images or symbols, and the heart is not strongly surging toward the good. Such prayer of emptiness appears to differ sharply from the prayer of a simple regard, even though both forms are characterized by an absence of thoughts, images, and strong feelings. The difference consists in the focused or unfocused character of the gaze. To use a playful distinction which I once heard Brother David Rast employ, in the prayer of simple regard we are now/here, fully present to the present actuality of life, whereas in what I call the prayer of the vacant stare we are no/where (recall that the Greek term for nowhere is Utopia). Centering Prayer In this context it is worth asking just where "centering prayer" as developed by Fr. Basil Pennington is best situated from the standpoint of the four Jungian functions.8 My own inclination is to view it as a form of intuiting prayer. It is true that centering prayer makes use of a word in the journey to the center; and, as we shall see, the word in prayer belongs primarily to the thinking function. But here the word is functioning not as a mediator of rational meaning but as a carrier of the spirit to the beyond. Centering prayer .has a predominantly unfocused character and brings us to a certain emptiness. Hence I would put it with intuiting prayer. All of this having been said, here are some examples of intuiting prayer for the individual. 1) We have just discussed a first form, centering prayer in the proper sense. 2) The familiar "contemplations" of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius are appropriately listed under intuiting prayer. But it needs to be noted that these contemplations of the mysteries of the life of Jesus belong also to feeling prayer, as we will see. The imagination is exercised with freedom, but with a view to drawing the heart in love. It is the feeling function, we shall se~, which relates to the past through reminiscence. Perhaps a large part of the power of the Ignatian contemplations consists in the fact that both the dreaming imagination and the heart are drawn on to energize the retreatant engaged in the process of "election." Something similar may be said of the contemplation of the mysteries of the rosary. The imagination freely recreates a scene which contains in symbolic form deep Christian values. 3) Various kinds of fantasy in prayer have an intuitive character. Anthony de Mello's book here again contains some interesting exercises, Christian and non-Christian, under the general heading of "Fantasy." Some which might appear at first to be quite macabre can be a source of intense joy and peace: 661~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 attending your own funeral, or the "fantasy on the corpse" which Fr. de Mellow borrowed from the Buddhist series of "reality meditations." 4) Ira Progoff's "Intensive Journal," both in the sections devoted to dealing with dreams and in the various kinds of dialogues, offers an abundance of forms of intuiting prayer. The dialogues may be said to combine intuiting and thinking prayer, the latter because of the dialogue form of the prayer. 5) Praying with the help of symbols engages the intuitive function in a way that can energize us greatly. The journey, the cave, the house, the tree, the Cross, the City--these are just a few of the symbolic possibilities of intuitive prayer. Books of the Bible such as the Fourth Gospel and the Book of Revelation are a source of abundant Christian symbols which can be explored in prayer. 6) Finally, one may prayerfully explore God's call by asking the question, "What would it be like if . " envisaging oneself in alternative human situations, dreaming of new ways of one's pilgrimage. Intuiting Prayer for Groups Many of the approaches to intuiting prayer just described for the individual can be adapted for groups which are praying or prayerfully reflecting together. For example, a community which has gone off to the country or to the shore for some time together might have a very meaningful time of common prayer by having each member bring back some nature-object which symbolizes something important for that person. In planning for the year ahead, a community might put to itself the question, "What would it be like if . "making sure not to become too quickly pragmatic and sensible in dealing with the dreams of particular members for life in common. Another exercise of intuiting prayer in common might be to invite each member to select a Scripture passage which is symbolic of some aspect of the community's life, and to share the passages, taking care to be contemplative, without the need for discussion or response. Intuiting in Liturgical Prayer Lyrics from two well-known religious songs aptly characterize the intuitive element which ought to be present in any liturgical celebration. "Take us beyond the vision of this moment." and "Look beyond the bread you eat . "This note of "beyond," or (in Hopkins' poem, "The Leaden Echo and the Golden Echo") "yonder," corresponds to the eschatological quality of Christian faith. In sacramental celebration, it is the complexus of ritual gestures and of symbols which principally contains the invitation to dream, to be open to a limitless future which is God. Psychologically, this facet of good liturgy is effectively present when the congregation as a whole shares, in joyful hope, this unfocused contemplative expectation of future blessing. Though it may find verbal expression, for example within the readings of the celebration, its primary vehicle will be symbol, inviting to the "vacant stare.~ Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer / 669 Feeling Prayer Forms of prayer which correspond to the feeling function are rather easily described. They will be exercises of prayer characterized by affection, intimacy, and the devout movement of the heart. More specifically, feeling prayer takes place when the exercise of memory in gratitude or compunction brings us back to the roots whence our values are derived, when we come back home, so to speak, in the mysteries of the Gospel, the origins of a particular religious heritage, or the sources in our own personal life through which the gift of faith came to us. The third section of de Mello's Sadhana contains an abundance of such exercises of prayer. Here is a briefer listing of some forms: l) Any form of prayer in which affective dialogue takes place, with God, with Jesus or Mary or any of the saints, or with those who have been important in our personal life, verifies this kind of prayer. In the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, the contemplation of the mysteries leads to such affectionate "colloquy," in which the grace being sought includes a growth in intimate love. 2) Aspirations, when they are repeated with a view to stirring the heart, are a second way of exercising feeling prayer. The "Jesus prayer" of the Eastern tradition, when said with a view to engaging the affections, is a major example. 3) One can also wander "down memory lane" in one's own life, recalling the persons, the experiences, the behaviors, which have had great influence on one's growth. Such prayer of the heart can often be combined with the exercise of imagination, as we recreate a scene of childhood, for example, or tender moments later in life which make us grateful. Gratitude and compunction are the two distinctive graces of such kinds of prayer. For each one of us, the past contains both the gifts of God, especially in the form of the goodness of persons, and our failure to respond trustingly and generously to those gifts. 4) All of us have favorite hymns and songs, and sometimes in solitary prayer our hearts can be deeply mox~ed by singing them quietly, or letting their melodies flow through our inner consciousness. 7he Feeling Function in Group Prayer When groups pray together with some regularity, it can help occasionally if the prayer is directed toward the heart. This calls for discretion, of course, for even when the members know each other well there will remain considerable differences in the ability and desire to manifest emotion in common prayer. But experience will show just what is possible and desirable. Music and song is an easy vehicle, usually unembarrassing. The group might listen to an endearing hymn, or to some instrumental music which appeals to the heart. Story telling, the sharing of personal history about a theme important for the faith life of the group, is another simple and easy way of being together in an affectionate way. 671) / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 Spontaneous prayer, in which people are free to pray aloud and from the heart, can also deepen the bonds of affection within a community, and strengthen the common commitment to shared values. This is an appropriate place to mention the relationship of spiritual direction. At least in a broad sense it is part of the prayer life of both the director and the one being directed. It calls for the engagement of all four of the functions. But, inasmuch as it is an intimate relationship of two persons of faith and aimed at the fostering of Gospel values in the life of the person being directed, it calls particularly for the exercise of the feeling function. This is not the place to discuss the question of friendship within this relationship of spiritual direction, apart from observing that there are contrary views on the subject. But, whatever discretion may be called for to preserve the character of the dialogue as one of spiritual, direction, it remains a situation where the feeling function is expressed interpersonally. Feeling in Public Prayer From'what has already been said readers will be able to describe for themselves the aspects of liturgical prayer and other forms of public prayer which correspond to the feeling function. There is significant difference, of course, between the face-to-face prayer of a small group and the largely anonymous quality of public prayer in large assemblages. There will be corresponding differences, therefore, in the ways in which this side of our humanity finds expression. In my opinion, one of the imbalances of recent years with regard to our expectations of liturgy is that we have often expected it to nourish intimacy in ways beyond its power. Concomitantly, we have tended to lose contact with the deep enrichment which can come to our affective life from such experiences of faith. However one may be personally disposed toward the large gatherings of charismatics which have become such an important part of public prayer and worship, it needs to be said that the charismatic movement is more effectively in touch with this facet of our humanity than most people are. Some of the scenes in which John Paul II has been involved in his worldwide travels provide a further illustration of the energy which flows from religious values through societal prayer and worship. In particular, hymns sung by thousands of voices can be memorable in their impact, as anyone who has been to Lourdes or Rome can testify. The Thinking Function in Prayer I have left the thinking function till last for a few reasons. One is that I find it to be neglected and even, at times, disparaged. Why this is the case is understandable in relationship to the rediscovery of the life of feeling which has taken place in Roman Catholic circles in recent decades. Prayer had, in many respects, become too "cognitized," partly through a reduction of the Ignatian tradition to what was conceived as the Ignatian method of prayer as Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer / 671 exemplified in the well-known schema of a nineteenth-century Jesuit general, John-Baptist Roothan. In any case the thinking function in prayer has a rather poor press nowadays. Even Anthony de Mello writes, A word about getting out of your head: The head is not a very good place for prayer. It is not a bad place for starting your prayer. But if your prayer stays there too long and doesn't move into the heart it will gradually dry up and prove tiresome and frustrating. You must learn to move out of the area of thinking and talking and move into the area of feeling, sensing, loving, intuiting? Ft. de Mello is faithful to this conviction, for his book is divided into three parts, corresponding more or less to the sensing, intuiting, and feeling functions. There is no section on thinking prayer. Doesn't something more positive need to be said about our capability of meeting God through the rational mind? Surely it is no less important a part of God's image in us than the life of sense, feeling, and imagination. And, within the unity of the person, it is intimately linked in its workings with the operations of these other facets of our humanity. But instead of arguing theoretically for a place for thinking in prayer, let me offer some examples of how one may pray with the rational mind. l) A clear instance of thinking prayer for the individual is the famous "First Principle and Foundation" of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola. I can ponder it during a period of prayer and, first, try to appreciate its simple logic in the linkage of purpose, means, and attitude. After savoring its truth I can then examine my life to see where there is order and-where there is disorder, and just what area calls for the struggle to be free from inordinate affections. Knowing that I cannot free myself, I can turn to ask God's help. Then I can make a few practical resolutions touching some steps on the road to freedom. Such highly cognitive activities in prayer are really prayer, and not merely preliminaries to prayer. 2) Prayer may also take the form of setting down a personal charter or set of basic principles by which I wish to live, e.g., "Every human being I meet is worthy of my respect." Periodically I can review this set of principles in order to evaluate and improve my fidelity. 3) I may choose also to draw up for myself a plan of life, which would include a daily or weekly schedule of prayer, reading, provisions for work and leisure, practice with respect to money, and so forth. 4) From time to time I may wish to take a book of the Bible, and, with the help of a good commentary, carefully and systematically over a period of some weeks seek a deeper grasp of God's word, attending to the structure of the work, its cultural setting, the precise meaning of terms, and so forth. I may wish to write my own paraphrase of the book, or use the text as the basis of my own reflections. Most of us are accustomed to contrast prayer and study. But when study of God's word takes place within a life of faith and for the purpose of fostering faith, I believe that it lacks nothing of the reality of prayer itself. 679 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 Thinking Prayer in Groups Not all group prayer needs to be self-revelatory and strongly interpersonal in its character. The common recitation of the Office or prayer of the Church is a good example of communal thinking prayer. Such prayer is characterized by clear structure, orderly procedure, and the absence of strong emotions. While it would be untrue to say that affectivity is absent, what prevails is a sense of meaning and purpose. Especially when such prayer includes reading a passage from Scripture or from some other source, the mind's desire for meaning is being fed. Spiritual reading, which is another form of thinking prayer for individuals which might have been mentioned, can also take place within a group united in faith. Thinking in Liturgical Prayer Liturgical celebration, especially when it occurs in larger assemblies of people, takes on a societal or public character. The very term liturgy conveys this, of course. Inasmuch as the movement from the private to the public in all dimensions of our life involves a significant shift of behavioral attitudes, it brings to the fore the thinking side of our personality. As we begin to relate to people outside the circle of intimacy, it becomes necessary to create conven-tions, etiquettes, structures, which provide us with supports and safeguards as we relate to larger and more anonymous gatherings of people. It is for such reasons that our liturgical celebrations contain a good deal of structure and ritual gesture, and tend to be less highly personal than informal prayer in small groups. More of the thinking side of our humanity needs to be engaged when we celebrate the Eucharist and other ceremonies on a large scale. Similarly to what was said previously about sensing prayer in public worship, I think that we can be helped to understand both the tensions and the failures which have characterized our experience of liturgical worship during the past few decades if we bring to bear on them an understanding of personality types. At the risk of being simplistic one might say that the Tridentine liturgy had become ossified and institutionalistic in its absolutizing of the thinking mode of public worship. This made it understandable that, in the swing of the pendulum in recent decades, we experienced some loss of the basic sense of structure, decorum, and ritual which needs to preside over our public prayer. Some (not all) of the negative reactions to the kiss of peace probably stem from an uneasiness lest the distinction of private and public worship be overlooked. The present juncture, I would say, is a time when we need to recapture, without returning to rigorism and institutionalism, the rich energies of a thinking kind contained in our sacramental and liturgical traditions. We will pray much better in public if we prize this aspect of our .humanity and of our Christian prayer. Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer Further Considerations Up to now this article has offered principally a correlation of forms of prayer, chiefly individual but also interpersonal and societal, with the four functions of the Jungian personality types. As has already been said, we should be wary of too easy identification of any of the sixteen types with one or other preferred way of praying. It is not one's type alone but a variety of factors which affect our attractions in prayer. Two of these factors will now be discussed briefly. They concern 1) prayer as an exercise of leisure; 2) prayer in the stages of human development. Prayer and Leisure One plausible theory which one hears voiced in Jungian circles would have it that, when we turn from the areas of work and profession to the exercise of leisure, there is a spontaneous inclination in the psyche to move from a more preferred to a less preferred side of our personality. In terms of the functions this would mean, for example, that a person whose work or ministry calls for a great deal of extraverted intuiting--being with people in situations which call for a good deal of creative imagination--will spontaneously seek relaxation after labor by some quiet exercise of sensing: baking a cake with careful attention to measurements, or working at one's stamp collection, or hooking a rug according to a given pattern. Similarly, someone whose work is highly analytical and impersonal, let us say in dealing with a computer, might want to relax by sharing a Tchaikovsky concert or a TV sitcom with a few friends. Such a suggestion makes a good deal of sense, especially in view of the natural mechanisms of compensation which seem to be built into our psychic life. If one then adds the similarly plausible suggestion that prayer is or ought to be an exercise of leisure, then we would appear to have a useful criterion for evaluating our forms of prayer, and for suggesting new approaches to prayer, particularly when we seem to be getting nowhere. In such a view, we might profitably ask ourselves from time to time whether our behavior in prayer does not tend to be too much a compulsive continuation of the kind of behavior which we prefer in our work or ministry. And we might, if such is the case, deliberately seek ways of praying which helped to disengage us from such compulsive patterns. Someone whose primary gift, for example, is introverted intuiting, and who spends a good deal of time in the course of the day exercising that gift, might deliberately choose some extraverted sensing forms of prayer, for example, praying the rosary with simple attention to the words, the touch of the beads, and so forth. Or someone whose ministry makes heavy emotional demands---caring for the senile or the retarded, or counselling disturbed people, for example--might find some interior exercise of thinking prayer to be balancing and eventually attractive. One small suggestion regarding this experiencing of leisu're in prayer. It should take place, like all prayer, not by violence but by attrai:tion. It might well be that, though one appreciates the value of shifting gears when one 674 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 approaches prayer, it is not so easy to disengage from one's favored behavior. One might have to make an entry through the preferred function, especially an auxiliary function, before learning to exercise a less preferred function, especially the inferior function, in prayer. This use of the auxiliary function to wean us away from too exclusive a reliance on the dominant function is part of a Jungian strategy of individuation. It would seem to be applicable to strategies in prayer. For example, if thinking is my dominant function and I exercise it abundantly in my work, I may find myself attached to it even when I come to prayer. Instead of directly trying to rouse myself to feeling prayer, I might begin by letting my auxiliary sensing direct my gaze to particular objects, interior or exterior, which in turn and in due time may stir my heart to affective prayer. The philosophy of non-violence has an important area of application in prayer. Prayer and Development Numerous are the theories which, in the present century, have sought to plot the course of human development, in its cognitive, affective, social and ethical aspects. The well-known names of Piaget, Maslow, Erikson, Fowler, and others have provided rich insights into the various facets of growth. One characteristic of a Jungian perspective on development is that, in the light of the diversity of personality types, it will be wary of imposing a monOlithic pattern on the wide variety of human preferences. When prayer is viewed in this light, there are some salutary cautions and perhaps some qualifications of long-standing assumptions .about progress in prayer. Dr. W. Harold Grant has, for some years, been investigating the hypothesis of our ~pe.riods of differentiated human development, starting at age six and ending at fifty, with major switching points taking place at twelve, twenty, and thirty-five. In each of the four periods, according to the hypothesis, the person would be developing one of the four functions: the dominant in childhood, the auxiliary in adolescence, the third function in early adulthood, and, from the age of thirty-five on, the inferior function. The hypothesis includes also an alternation of introversion and extraversion in the successive periods. Prior to age six and subsequent to age fifty development would be taking place more randomly, and not selectively, as in the four periods between six and fifty. If one accepts this as a plausible hypothesis, some implications for forms of prayer at the differe.nt stages of life would seem to be present. First, one would be open to the possibility that the spontaneous employ of sense, imagination, reason, and affection in prayer may not be uniform for all persons or types. Any such prevailing assumption that growth in prayer takes place first by the use of reason and imagination and then, in a darknight experience, by their cessation, might have to yield to a view which acknowledges more diversity in the way in which the attachment/detachment phenomenon takes place in different types of personalities. Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer / 675 Secondly, the hypothesis may help to throw light on crisis periods in people's prayer lives, by suggesting that the emergence of a new function-- especially of the inferior function about the age of thirty-fiv~e--may be signaled through the decline or collapse of previously fruitful ways of praying. It might also suggest that the person involved in such a crisis might do well to explore some alternative ways of praying, ways which would be in keeping with whatever function was seeking to find its place in consciousness. Let us think, for example, of persons in whom feeling is dominant, experiencing something of a crisis in prayer around mid-life. They might do well, with the help of a. director, to exercise their thinking side in prayer, for example, by keeping a journal in which reflection on the meaning of what they are experiencing, or meditation on the meaning of some scriptural passages, was cultivated. It should be obvious that these two factors, touching the question of leisure and the question of diversity in human development, do not exhaust the sources which make for different experiences in prayer. Factors stemming from each person's unique personal history will be at least as important in deciding what course we wish to chart in prayer. And ultimately, as has already been said, it is the attraction of the Spirit of God at every juncture of life which is the primary determinant of how we choose to pray. Conclusion But if it all comes down at last to attraction, why bother consulting the Jungian types for help in praying? For two principal reasons. First, such a consultation will make us wary of being misled by stereotypes of prayer and of progress in prayer, and particularly of the monolithic character of many descriptions of growth in prayer, even among the great classics. And secondly, when persons are in a time of crisis or barrenness in prayer, they may be helped in dealing with the situation if they have had some practice in a variety of ways of praying, and if they realize the affinity between these various ways and the different functions within the Jungian personality types. With the reservations we have indicated in this article, acquaintance with one's type through the MBTI can help foster better praying. NOTES ~See, for example, Morton Kelsey, The Other Side of Silence, (New York: Paulist, 1976); idem, Transcend: A Guide to the Spiritual Quest, (New York: Crossroad, 1981); John Sanford, Healing and Wholeness, (New York: Paulist, 1977); idem, The Invisible Partners, New York: Paulist, 1980); Wallace B. Clift, Jung and Christianity: The Challenge of Reconcilation, (New York: Crossroad, 1982); John Welch, Spiritual t~'lgrims: Carl Jung and Teresa of Avila, (New York: Paulist, 1982); Robert Doran, "Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality," P~vtEw FOr RELtatot/s 38 (1979), pp. 497-510; 742-52; 857-66. 2See Isabel Briggs Myers, Gifts Differing, (Palo Alto: Consulting Psychologists Press, 1980). 676 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 3See Christopher Bryant, Heart in Pilgrimage: Christian Guidelines for the Human Journey, (New York: Seabury, 1980), pp. 182-195; Robert Repicky, "Jungian Typology and Christian Spirituality," REVtEW FOR REMGtOVS, 40 (1981) pp. 422-435. 4See W. Harold Grant, Mary Magdala Thompson, Thomas E. Clarke, From Image to likeness: A Jungian Path in the Gospel Journey, (New York: Paulist, 1983). SAPT publishes a newsletter, MBTI News, for its membership, and is based at 414 S.W. 7th Terrace, Gainesville, FL 32601. 6See Anthony de Mello, Sadhana: A Way to God, (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1979). 7See Thomas E. Clarke, "Toward Wholeness in Prayer," in: William R. Callahan & Francine Cardman, 7he Wind ls Rising: Prayer Ways for Active People (Hyattsville, MD: Quixote Center, 1978), pp. 18-20. sSee Thomas Keating, M. Basil Pennington, Thomas E. Clarke, Finding Grace at the Center, (Still River, MA: St. Bede Publications, 1978). 9De Mello, p. 13. The Time for Figs There twinges in my heart A pity for that fig tree--barren-- Caught up within the eyes of Christ, Cursed by his lips. There echo in my soul Defenses for the tree's unburdened limbs Held light against the sky-- Perhaps because it's I who am the fig tree, content to wait the seasons out. But now is the time for figs-- Season or not-- IX, e looked for the sun too long, Yearned for the rain to come and comfort me, The earth to gather and to nourish. It is the time for figs-- The hungry and the weak pass by And the blossoms are an empty, bitter food. It is the time for bearing. Oh, Jesus. look again on me And cause in me such heaviness of fruit That it shall fall unreached for round your foot. The season is ripe: It is the time for figs. Sister Ann Maureen. I.H.M. 11201 Academy Road Philadelphia, PA 19154 Prayer of the Paschal Mystery: Sorrow in the Risen Lord's Company David Hassel, S.J. In this article Father Hassel continues to explore the subject of Radical Prayer (also the title of his recent book). His last article for us, "The Prayer of Daily Decisioning: Hungering for God's Will," appeared in the issue of May/June, 1983. He continues to live and teach at Loyola University, where he may be addressed: Jesuit Community; Loyola University of Chicago; 6525 North Sheridan Road; Chicago, 1L 60626. Prayer, taken radically, is a deep attitude towards life, a basic way of living in the world with God and with others. Thus prayer of reminiscence is characterized by an attitude of thankfulness; prayer of Christ's memories (Gospel prayer), by a deep wanting to companion Christ; prayer of listening-waiting., by a strong trusting in God's graciousness; prayer of contemplation; by an aCtitude of welcome to God and his worldJ How, then, would one characterize the attitude behind the life and prayer of the Paschal Mys~ery.'~ . One of the presumed grand masters of the spiritual life, Ignatius Loyola, 3 . challenges, even shocks, us when he describes the life of the Paschal Mystery and thereby implies the type of prayerful attitude of humility which, he thinks, animates this life: The most perfect kind of humility [its third stage] consists in this . Whenever the praise and glory of the Divine Majesty would be equally served, in order to imitate and be in reality more like Christ our Lord, I desire and choose poverty with Christ poor, rather than riches; insults with Christ loaded with them, rather than honors; I desire to be accounted as worthless and a fool for Christ, rather than to be esteemed as wise and prudent in this world. So Christ was treated before me.3 At first sight, this third stage of humility, i.e., this prayerful attitude of Paschal- Mystery life, appears to be incredibly negative. It is seemingly a rejection of contemporary incarnation theology which so strongly emphasizes creativity and the resurrection. In Ignatius' description of the Paschal-Mystery life, the 677 6711 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 crucified Christ seems alone to occupy one's vision, and the good Christian appears to ambition nothing more than poverty, ignominy, and degradation. In such a pessimistic, if not inhumane, way of life and prayer, Christ's resurrection and the Christian's consequent joyful creativity would seem to have little place. The shock increases when it dawns on the person praying within the Spiritual Exercises that Ignatius considered this third stage of humility the very heart of the Gospels for all Christians and not simply the storm center of life for his Jesuit sons.4 Could, then, this third stage be accurately describing the prayerful attitude and life of the Paschal Mystery? Is it possible that, in grappling with Ignatius' description, we could come to understand more satisfactorily this mystery of Christ's death and resurrection occurring within us? If such wrestling is to be worth our time, then our first effort should be to deal with those initial distracting fears and angers surfacing against the challenge of this third stage of humility. Having thus somewhat freed our hearts and minds, we could then more fairly check out whether or not Ignatius' third stage of humility expresses truly, though only partially, the Paschal Mystery of the Gospels. If it should do so, then we are ready to catch, within our experience, the four scriptural pulse-beats which may define our attitudinal prayer of the Paschal Mystery. Following this, we could seek out the signs of 'he Paschal Mystery felt within our prayer experience and later describe some imple ways of deepening this prayer within us. Here it is notable how Paschal- Mystery prayer may well be a basic attitude towards all of life even amid acute suffering. Could it possibly turn out to be a strengthening joy (the risen Christ himself?.) within our demanding apostolic endeavors? Fears Diverting Us from Praying the Third Stage of Humility On first hearing Ignatius' third stage of humility proposed, most of us experience deep fears. These quickly smother any attempts at considering, luch more praying over, this terrible challenge to our sensibility and to our .ationality. Consequently, before even trying to understand the third stage of aumility as an expression of the Paschal-Mystery life, we must face these powerful fears.5 One initial fear is that my educated skills will be lost in the muddle of becoming poor with Christ poor. My education is a richness not appreciated by the uneducated poor and not supportable in impoverished circumstances. Ask the U.S.-educated Filipino physician or Indian technician returned to his native city if this is not the case. This means that I will rarely get the time or have the equipment to pursue my art or music or sociology or psychology or computer mathematics or history or engineering~ My talents will lie dormant and later atrophied; my personality will be impoverished and made dull; my angry frustration, like a corrosive agent, will burn me out. Indeed, identification with the poor Christ would eventually strip away all prize possessions like my car; stereophonic tape and recording deck, modish Prayer of the Paschal Mystery / 679 clothes, well-stocked refrigerator, the social rounds with close friends, regular opportunities for vacations, long-distance telephone calls, comfortable bank-account, and a few other precious items. For, when one identifies with the poor in their work, neighborhood, and life-style, one inevitably assumes their ways no matter how skilled, talented or comfortably endowed one may be. A second source of fear is the call to identify with Christ dishonored. If my~ skills, talents and perquisites are enfeebled, I will certainly become less effective' in my work, perhaps, too, in my human relationships. Where once before I was respected for my skillful intelligence, artistic finesse, and guaranteed delivery of promised products; now; I am seen as the bumbler. This, in turn, could well involve a distancing from my friends, not simply because I no longer look good to them but more because our times together will be fewer, our interests different, and our cultural neighborhoods far apart. In other words, like Christ's poor, I will be gradually reduced to being a marginal person whose voice is no longer heard in the councils of the great or small. I will be lost in the masses. This last statement reveals the root-source of all ~my fears concerning the third stage of humility: self-annihilation. The fear of death, the most powerful dread of my life, repels me from the embrace of the third stage. I do not want to be the grain of wheat dying to produce a further harvest. I do not want to lose control of my life, my developing personality, my destiny. The third stage seems to demand a total trust--something which I am willing to award only to myself. Living the third stage of humility appears to be slow suicide. Historical examples abound to let me know that my fears are well grounded. Damien of Molakai identified only too well with his sick lepers and was rewarded with government disdain. Many founders of religious orders have discovered themselves made marginal within their own communities when they identified too fully with the maligned Christ; for example, Francis of Assisi, Madeline Sophie Barat, Cornelia Connelly, and Guillaume Chami-nade. 6 Teilhard de Chardin, a man all his life hidden in Christ, was considered a dangerous fool by the superorthodox Christians and a silly fool by those appreciative of his writings and paleontological competence but not compre-hending of his obedience to Church authorities.7 More recently in El Salvador, Archbishop Romero and Rutilio Grande were hated, disparaged, and then assassinated in the same way as their despised campesino friends with whom they identified,s In response to these fears stimulated by the third stage of humility, one may say that those living this stage can die to one career and then rise to a new one far more fruitful for the Church. Note how Mother Teresa of Calcutta moved out of the classroom and her congregation to dedicate her life to those literally dying in the streets of Calcutta and to the founding of a new worldwide congregation. One can also point out that those living the third stage develop new talents and skills to their own great surprise as when one priest of my acquaintance, being ordered under obedience to do spiritual 6111} / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 direction with some difficult personalities, discovered a new ability for counseling and a fresh realism of judgment which made him much more effective in classroom and pulpit, his first interest. As a third instance of victory coming out of defeat, notice how voices, suppressed or muffled with dishonor before the Second Vatican Council, now echo more strongly than ever within and outside the Church. I speak of Yves Congar, Karl Rahner, Henri de Lubac, and John Courtney Murray. Their sufferings, undergone in silent loyalty to the Church, have validated their insights and given new life to the Church. Just as the missionary letters of that long-dead "failure," Francis Xavier, populated the sixteenth-century novitiates and lured thousands to the missions; so, the lives of these contemporary heroes for Christ raise hope and ambition in countless Christians to serve the Church and her anawim (the marginal and powerless people). The above responses to fears of the third stage are unfortunately only slight glimpses into that Paschal-Mystery attitude which Ignatius' third stage of humility attempts to express. Their inadequacy is painful. Yet they indicate how greatly faith and trust enter into the living of the Paschal Mystery. This does demand of us a remarkable willingness to entrust our priceless skills, talents, possessions, reputation, friends, and hopes into the hands of the poor, dishonored, and unappreciated Christ. The great temptation is to refuse this ultimate trust lest one lose all comfort, much respect from others, and a satisfying career, when actually this "death" through trust may be the final and fullest growth of person in the Christian. The Third Stage of Humility and the Paschal Mystery If living the third stage of humility should turn out to be a deep living of the Paschal Mystery and therefore to be at the heart of the Gospel, then evidently one could never totally comprehend this third stage any more than one could exhaustively understand the Paschal Mystery. But at least one can attempt to remove some of the blinding misunderstandings of the third stage which keep people from appreciating and from living the Paschal Mystery. In other words, the best one can do here is to remove exterior obstacles for the one wishing to pray and to live the third stage of humility. Then, as this person enters into the Paschal Mystery, his or her life will be illumined and directed by a new wisdom--a wisdom which slowly dawns within any person attempting to identify more and more with Christ poor and dishonored. First of all, a frequent charge against the third stage of humility is that it is anti-creationist. This would be true if its expression of the heart of the Gospels did not fit well the first two chapters of Genesis, the first four chapters of the Letter to the Ephesians, and the first chapter of the Letter to the Colossians, where man and woman are to complete God's creation by mastering and developing it. Therefore, the third stage, if it be validly Christian, must mean that identification with Christ poor and dishonored is a creative act. It cannot be, even implicitly, a depreciation or suppression of those human skills, talents, Prayer of the Paschal Mystery / 611"1 and opportunities which make woman, man, and the universe more beautiful and more joyful. Otherwise the third stage as an attempted expression of the Paschal Mystery is inhumane and is to be regarded as unchristian. Consequently, it is vicious to interpret the third stage as insisting that we ask for and directly seek out sickness, business failure, loss of friendship, defeat, the misery of poverty, and the humiliation of dishonor in order to become closer to Christ. This would be to make the third stage a depraved description of the Paschal Life--as though it were requiring that we pursue evil in order to be more perfect Christians. Such a. style of life would not only destroy its pursuants but seriously injure all the people whom the pursuants are trying to serve and companion. Such spiritual athleticism based on a totally negative theology of the cross exemplifies more a gross pride than a Christlike humility. Man has been given a free and inventive nature so that he can cooperate with a free and inventive God to make the world more beautifully humane. In this way, man and woman attain full manhood and womanhood, that is, they become more like the risen Christ. Indeed, the Lord has promised his close followers that they will receive a hundredfold "houses, brothers, sisters, mothers, children, and land--not without persecutions--now in this present time and, in the world to come, eternal life" (Mk 10:29-30; Mt 19:27-30; Lk 18:31-33- Jerusalem Bible). It is precisely those living the third stage who are more eligible, amid persecutions, for this hundredfold of creative joy based on interpersonal relationships. Secondly, this hundredfold is guaranteed by the Christ of today, the risen Christ, who is the present Lord of the universe and the future culmination of all history. Nevertheless this Christ, under the Father, has freely chosen, even preferred, for himself and for his followers, to win his kingdom through suffering as well as joy, through defeat as well as victory. For the risen Christ is also the Christ of the passion and death; he carries the wounds in his risen body. But because he is the resurrected, immortal Lord, no Christian's suffering or defeat will be without the joy of his strengthening presence. For this rea.son, underneath the sufferings described in the third stage of humility, there must be a strong and perduring joy, namely the strength by which the suffering Christian perdures without bitterness. This is, of course, the Paschal Mystery working itself out, as simultaneous crucifixion and resurrection, in the life of every true Christian. More specifically, this joy would be union with Christ and oneness with his Church. There is a third reason for suspecting that a joyful creativity strengthens the living of the third stage: God's every action in the universe is meant to make all the human participants more human. After all, God's glory, as extrinsic to his own being, is precisely and more fully the wholesomeness of humankind, the fuller womanhood and manhood of each person. The paradox occurs when the Christian is asked to trust that a particular suffering or sorrow will not end in a diminishment, but rather in an enhancing of his or her person, so long as 6112 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 the pain is borne trustingly in and with Christ suffering. To look back twenty. years and to reflect with Christ upon a particular calamity is, often enough, to discover in oneself an important growth-period. But even if an objector to the third stage of humility were to agree that underlying this state would be a strengthening joy and peace, he could still accuse the third stage of encouraging individualism, simply a "me and Jesus suffering" type of piety. This forces us to clarify what is meant when the third stage urges us "to choose poverty with Christ poor, rather than riches; insults with Christ loaded with them, rather than honors." The question is: "Who is this Christ?" Is he only the historical Christ of Nazareth or is he also the mystical Christ which is the Church and which is unified by the one presence of the risen historical Christ? Because the Ignatian Exercises are aimed at enabling the retreatant to make decisions which will expand the kingdom of Christ according to Christ's standard, the Christ of the third stage must be also the Mystical Christ, the Church. Thus, the third stage of humility is basically other-centered. It makes little sense unless it represents a deeper loyalty to the historical risen Christ and to his people. Its inner dynamic is, then, to put the retreatant in contact with the poor, the abandoned, the lonely, the twisted, the sick, the unhappy of Matthew's famous last-judgment scene (25:31-46): "whatever you did to the least of these brothers of mine, you did to me." The third stage of humility, then, as an expression of the Paschal Mystery has a powerful apostolic thrust because it not only rises out of the deepest personal loyalty to the risen historical Christ of Nazareth but reaches out in wholehearted social loyalty to the Mystical Christ, the Church. Naturally, if the Christian lives deeply with these poor and dishonored of Christ, he will become marked with their characteristics. Let a priest or layman work closely with the homosexual community and he will be labeled a homosexual and treated accordingly. Let a laywoman or a nun work in a woman's rights organization and she will be labeled fanatic, abortion-minded, man-hating. The psychiatrist spending long hours with the mentally disturbed risks not only his own mental health but also the stigma of being considered "a mere shrink." It is literally dangerous to live the third stage and to identify with Christ's poor and dishonored. Thus this basic attitude of the third stage is no mere mental fiction--for example, a mental trick to be used for giving one balance against the inclina-tions of Original Sin towards the easier way of life. It is, on the contrary, a real preference to be with Christ's suffering people, a definite mind-set and heart-set which enable the Christian to do pioneer work wherever people are hurting most from neglect and weakness. Such an attitude also enables the sick person to accept his or her illness positively as an opportunity for knowing Christ better and for contributing in some hidden way to the good of Christ's people. It enables, too, the South American labor-organizer to risk his life in order to rescue his people from economic slavery and psychological degradation. Prayer of the Paschal Mystery / 15113 All this takes for granted that suffering and sorrow can be creative moments in the Christian's life. Not that suffering and sorrow of themselves are creative; they are destructive in themselves--unless good is drawn out of their evil. But the person living the third stage of humility as an expression of the Paschal Mystery is convinced in faith that God the Father intends to draw good out of the evils spawned by personal sin and by original sin. Further, he is sure that Christ the Son has preferred to achieve the liberation of man through suffering, and that the Holy Spirit prefers to achieve the unification of the Church and of mankind through human historical sufferings as he completes the universe. This is the central mystery of life, that God would want the world to reach its destiny through suffering and defeat as much as through joy and victorious accomplishment. Somehow, t.hrough suffering and sorrow, a depth of wisdom, patience and loyalty is reached, which in this present world is not available to those enjoying the easier life. Under the illumination of.Christ's resurrected life, this vital mystery of earthly suffering and joy is seen to be the Paschal Mystery of resurrection amid death, i.e., of creative power amid galling limitations and sharp agonies. This is why one can speak of creative suffering when dealing with the third stage of humility. In contrast to the stifling self-pity which arises in one who sees no reason for personal suffering except bad luck, the person of the third stage is aware that God does not waste a moment of human suffering. Instead, every twinge of pain, every throb of sorrow, every burning moment of fair and unfair humiliation, every blasted hope, can somehow, by God's providence, contribute to the final cooperative triumph of humanity and God: that Great Community of the Great Today and Tomorrow called the Communion of Saints. Man, however, must allow his sufferings and sorrows to become creative by identifying them with the risen Christ's passion and death. In this way a person wastes nothing. All his or her skills, talents, capacity to love, and opportunities to build a better world are focused positively on others and are not paralyzed by bitter self-pity. Indeed, this pers

Issue 37.3 of the Review for Religious, 1978. ; Obedience in the Contemporary World Impassioned Presence: Religious Life and Leisure Cosmic Dimensions of the Eucharist Volume 37 ~ May 1978 : ' ~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1978 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. BOX 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May, 1978 Volume 37 Number 3 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review. should be sent to REWEW FOa I~L~OtJS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Ministry Rooted in the Vows Mary T. Rattigan, C.S.J. Sister Mary is presently director of the formation program in her province. She also teaches theology at St. John's University in Queens, NY. She resides at 39 Gifford Ave.; Jersey City, NJ 07304. Simply stated, ministry refers to the service rendered in the name of Jesus Christ. Such service is a faith-response to our being sent to continue the mission of Jesus in the world. At the moment, religious are experiencing new vistas of ministry being opened up to them. They also perceive their call to service as stemming directly from the acknowledgment and de-velopment of their gifts and talents. Current involvement in ministry, then, calls for an increased ability to discern individual gifts for service and an appreciation of emerging diversity in form and style. We are asked to keep in mind St. Paul's injunction: "There are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord, working in all sorts of different ways in different people . The particular way in which the.Spirit is given to each person is for a good purpose" (I Co 12:5-7). Regardless of its form, ministry can be broadly defined as those efforts directed to bringing the love and power of God to fruition in the world. Such efforts to build up the kingdom of God ultimately spring from a consciousness of the meaning of Christian mission. Hence, an understanding of ministry, which is normally the way mission is expressed, must be sought in the theology of mission. In the first place, mission theology pinpoints the Church's need to become a perfect sign of Christ in the world. It reminds us, moreover, that the whole Church, everywhere and in all its members, ismissionary. To be Christian and to be Church means to be "chosen" for service, to carry on the work of Christ in the world. It also places a heavy emphasis on the fact that although a 321 322 I Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 plurality of ministries exists, there is only one mission--the mission of the risen Jesus. This single mission; which has been entrusted to the members of his Church, is said to incorporate three elements. First, we share in this mission when we announce the new life received in Christ which makes the love and power of God available here and now. Second, acceptance of this mission demands that our life-style give credibility to this announcement. This requires a witness to the process of being personally transformed by the love and power of God. Third, we are invited to extend God's love and power by our actions so that the kingdom may be realized to a greater extent in history. From the the~ology of mission, then, it is possible to delineate the essential features of a life of service. And, to the extent a sense of mission becomes a personal reality for us, we can experience a reason for being "sent" and an urgency to respond to the kingdom-vision. Both a growing consciousness of the meaning of mission and the de-velopment of multiple forms of ministry are demanding that a second look be given to the evangelical vows. These factors, among others, are forcing religious to face the question of how the vows commit them to ministry. The need to understand the vowed life in relation to ministry is especially felt by those actively engaged in combating social injustice. The call to work for justice, equality and peace is demanding an articulation of the vows which is consonant with the social mission of the Church. By the same token, religious are wondering whether new aspects of the vows might not be emerging as they seek to confront the issues of justice, peace and equality. In either case, an understanding of the vowed life in the context of mission and ministry is deemed extremely important at this point of time. In fact,. a more adequate theology of religious life cannot be expected until an examination of the vows in .relation to ministry is undertaken. Apostolic religious have a heed to deepen their insights into the vows as a renewal of their baptismal commitment to service, to conceive of themselves as a community with a "commission" that shares the Church's mission re-sponsibility, and to think of religious profession as the public acceptance of ¯ this mandate to mission. The reflections which follow are intended to in-crease our understanding of the role of the vows in ministry, whether that ministry occurs within the Christian community itself or in society at large. Another Look at the Vows Religious have traditionally expressed their response to the call of dis-cipleship through the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. Until Vatican II, a certain clarity of understanding and expectation accompanied the evangelical life. But all too often in the past, the expression of the vows was equated with certain kinds of behavior, such as using material goods, abstaining from genital sexuality, and listening to the superior. With the renewal of religious life, however, the interpretation of the vows began to shift. Developments in theology, psychology and the social sciences forced Ministry Rooted in the Vows / 323 traditional notions of the vows to be placed under severe scrutiny. For more than a decade now, serious questioning and confusion have surfaced over the relevance of the vowed life to contemporary society. The ambiguity which surrounds the present living of the vowed life is multifaceted. Un-certainty has emerged as to whether the vows themselves constitute one's religious consecration. Objection has been voiced over the traditional vocabulary still employed for the vows. Doubt has also arisen regarding their very number, with the attendant suggestion that a single, more com-prehensive term be used to designate the commitment to religious life. The complexity of the situation is brought to even sharper focus when divergent interpretations are includedin the picture. Some perspective can be gained, however, when we recall that the internal thrust of the early years of renewal, with its intensely personalistic and communal concerns, perme-ated most attempts to rethink the vows. In retrospect we can appreciate the emphasis which had to be placed on calling forth individual religious to fuller personhood and responsibility. We also realize that community life demanded that interpersonal relationships be fostered and that new struc-tures of authority and government be adopted. But religious have now reached the point of desiring that their vows be perceived as integrally related to mission, as giving expression to their call to minister in Jesus' name. While much study remains to be done on the relation of vowsto the personal and communal aspects of our life, consideration must presently be given to the strongly sensed need to relate the vows more concretely to the apostolic or service dimension of religious life. The desire to seek ways of living the vows which will best express the call to mission can be recognized from the type of question being asked: What contribution can the vows make toward a more effective realization of the mission of Jesus in the world today? In what way do the vows enable religious to be effective ministers of the gospel, particularly in the area of social justice? It may be asked, why the current trend to relate the vows to mini~stry? Why do religious feel challenged to examine the vows as a source from which true ministry can flow? It i.s significant, I believe, that the renewed interest in the vows occurs at a time when religious have already given considerable attention to the spiritual resources needed for ministry. They have opted, for the most part, for a more intense personal spirituality. In an effort to reaffirm the importance of a deep prayer life, they are actively pursuing the charismatic movement, directed retreats, continued spiritual direction, and so forth. In line with this interest in spirituality, attention now focuses on the vows as spiritual resources which can be brought to bear on a life of service. As the thirst for spirituality extends itself to the vows, it represents a search for both a depth-dimension to life and a greater sense of integration. This depth-dimension can be characterized as a rootedness or centeredness which will serve to ground our apostolic ser-vice. The vows hold out the promise ofeffecting a sense of rootedness since 324 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 they encapsule basic orientations arid values which, if explicated and claimed as one's own, can provide roots o.r centering. Besides seeking deeper roots for service, religious are taking a fresh look at the vows out of a need to experience a greater degree of integration. They are led to wonder in what sense the vows can be considered an integrative force. Faced with a frequent sense of disharmony and discrepancy in ministry, they are led to inquire about the ability of the vows to "make whole." In other words, can the vows act as a unifier between the vision proposed by ministry and the reality actually achieved? In a world where it is ex-ceedingly difficult to experience any synthesis or integration, religious feel that the vowed life deserves to be reappraised for its integrating impact on their lives. Assumed in the quest for integration, however, is the underlying assumption that the vows cannot be viewed as external to service. Any authentic living of the vows will consist of ministering to the needs of others, especially those who are victims of injustice and oppression. We turn now to consider the spiritual resources offered by the vows when ministry is conceived as the presence of God's love and power in the world. Ministry as Presence One way to look at ministry is to regard it as presence. As the word is used here, presence is synonymous with the term sacrament taken in its broadest meaning. As an expression of mission, the object of ministry is to be a sign of God's transforming love and power. One who ministers is seen to be a symbol through which the God-life received in Jesus is embodied. The form which this kind of ministry takes is that of leading others to experience the divine element in their own lives and of bringing this to fuller expression. Ministry as sacramental, then, is concerned with fostering a response to the transforming love and power of God at work in the world. As a participation in the mission of Jesus, ministry partakes of the very mystery which marked the mission and ministry of Jesus himself. In this regard, St. John's gospel offers a clarification of the nature of this mission, and consequently, contributes towards an understanding of ministry as presence. The chief work of Jesus, as presented by the fourth evangelist, lies essentially in revealing the Father's love and power: "To have seen me is to have seen the Father" (Jn 14:9). The concept of ministry espoused here centers on Jesus being the presence of God in the world. Important for us, however, is the promise which accompanies this revelation for those who believe: ". to perform the same work as I do myself" (Jn 14:12). As the perfect image of the Father, Jesus gives his Spirit so that we may enjoy a similar relationship to God, and thus share his likeness of being a revelation of God in the world. Despite our limitations, we have been commissioned to be sacraments of the transforming love and power of God. This is the great mystery of ministry--a mystery which the vows help to disclose. Still further reinforcement for viewing ministry as presence is found in the fourth Ministry Rooted in the Vows / 395 gospel with the recorded statement of Jesus: ". I consecrate myself for their sakesnow, that they may be consecrated in truth" (Jn 17:19). Central to this Johannine emphasis is his notion of truth, which means to "make holy." Jesus himself is the truth, the holiness of God visibly manifested. His mission is to effect a greater possession of the truth which he is. Judged in this light, discipleship becomes a mandate to bear the message of the Father's love in our life. To be consecrated in truth, therefore, implies a process whereby the love and power of God can become enfleshed in us~a process which designates our apostolic mission: to make visible the presence of God in the world. From this perspective, ministry rests on the conviction that our life itself, which is a primary form of presence, is meant to be shared with those around us. It summons us to be vehicles of God's transforming love and power. Above all else, then, a ministry of presence asks that we witness to life in its transcendent dimension. The religious consecration of perpetual chastity, in particular, conveys a presence which elicits belief in the mystery of God's transforming love and power. This becomes possible when being unmarried for the sake of the kingdom is understood for what it actually encompasses. As St. Paul indicates, an unmarried woman "can devote herself to the Lord's affairs." His reason for extolling virginity, however, stems from the fact that she can give her "undivided attention to the Lord" (1 Co 7:32-35). All too often this passage has been interpreted solely in terms of the availability which religious possess for apostolic activity. But suggested by this Pauline directive is a relation of intimacyma relation characteristic of those who have allowed the love and power of God to come to fruition in their lives. Seen in this light, chastity commits re-ligious to deepen their own relationship to the Lord, and to undertake the task of concretizing this love in their relations with others. The goal of vowed chastity is judged to be concomitant with the witness called for in ministry--a witness to the mystery of God's transforming love and power. To remain celibate for the sake of the kingdom is itself a sign, and one which inserts religious into the very heart of mystery. It signifies a mystery not only to those we serve but it also continues to be an enigma even for those who have embraced it. The vow of chastity provides a way of saying concretely with our life something of the mystery which must be. accepted by all persons, namely, we are made to live in and for mystery, particularly its eschatological aspect--the final destiny which brings this mystery to fulfillment. Its witness might well be to offer others the opportunity to question their lives, what is the meaning of their lives, their goal. Quite simply, this becomes possible when religious cause others to wonder why. To be a catalyst for eliciting these questions requires that our life-style palpably express a personal consecration to the mystery of God's trans-forming love and power. Consequently, a ministry of presence is concerned with the values and attitudes which we embody in our relationships with 326 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 others. Granted this, the challenge facing religious is whether people around us can even glimpse the mystery of God's transforming power from the way we live. both as individuals and as communities. It must be asked, too, whether we facilitate the possibility of others arriving at a fuller sense of themselves as vessels of God's presence in the world. Since a ministry of presence centers on personal relationships, it places a high priority on the kind of.person we are rather than on any works we may perform. To what extent, then, does the vowed life enable this focus of our personhood to be reflected in our service? One instance worth noting is the way the vows help religious to go beyond the "performance principle." In a culture which tends to judge persons according to the efficiency with which they execute tasks, it is extremely difficult to maintain the primacy of personhood. Vowed chastity can foster the possibility of our being person-oriented. By refusing to be defined by our work or achievements, we can offer a chal-lenge to the pragmatic strain underlying our culture. When we identify ourselves in terms of our relationships, we should be in a better position to view others in terms of who they are rather than what they accomplish. To strike a happy balance between a life of presence and a task-oriented one is no easy achievement. In the interests of reality, the vows should at least prevent our service from being dominated by the standard of efficiency-- despite the fact that our service must indeed be efficient and competent. In connection with a work-ethic, a certain "market-orientation" can easily creep into the ministry of religious. Such marketable elements as success, relevance, prestige, and income should not form the criteria for apostolic service. Neither a choice of ministry nor a judgment regarding its effectiveness should be made on the basis of popularity, remuneration, low-risk factors, or other marketable values. In this regard, both the vows of poverty and obedience, as steps taken in faith, have a great deal to do with ministry. They offer a direction and a challenge to the choices we make and to the attitudes we espouse. The recent association of vowed poverty with work, the fact that religious are "subject to the common law of labor," serves to illustrate how a market-orientation might become operative for us. Since Vatican II, as we know, poverty has shifted from limiting the use of possessions to the consent of the superior to earning one's own living and aiding the poor with one's resources. Because of this expectation that they be self-supporting, religious might find themselves choosing an area of service based on remuneration. Also, in view of the growing elderly population in religious communities, they might feel pressured into ac-cepting a form of ministry which would contribute to the financial support of the community. Whatever the reasons, religious must at least recognize the subtle temptation posed by the exhortation to earn one's own living. Vowed obedience, which is concerned with the choices we make, demands a prayerful discernment regarding our motives for service. It asks that our choices proceed from values clearly based in the gospel. When we seek the Ministry Rooted in the Vows / 327 Spirit's direction for engagement in ministry, obedience makes it incumbent upon us to see that apostolic choices are not subjected to market values. The vowed life, then, is meant to root ministry in its transcendent and relational dimensions. And the concept of personal presence allows us to perceive the dynamic relationship which exists between ministry and the vows. While ministry refers primarily to the presence or sacramental em-bodiment of God's love and power in the world, it must also bear the marks of suffering love. To ~vitness to God's transforming presence requires that we undergo the sufferings inherent to bringing the kingdom of-God to a fuller realization. Ministry as Suffering Love Suffe.ring love is the h'allmark of Christian ministry. This kind of love demands some explanation due to the recent emphasis on personalism and fulfillment in religious life. Clarification is also needed because the word suffering is ordinarily thought in terms of pain of mind or body, or as bearing the consequences of some illness or wrongdoing. At times it even conjures up a kind of self-sacrifice typical of the past which is now seen as destructive to personal growth and holiness. As the term is used here, suffering refers to the capacity to be acted upon, to be changed or moved by another. Suffering love means that we allow persons and events to enter our life so as to shape the response we make. It implies a vulnerability which results from permitting our actions to be defined by what the°other requires. When our ministry takes its shape from the needs around us, it opens the door to true empathy and compassion in serving others. Person~il conflictl, adjustment, and denial will necessarily flow from this kind of loving, thereby contradicting a common misunderstanding that love always results in personal satisfaction. Suffering love is none other than the reverse side of self-giving love. Both aspects of love constitute the true nature of personalism. Otherwise, we have a pseudo-personalism which calls for the giving of our personal being but does not allow usto be transformed by our relations with others. For ministry, suffering love means that interdepen-denc~ and reciprocity will mark the experience of truly serving others. Those WhO minister must have the capacity both to receive and to give, the willingness to be shaped as well as to create. Suffering love can best be understood in the context of the mission of Jesus. Although we tend to equate Jesus' sufferings solely with the events surrounding the crucifixion, the gospels reveal that his sufferings resulted from the demands which love made upon him. His identification with the poor and outcasts, his contention with evil in its many forms, and his assistance to the sick and infirm are but a few examples of how Jesus allowed persons and events to elicit the kind of response needed. In a very real sense, then, his response was shaped by his ministry in that he allowed himself to be moved by the other, to take in the truth of each situation. As 328 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 a consequence, his suffering love became the sign of his vocation to es-tablish the kingdom, of his love for the Father and for all persons. The suffering involved in taking in the needs of others and responding ac-cordingly had i~ndeed the power to communicate love and to effect a new bond or communion with those to whom he ministered. Ultimately, it can be said that Jesus~ sufferings resulted from fidelity to the mission he had received. The vulnerability entailed in his being faithful exemplifies an actiye suffering rather than a patient submission to fate. In other words, Jesus suffered because of what he stood for, because of his message and deeds. For us, too, the witness entailed in ministry will be the personal vulnerability of suffering love. In this sense, the vows, particularly obe-dience, have implications for ministry. Of the three vows, obedience seems to exert little influence on our day-to-day service. Often it is relegated to community life or to situations which involve a change of ministry. It is possible, however, to view the vow of obedience from a much broader p.erspective, namely, as a participation in Jesus' vocation to suffering love. This notion finds support in The Epistle to the Hebrews where we find obedience and suffering linked together. Speaking of Jesus, the author notes: "Although he was Son, he learned to obey through suffering.'" (5:8). As the word "learned" indicates, Jesus" obedience was chara~:terized by personal growth, and this process of growth extended over his lifetime. Also connoted by growth in obedience through suffering is an active re-ception of all that his ministry entailed as well as an intensely personal struggle. As the temptations suggest, Jesus was no stranger to the human longing for control and power over his own destiny in that he wrestled with the possibility of adopting a messianic role which would effect a more "successful" ministry. The obedience of religious, like that of Jesus, consists in being faithful to our mission of service. It rests on a vision of faith which sees persons and events as indicators of the kind of response we ought to make in a given situation. To labor with Christ today requires that we undergo a similar e.xperience of suffering love, with its active reception of struggle and mis-understanding. Listening to the direction of the Spirit and enduring the t~nsions which are part and parcel of ministry are avenues which will open tis up to growth in faithful obedience. Because of the long-suffering in-volved in learning obedience, sporadic attempts will be less than adequate. Only a constant adherence to one's mission of service will suffice as a witness to this dimension of suffering love. As we engage in ministry, moreover, we can expect to deal with the temptation to dull the kingdom-yision. Perhaps one of the surest signs of participating in the mission of Jesus is that we experience a sense of being "stretched" beyond ourselves. If we are truly ministering we can expect the frustration and tension which accompanies all service, namely, the tension between the vision and the actuality, between the yet-to-be-fulfilled aspect of the kingdom and its Ministry Rooted in the Vows / 329 present degree of actualization. Because of our basic yearning for com-pletion and satisfaction, we find it difficult to live with brokenness, un-finished business, to be forever simply "on the way." At times we are tempted to adopt a "messianic complex," thereby relating to the world around us in god-like fashion. In so doing, we would seek to take things into our own hands, to manage and control their outcome, and to set up our own standards for judging the effectiveness of our actions. The vows help to remind us that we have been called to work for the extension of God's'reign of love, and that it is.God who gives the increase. Quite pointedly, suffering love brings us face-to-face with the deepest mystery of ministry, that of being servants of the kingdom. Because the ministry of suffering love requires a critical evaluation of our vulnerability and creative receptivity, the vow of poverty has an important role to play. Specifically, vowed poverty asks that we be open with respect to the form or expression which our ministry takes. It calls us out of any sense of self-sufficiency which might accompany a competency achieved. A sense of self-sufficiency in ministry can only prove to be distracting. Far too much energy can be expended in effortsto protect positions of real or imagined importance. This proclivity for being self-sufficient is most clearly evidenced in the resentment of newcomers for the threat they pose to our replace-ment. When. driven by a fear of loss, whether in status or in replacement, we begin to.operate at a low-risk level. When grasped by a sense of pos-sessiveness, we undertake only those activities which are considered safe, those which ensure prestige or eliminate competition. Vowed poverty, therefore, enjoins us to assess those sources of security which we may have erected for ourselves. It asks that subtle forms of self-worship such as success and prestige be unmasked for what they truly are. Because pos-sessiveness impedes the kind of vulnerability demanded by suffering love, religious poverty asks that we assume a posture of tentativeness with re-spect to the form which our ministry takes. Such tentativeness presupposes a willingness to let go of the security of the past in order to move into the future. In some cases, the risk involved in remaining flexible will result in a call to a new form of ministry or to a modified response in our present ministry. In any case, a radical trust and dependence upon the loving power of God is being called fourth in us as we search for the particular expression our ministry should assume. The vulnerability required~by suffering love also finds nourishment in vowed chastity. The "mystical" dimension of chast!ty, with its faith-decision to embrace the non-rational or mysterious aspect of life, exacts an acceptance of the fact that life can be neither totally controlled nor ultimately possessed. Of its very nature, vowed chastity leads to risk, to the unpredictable, and to the unknown. It beckons us to love with an openness which prevents intrusions and other forms of in-conveniences from being regarded as impingements upon our "projected plans" for service. In its "social" dimension, vowed chastity is also an 330 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 important asset for ministry. To the extent we have personally embraced a non-possessive stance towards life, we can expect to be non-threatening persons. Those in our presence should not find it necessary to draw upon their defenses, to play games or to put on false facades. By a simple and vulnerable life-style, religious can become disarming persons, those who grant others the freedom to be who they truly are. Consequently an at-mosphere can be created which maximizes the acceptance and contribution of personal gifts and talents, thus paving the road to ministry becoming a mutual venture between those who serve and those who are served. Ministry Rooted in Freedom Both views of ministry being addressed here--ministry as presence and ministry as suffering love--will necessarily engage us in the struggle to attain a greater degree of Christian freedom. And Jesus, as the paradigm of this freedom, offers us the model. When we meditate on the gospels we find that he ministered in a way that freed others, that empowered and enabled them. For example, Mary Magdalene and the Samaritan woman were en-abled to accept the seeds of new life which had come within their reach. In such cases, Jesus used his power to empower others. If we are t6 engage in a life-giving ministry, we must be freed from those obstacles which hinder this kind of service from occurring. The vowed life, understood in the sense of personal liberation, can be said to foster the freedom needed for ministry. First of all, how does the vow of poverty free us to serve in a life-giving manner? As we know, evangelical poverty does not center on either economic status or material deprivation. For apostolic religious, the vitality of one's service, with its attendant signs of peace and joy, has always been intrinsically linked to evangelical poverty. Poverty implies a freedom from ourselves (detachment) and a single-heartedness (attach-ment) for the service of God's kingdom. Stated in other words, poverty aims at a self-emptying so that we can devote everything that we are and have to others. By a voluntary limitation of possessions and other forms of self-sufficiency, a self-emptying ensues which places us in a situation of being poor, namely, of being ultimately dependent upon God's love and power. Inner freedom, which is a goal of vowed poverty, comes from placing our- trust in God rather than in our own resources. Its specific apostolic witness consists in having chosen to have less than we could .have attained. In so doing, we can demonstrate our belief that the kingdom of God is not dependent upon success in the areas of prestige, possessions or power. Vowed poverty, it is hoped, should also free religious to give a fuller response to Jesus" injunction: "You have received without paying; you must give without charge" (Mt 10:8). As we come to a greater awareness of our God-given gifts, we should be enabled to give of ourselves, in par-ticular, to share our talents, education, time and psychic energy. The freedom for ministry which vowed chastity promotes is thai of Ministry Rooted in the Vows / 331 non-possessiveness. In vowing chastity, we promise to eradicate the strong natural desire to restrict our love and concern to those claiming a priority through family or friendship. At times, we are even called to love without reciprocity. In such cases, we are asked to love those persons not in a position to respond to the love we offer, the fearful, the lonely, and thee voiceless minority in society. In a positive sense, then, vowed chastity facilitates the freedom needed to develop multirelationships, to move be-yond our personal propensity for exclusive and reciprocal relationships. Because all relationships are fragile, but specifically those demanded by vowed chastity, a freedom is needed to sustain them and keep them from deteriorating into avenues of self-aggrandizement. If our ministry is not to turn into a forum where unfulfilled personal needs are ventilated, we must be in touch with our own drives and needs. In fact, only when such personal ¯ needs as the desire to be the center of attention or the need to exercise control over the lives of others have been acknowledged, can we bracket them in order to address the needs of others. The basis for freedom in ministry also lies in vowed obedience. Often ministry is not experienced as life-giving because of our insensitivity to the gifts which others possess. All too easily we become oblivious to the po-tential of others and succumb to our own myopic view. Religious obe-dience, on the other hand, implies a freedom to experience the world around us so that persons and events can mediate the kind of response called for-in ministry. In this way, our ministry will be able to align itself more closely in both form and content to the spiritual, social and political needs of the people we serve. Vowed obedience, a pledge to carry out the mission of Jesus in a public manner, requires that our decisions be aug-mented by a faith-vision. As the gospels indicate, Jesus never did his "own thing," but sought to do his Father's will. In a special way, obedience can prevent us from acting out of impulse, mood or selfishness if we bring our choices to the authority which resides in the community for ratification. In so doing, obedience will direct the choices we make and free us to under-take with hope and courage the service which faith identifies with the will of God. Reciprocal Relation of Ministry and Vows Ministry and religious vows can be said to exert a reciprocal influence on each other. Engagement in ministry offers a challenge to the vowed life, and likewise, the vows provide for a deeper immersion into ministry. One way this reciprocal relation of vow and ministry is being experienced today is through the call to stewardship. As a matter of justice, Christians are being asked to exercise responsible stewardship regarding the resources of the world. The concept of stewardship, which is based on the idea that the world's resources do not belong absolutely to any individual, group, nation, or generation holds that resources should be viewed as gifts received and 332 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 entrusted to our use and care. As such, it calls for a sharing which stems from a consciousness of the common good and a concern that the poor can participate in these available resources. Although the notion of stewardship is directed mainly to the resources of food and energy, it can be extended to include a much broader sphere. Stewardship and its consequent sharing can be applied to all the gifts of life which have been entrusted to us, whether they be talents, time, or psychic energy. Certainly, a life-style which incorporates the right use of material resources as well as a voluntary limitation of material goods is a need in today's world. The concept of stewardship, then, can find a valuable source of support in vowed poverty. The question is: will religious place the "sharing and sparing" aspects of their life in relation to the wider social issue of justice? Put in other words, how can our sharing and sparing be increased to bring about a more sig-nificant social witness? Just as the social demands of ministry can contribute to a greater under-standing of the vowed life, so too, a lived experience of the vows can enhance our vision of ministry. Involvement in ministry, as we have noted, immerses us in the paradox of discipleship. And like any paradox, the tension involved is difficult to maintain. Although not a condition for dis-cipleship, nevertheless, the vows are gifts given to realize this end. In fact, the values symbolized in the commitment of the vows are those which are basic to ministry itself. They designate a life committed to the kingdom, and hence, call for a transformation from our old self, with its attitudes, ways of thinking and acting. When the vows are perceived in terms of the trans-formation required by discipleship, they can then be translated into a life-style consonant with the call of ministry. A truly powerful means of witnessing to God's transforming power in the world is offered to those called to love as celibates for the sake of the kingdom, to live in a simple and sharing fashion, and to be obedient to finding ways of serving others. Obedience in the Contemporary World Alan W. Jones Father Jones is an Episcopal priest, a director of the Center for Christian Spirituality; 175 9th Ave.; New York, NY 10011. His paper was delivered before a meeting of the Episcopal religious Order of the Holy Cross. l was beset with an absurdity in attempting to deal with the subject of obedience. For one thing, I am not particularly obedient, and yet I am going to attempt to tell religious what the structure of their obedience ought to be, vis-a-vis the world and the coming realities. What rescues me from these absurdities is the fact that what I am really doing is telling you religious what I want you to be for me, for the sake of the Church, for the sake of the world. Underneath my prescriptive approach there is, in reality, a cry for help. You religious, my fellow Christians, are desperately important to me. Forgive me, then, if I begin with an apparent insult used to describe religious life. "Monks are like bacteria. Bacteria live in communities, but by their increase in numbers they produce a by-product (as acid in milk) which ¯ inhibits their increase and eventually kills them. Now community living is a most economical way of living, and religion is the greatest money-spinner on earth; so monasteries get rich, and if the riches are not allowed to flow on to the poor, the community begins to stagnate and becomes, like a bacterial colony, a prey to its own by-product.''~ ICiaran O'Sabhaois, "Community in the Early Irish Church," in Cistercian Studies, Vol. X, 1975:1, p. 67. 333 334 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 Monks are like bacteria. All forms of community life have their dan-gers~ not merely the danger of becoming rich (that might seem remote today), but also the danger of becoming inward, self-regarding, and self-sustaining. I want to share with you some thoughts on modern monasticism, centering on the question of religious obedience. I will argue that Christian obedience is at the heart of Christian liberation and that obedience in the religious life is a symbol, for the sake of the Church, of the freedom we are all to enjoy as sons and daughters of God. Obedience is a Matter of Surrender: Saying "Yes!" to God To put it simply: obedience is a matter of surrender, submission, abandonment to Someone or Something. It is, first and foremost, a question of yielding, of saying "Yes!." It is, therefore, related closely to questions concerning our sense of identity (who we are) and the object of our worship (God, or the gods). That is to say, who we are will depend on the object of our surrender. When you "have finally said "Yes!" to Someone or Some-thing, then who you really are begins to emerge. So obedience is tied up with both problems of identity and objects of worship. It is also bound up with the search for intimacy, for union. Obedience is a matter of love. It is, therefore, of vital importance that we Christians be extremely sensitive and careful in matters of obedience. To say yes to the wrong things is to embark on a course of action which will infect the total life. Like the bacterial colony, the religious community in surrendering to anything less than God begins to suffocate, become paralyzed, and will eventually die. Christian obedience is right worship. Misplaced obedience is idolatry. And idolatry is the path of death. Our theme, then, is an enormously heavy and complex one which involves the very core of our being. Awareness, identity, intimacy, and worship: all these things are involved in our under-standing of obedience and will affect the way the Christian community is structured and organized. Obedience is the Means of Heightening Awareness I want to begin by looking at the structures of Christian obedience as such with no peculiar reference to those called to religious life. Christian obedience (listening to, being under, being formed by the Word) is the means of heightening Christian awareness, which in turn undermines our former sense of identity and turns who we thought we were upside down. The pattern is, obedience (i.e., listening), awareness--transformation of identity. Our mission in the world is determined by who we are and not only that, who we think we are. Our "novitiate" is the beginning at least of the undermining of our self-image and the reforging of a new identity. There are tremendous dangers because there are countless people who would like to tell us who we are. There are many, many forms, some very subtle, of psychological and spiritual tyrannies. The evil of misplaced religion in Obedience in the Contemporary Worm / 335 general is its tendency to tell people who they are and what to do. This is the tendency of those who talk about obedience. To be Obedient is to Listen to Someone: Christian obedience is to listen to the Word of God and to be formed by the Word that has been heard. This Word comes to us in the communal, convivial experience of scripture, of the eucharist, and of the community. It is a common obedience: not a private obedience. All other forms of obedience are derivative--religious obedience, obedience to the superiors, to bishops, to those in authority. There are peculiar dangers, however, for those who are committed tO a life of the discipline of prayer. Prayer continually relativizes our obedience. That is to say, prayer is always a movement towards a higher allegiance, a deeper obedience, a more intense "Yes!." As such, it puts a question mark beside all our lesser obediences. Taking as our model the religious, he is, ex professo, the person who prays and is therefore explicitly a symbol of the highest obedience. It is not that other Christians are not called to this obedience; it is that the monk symbolizes in a palpable way my obedience, the obedience evoked in all Christians. That is why I have need of the monk, why I have need of you, my brothers and sisters, to be true to your vow of obedience which is rooted in contemplation. Prayer and contemplation (how comforting they sound!), however, can seem to be subversive activities of the human spirit. They threaten our shallow allegiances, our easy "Yes!" to the merely penulti-mate things, to the things of this present age which are passing away. This is why the "no~,itiate" has to be reasonably rigorous because the monastic life brings with it the kind of "consciousness-raising" which only those who have been tested can tolerate. The pattern of monastic life, if it is not to degenerate into a sickening enslavement, is geared towards height-ened awareness: of God, of others, and of self; and heightened awareness always threatens and undermines our self-understanding. New insights challenge our present sense of identity. To be unaware of God, of others, and of ourselves is to deny any growth in identity and, in the end, such a denial turns everything sour, like the activity of bacteria in milk. To be unaware is to be unfree, to be enslaved. To be aware is to live with the mystery and terror of an ever-growing and developing identity. In critical and conflict situations th~ lesger obediences come into' play and we lapse into idolatry. The religious is peculiarly prone either to sur-render himself to the order, the community, the society, or to be trapped in the illusions of his own self-will. The .choice, for us too, seems to be slavery to the System or slavery to the unredeemed ego. We live in a time of conflict and where there is conflict, awareness is diminished. In a crisis, the pressure is there for us to caricature ourselves as well as our enemies. We may develop a strong sense of identity, but it is not based on awareness but on illusion, on a lesser obedience. This kind of caricaturing has be-deviled the movement towards genuine renewal. The labels we pin on our 336 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 brothers and sisters often reflect a low sense of awareness with a strong sense of identity.2 Obedience is a Matter of Identity Much of the discussion concerning "the state of the Church" and the monastic vows has centered on external things. We have tended to be technological rather than scientific. "It is technology--the technique of doing thingsnrather than science--the art of understanding things--that prevails.''3 One of the functions of the monastic vow of obedience vis-h-vis the modern world is to challenge us With this higher obedience, to stretch our self-understanding to the limit, to be a sign of contradiction against our impoverishment and diminishment as human beings. Monastic obedience challenges me to believe that there is more of me than I have dreamed: so much more. To do this, the monk's identity must be secure in the highest obedience. This involves a common life capable always of reforming itself, capable always of daring to raise and face ultimate questions. The monastic rule is the charter of freedom for those men and women who,for the sake of the worM, live constantly on the edge of the future. In theological terms, the monastic call is to be the people of the eschaton, for the sake of others. This requires a peculiar resilience which, in the end, cannot be a matter of personal worth or inner strength. It is a matter of faith. The monk or the nun, insofar as he or she is "successful," is an example of the triumph of grace over nature! The "bad" religious, the "bad" priest, is one who manages to combine a low sense of awareness with a strong sense of belonging. It is manifest in the classic monastic sin of acedia, "the sickness that destroyeth in the noonday." Dante talks somewhere of "the sullen, lazy smoke within the heart." The religious, the priest, in short, has missed the focus of his obedience; his awareness is diminished, and his identity, false. The highest obedience of which the contemplative life is the highest manifestation means that we give penultimate significance to everything and yet acknowledge that it is through these penultimate things that the Ultimate comes to us. This is freedom: hold to Christ and, for the rest, be totally uncommitted! We are obedient to superiors, to bishops, to the com-munity, for the.sake of the Church. These lesser obediences are the means by which, in a world of time and space, of partial insight, and distorted vision, we express our higher obedience. It is a constant rhythm of re-pentance, of metanoia, of turning, of critical self-examination. Benedict Clarkson writes, To some extent, we are all frightened to question our religious beliefs, because we are fearful that such questioning will take away from our lives all truth and meaning. Yet ~See Adam Curie's Mystics and Militants, Tavistock Publications, Ltd. (London, 1972). 31bid., p. 7. Obedience in the Contemporary World / 3:37 if our religious convictions are to become mature and intelligent, there must be, in this sphere as in all others of our lives, a critical self-examination. It is necessary for growth in faith. The more certain we are about our religious convictions, the freer we shall be to test them . The alternative to not dotibting our faith, not questioning our vocation, is immaturity. Research done by G. Allport showed that those who accepted their religion and their vocation too unrefiectingly and too uncritically tended to react in an unequally critical way to Iheir fellowmen and to political issues. When one's religion is unquestioned, one's values become institutionalized, exclusive and self-centered, and this can hinder growth in contemplation which is simple gaze.4 Obedience is a Matter of Saying "Yes!" to Others and to Ourselves The '~Yes!" we make to God in Christ makes possible our acceptance of ourselves and others, and fosters growth. Obedience, the saying of yes to the wholly Other who is God is a means of self-actualization. Maslow outlines twelve observable characteristics of people who are growing as human beings? Two of them are of particular interest here: an increase in problem centering and an increased identification with the human species. "Problem centering" is an unfortunate phrase because it suggests the kind of person who is always concerned about his problems. In fact it is meant to suggest quite the opposite. "Problem centered people" are those who have a mission, a problem outside of themselves. "They seem to see every-thing sub specie aeternitatis, in the widest frame of reference, and this imparts a certain bigness, a lack of pettiness or care for trivialities. It gives them a serenity and a freedom from worry over immediate concerns, and this makes their lives easier both for themselves and for all associated with " them.' '~ One hopes that this is a characteristic of Christian spirituality and a result springing from our common obedience. Maslow's second point is equally important: "increased identification with the human species." Obe-dience to Christ in common life liberates us and enables us freely to love our brothers and sisters. Maslow's word for this is GemeinschaftsgeJ~hl, which is this feeling for community, not only in the larger sense, but also the feeling that exists between two people. It is the sense of being at one with others. Pope Paul VI wrote, "The Church urges monks to be present to man-kind in a more profound way, namely in the heart of Christ. It expects them to share the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of this age."7 This is a marvelous rationale for the existence of religious in the moder~ world. Obedience becomes the way in which religious express this Gemein-schaftsgef~ hl. By virtue of their profession, religious orders contribute to 4"The Rule of St. Benedict and the Concept of Self-Actualization,'" in Cistercian Studies, Vol. X., 1975: 1, p. 24-25. 5Ibid., p. 24. ~lbid., p. 28. 7Quoted, ibid., p. 30. 338 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 the life of the world simply by being intensely present. The religious in his obedience to common life helps to keep human life human by the giving of hospitality. This hospitality is the ministry of presence. It is the creation of what Henri Nouwen calls "a free and friendly space.''8 The modern world is crying out for such space and you are the ones called to create it. The relentless reaffirmation of your obedience in liturgy, in order, in common life, creates this space and gives you, ahd countless others like you, the space to live and breathe. I know monks and nuns too well to idolize them, but the monastic, warts and all, points away from the success-oriented, utilitarian culture which is destroying me and tells me there is more, much more. The needs of the modern world demand more of the monk or nun, of the priest, of the Christian, than ever before. We can no longer hide our identity in community, in status, if we are to create a free and friendly space. The idea th~it the Christian life embodies a fixed tradition which is beyond question must go, along with a concept of religious obedience involving blind submission to a superior. This, however, is not the danger confronting the Church today. Nowwe need signs of a transcendent humanism. It is desperately needed and that is why I have hopes for a revival of the re-ligious life. Obedience is an Effective Sign of Self-Transcendence The ideal Christian community is modeled on self-giving obedience in the Trinity. God, ultimately, is the obedient One whose love is manifested in self-emptying. This trinitarian love which we are to embody is totally dependent and totally independent. In God there is no pathology of identity. Unlike us, he knows who he is. This trinitarian identity points to the mystery of being human. "My being me will enable you to be you; your beingyou will enable me to be me; not me without you; not you without me; perfect identity, perfect freedom.''9 This trinitarian pattern of identity revealed in self-giving is manifested in Christian obedience. It is a love which not only creates a free and friendly space, but also shapes and orders things. Obedience is a matter of order, too~for the sake of the world. Obedience is the key to the kind of co-herence and co-inherence without which it is impossible for a community or a people to survive in any meaningful way. The Christian life is a pioneer experiment in community living which provides the rest of humanity with models for the future. You religious hold out to me the promise of integrity. That is what love does. When someone really loves me, he holds out to me the promise of that integrity I feel that I have lost. Is this too much to lay on you? No, not if we remind ourselves that the key to our being and to our 8See Reaching Out, Doubleday (N.Y., 1975), p. 50. 9David Jenkins in The Passiontide Lectures (unpublished) at Lincoln Theological College, England, 1975. Obedience in the Contemporary World / 339 identity is liturgical. Worship is that which gives human life its focus, its purpose, its significance. We live by those things which offer us self-transcendence. The Christian is a sign of self-transcendence and, as such, is liturgically oriented, Worship is directly related to obedience, awareness, identity. Christian Obedience is a Matter of Right Worship The theme of worship as an obedient "Yes!" of surrender has been beautifully portrayed in Peter Shaffer's play, Equus.~° The play concerns a psychiatrist's struggle to "cure" a seventeen-year-old boy who had gouged out the eyes of six horses. The main theme is the mystery which pervades our understanding of man, a mystery that ultimately claims our obedience, demands our yes. When confronted by the boy and his particular pain and horror, the psychiatrist is confronted with his own mystery. For him a human being, to be human, has to have an object of worship, a focus of obedience. He knows himself to be a contemplative but only by way of being a voyeur. Classical Greece is his passion, but then only halfheart-edly, through glossy pictures and planned tours. He longs to be able to say to a companion: "Look! Life is only comprehensible through a thousand local gods. And not just ten old dead ones with names like Zeus--no, but living geniuses of Place and Person! And not just Greece but modern En-gland! Spirits of certain trees, certain curves of brick wall, certain chip shops, if you like, slate roofs--just as of certain frowns in people and slouches. I'd say to them--' Worship as many as you can see--and more will appear'!''1~ If we could see, life is full of wonder, is fraught with mystery. The negative side of Christian obedience, that is, saying no resolutely and often to other allegiances, provides the liberating detachment that worship and love demand. The more you contemplate, sit still, and see, the more the gods appear, present in your brothers and sisters, in glance and gesture: the gods of self-transcendence that give human life its significance. The psychiatrist's dilemma is that he can see these gods, he does make the connection, but this vision does not conform to what "normal" people call "normal." While there is a good aspect to the word "normal," it not only means the smile in a child's eyes, it 'qs also the dead stare in a million adults. It both sustains and kills~like a god. It is the Ordinary made beautiful: it is also the Average made lethal.''v' The Christian is a sign of ilbnormality, in contradiction to what the world calls normal. Christian obedience places the unnerving question mark be-side everything in the secular world. It reminds the psychiatrist that he ~°Equus: Shrivings, Athenaeum (N.Y., 1974). ~ffbid., p. 61. Vffbid., p. 63. ~140 / Review f or Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 cannot comprehend the reality of a horse, let alone the mind of a child! The horse, Equus, stares at the doctor, "Do you really imagine you can account for Me? Totally, infallibly, inevitably account for Me? . . . Poor Doctor Dysart.''13 To "cure" the boy, to make him "normal," the psychiatrist has to take away his passion, his obedience, his object of worship. To save him there has to be a lobotomy of the soul. The boy worships horses, idolatrously and even demonically, but at least he worships something, he has made the great "Yes!." Every three weeks, at midnight, he would strip naked and gallop into the night on the back of his sweating and steaming god. It is this that unnerves the doctor and makes him hesitate to take away the boy's pain. Doctor Dysart tries to explain to his friend, the magistrate: "Look. to go through life and call it Yours--your life--you first have to get your own pain. Pain that's unique to you. You can't just dip into the common bin and say 'That's enough!' . . . He's done that. All right, he's sick. He's full of misery and fear. He was dangerous, and could be again, though I doubt it. But that boy has known a passion more ferocious than I have felt any second o~" my life. And let me tell you something: I envy it. ¯. Don't you see? That's the Accusation! That's what his stare has been saying to me all this time. 'At least I galloped! When did you?' ,,14 Without worship, without obedience, human life is impoverished and diminished. The Christian may risk being a little or even totally mad in terms of this world, but his "Yes!," his surrender, is a sign that he is willing to gallop with the Holy Spirit. Even the possessed boy lying prostrate ¯ before his slave-god, the Mighty Horse, points to a passion, an obedience, a commitment we can scarcely imagine. "I sit looking at pages of centaurs trampling the soil of Argos---and outside my window he is trying to become one, in a Hampshire field! For, me, this points to the heart of Christian obedience in the modern world. The commitment of the Christian, no matter how much he fails, is an effective sign of the seriousness of the gospel, of its radical passion, its ultimacy, its finality. I need you to be--simply be--for my sake, as reminder of all those things in life which tell me that I am more than I think I am. Some may be disappointed with me for not being more specific regarding Christian obedience. To tell the truth, I simply cannot prescribe set patterns of obedience for anyone else. I am convinced, however, that once the primary allegiance is at least seen, then nurtured and developed day by day, all these other things fall into place. A loving look at God, steadily and daily, helps me to seek the good of the whole community, to "obey" as an act of love--to say "Yes!" to my brothers and sisters because you too are struggling to make the great "Yes!" to God. talbid., p. 74. l~lbid., p. 80. ~51bid., p. 81. Obedience in the Contemporary World / 341 Obedience is unavoidable. Enslavement to one god or another is in-. evitable. Like love, obedience is part of that which constitutes, forms, shapes us as human beings. Augustine says, in effect, "Love by all means, but take care what you love." I would add: You must obey, but take care what you obey. Only the gospel offers that service which is perfect freedom. The obedience of the Christian serves the wider community by wit-nessing to both the revolutionary character of Christian obedience and the provisional character of all those other things which demand our allegiance. The Christian is a trafficker in mystery. The so-called "unnatural" life of the monk invites me to dig deeper into the abyss within myself. Christian Obedience is a Movement in the Holy Spirit Two recent books, both by religious, give a positive rationale for Chris-tian obedience which to me is the most important of the three vows. Henri Nouwen does it indirectly in outlining three movements in the spiritual life.I~ The first movement is from loneliness to solitude where a suffocating loneliness is transfigured by one'~ "Yes!" into a receptive solitude. The second movement is from hostility to hospitality. Obedience again is the key to our being free enough to create a "free and friendly space" for others. The final movement is from illusion to prayer. This, in ~eality, is the hardest area of obedience. It is at this deep point thatChristian community is forged. The marks, then, of our obedience are solitude, conviviality, and con templation. The second book is by the Mirfield father,~7 Harry Williams, called Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience.~8 He writes, "Fundamentally, obedi-ence consists of discovering what you most truly and deeply are, or, better, what you have it in you to be, and of being loyal to the insight you have thus received. Such loyalty,., may sometimes, perhaps of.ten, involve a degree of submission to some external auth~ority or other. But its root is not submission to anything external, it is being true to yourself."'~9 Williams uses the example of the creative artist as the most eloquent instance of obedience. It is saying "Yes!" to the vision. Obedience, then, is obedience to one's true. self, and who I am, in the end, is a matter of faith. Williams offers "a test we can apply to anything which demands our obedience. Is the authority demanding obedience only external, nothing more than the imposition upon myself of an alien will. ? The external authority . . . may turn out to be an apparatus, inevitably (since human beings are fallible) no more than a rough and ready 160p. cit. ~TReference is to another Anglican religious order, the Community of the Resurrection [editor|. ~SMitchell Beazley, London, 1975. ~Slbid., p. 83. 349 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 apparatus, to enable people to be obedient to themselves by making pos-sible that give and take between the self and others which man needs because he is a social animal."z° Is the higher obedience what matters in the end because we can only be true to ourselves insofar as we are true to that which is greater than ourselves? "My 'me' is God, nor do I know my selfhood save in him," wrote St. Catherine of Genoa.21 For the real me to emerge there has to be a free surrender to the transcendent. It is in obe-dience that I know that there is more to me than my self-regarding ego. Christian obedience is the denial of anthropological reductionism. I am more than my moods, my emotions, my preferences. Obedience is, Finally, a Matter of Love Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience, these three remain, and the greatest of them is obedience. Christian obedience is the only form of surrender which secures our true liberty. It is, therefore, vital that we keep our obedience Christian, because obedience unfocused and unexamined is the harbinger of demonic tyranny. I call upon you, my brothers and sisters, to be signs of a pioneering, obedient humanity in the decades ahead. The Church, the world, needs men and women who enflesh the final obedience, who, by their very profession, are those who create the open, free, and friendly space for the dying, poor and cramped children of the earth. Christian obedience in the modern world is finally a matter of love--a wild, mad kind of love in a world gone mad. It brings with it a self-authenticating authority which affirms the beautiful and strange dogma of freedom in surrender, of resurrection in death, of joy in self-offering. Perhaps I may be forgiven, so close to our Bicentennial, to twist the words of that unpleasant patriot, Patrick Henry: "Give me liberty or give me death!" To Christians in the modern world, I say, "Give me liberty and give me death!" This is the life-bearing power which comes to those who have died, who have been buried with Christ, and raised with him to life everlasting. We follow the One who was obedient, the One who said "Yes!." "The Son of God, Christ Jesus, proclaimed among you by us ¯ . . was never a blend of yes and no. With him, it was, and is, yes. He is the yes pronounced upon God's promises, every one of them. That is why, when we give glory to God, it is through Christ Jesus that we say 'Amen' " (2 Co 1:19-20). Finally, this self-emptying yes is the prelude to being filled. Christian obedience is a miracle of grace. Like the priest in Bernanos' Diary of a Country Priest, we are saved in surrender. He discovered the miracle of the empty hands, the wonder of being able to give to others what we ourselves do not possess. The yes Of our emptiness and of our agony is God's oppor-tunity, the supreme source of the healing and redeeming power of love. ~°lbid., p. 93-4. 21Quoted by Williams, ibid., p. 98. The Annual Dialogue With the Major Superior Richard P. Vaughan, S.J. Father Vaughan, as a former provincial in his region, has had ample experience with the annual dialogue. Presently he is engaged.in counseling and psychotherapy with priests and sisters, and teaches psychology at Loyola-Marymount University; 7101 W. 80th St.; Los Angeles, CA 90045. A yearly dialogue with the provincial or major superior is an accepted practice among most religious. How this dialogue is conducted and the attitude of the participants frequently determines its value both to the provincial and the individual member. It can be a formality, made out of a sense of duty, and consequently with little fruit, or it can be a most useful means of bringing about spiritual and apostolic renewal within both an individual and a congregation. Changing Role of the Provincial During the past decade the nature° of the provincial's position has changed. Previously the provincial was primarily the chief administrative officer of a unit called a province; today he or she is expected to demon-strate greater leadership in both temporal and spiritual affairs, in addition to handling province business. The emphasis is more on the welfare of individual members and communities and less upon paper work and in-stitutions. In many instances a large portion of the administration has been delegated to others so as to give the provincial more time to devote to the members and to programs which affect their lives. Vatican II has called upon provincials to exercise leadership in bringing 343 344 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 about a renewal within their congregations.1 If provincials are to be effec-tive in responding to this call, they must understand the present state of their provinces. Such understanding can best come through a personal knowledge of the individual members and where they stand in their own lives and on issues and problems confronting the congregation. The major superior who knows each member in a personal way is certainly in a better position to decide on measures to improve the state of a province. Aim of the Dialogue Not infrequently the annual dialogue is the sole opportunity a provincial has to meet with and gain an understanding of each member of his province. For this reason it is most important that the interview be conducted in such a way as to meet both the needs of the provincial and those of the individual member. Effective leadership and the welfare of the province often depend upon its success. In addition to helping the major superior govern the province in a per-sonal manner, the dialogue also serves as an opportunity for each member to receive something in the way of guidance and direction. For those who do not have a spiritual director, this may be one's only occasion to evaluate his or her progress in the apostolic and spiritual life, and to plan strategies for improvement. And, after participating in many similar interviews throughout the province, the provincial is in a unique position to offer counsel according to the spirit of his or her congregation. Finally, the annual dialogue can be most useful in effecting renewal within a local community. Information gathered from all the members of a ¯ given community allows the provincial to understand that community in a unique way and affords him the opportunity to deal with any difficulty that may be brought to his attention either through the local superior or through his meetings with the members of the community. The Kind of Information Needed What kind of knowledge does the provincial or major superior need so as to exercise the leadership expected of him today? First of all, he should know each member of the province on a personal basis, or at least a significant portion of the membership if the province is large. He needs to know how each feels about himself and his life: how he gets along in the local community; how he relates to others in the congregation and outside of it and how he thinks he is doing in his apostolic work. Most of all, the provincial needs to know how each member relates to God, the level of his faith and commitment, and the depth of his spiritual life. The accumulation of such data from interviews with most of the members in the province allows the major superior to make an accurate estimate of where the prov- 1The Documents of Vatican H. Walter M. Abbott, S.J. (Ed.). America Press, 1966, pp. 469-470. The Annual Dialogue With the Major Superior / 345 ince stands and then settle upon the directions his leadership should take. Without this knowledge he may well decide upon a course of action which the members are incapable of following. Moreover, this type of information is essential for any guidance he might offer individuals and local commu-nities as a consequence of the visitation. Approaches The approach taken by a member often determines whether the major superior finds the dialogue profitable. As previously mentioned, some come to him out of a sense of duty. They chat about inconsequentials in a friendly manner, air a complaint or two, assure the provincial that everything is going well, and depart, all in a matter of a few minutes. Obviously such an approach is of little value to either participant, since the purpose of the dialogue is never realized. The provincial comes to no better understanding of the member as a person and a religious under vows, and the member receives no guidance. The member who wishes to help the provincial fulfill his leadership role and at the same time profit from his guidance can take either of two ap-proaches: he can attempt to be an objective historian or he can be an involved autobiographer,z If he chooses to be an historian, he will certainly offer the provincial valuable data which can be used in governing, but the provincial will most probably never come to know him on a personal basis. On the other hand, if he chooses to be an autobiographer, he offers the provincial needed information both about the province and about himself, and at the same time, he affords the provincial the opportunity to know him as a person and as a Christian under vows, following the charism and spirit of his community. Historian The historian centers his attention on past events which he tries to describe in an accurate and objective way. He makes every effort not to allow personal reflections and involvement to color these events. The member who takes the historical approach usually reports a number of significant--and sometimes not so significant--happenings in his life and that of his community since the last dialogue. Because he distances himself from them in his narrative, the provincial often does not come to a better understanding of him as a person. Rather he gets the impression that the member is standing outside of himself as he relates what has happened in his apostolic work, his i:ommunity life and his prayer. There is little emotional involvement. He may even give the impression that any problem he presents is not his own but someone else's. In such an approach, it sometimes happens that the dialogue becomes a monologue with the member moving rapidly from one topic to the next 2Egan, Gerard, Face to Face. Brooks/Cole, Monterey, CA, 1973, pp. 45-46. 346 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 and giving the superior little or no time to react to what has been said until the end--and by that time so many topics have been covered that the superior has either forgotten them or does not know where to begin. Should the superior try to break into the flow of the narrative, he meets with evident signs of displeasure. The message comes across loud and clear: "Take account of what I have to say about the community and our work but keep your distance from me." While such a dialogue does help in later decision making, at least to a degree, it does not contribute to that pool of information the provincial needs if he is to understand where the majority of the members of the congregation stand in their personal and spiritual lives, which is often an important factoi" in future planning. Autobiographer At the other end of the continuum of those engaged in dialogue is the approach of the autobiographer. Here the member gives an account of his own personal experiences and spiritual odyssey. Frequently he does not give an historical narrative in logical sequence or a series of difficulties according to priorities, but rather tries to describe himself as he is now through what has happened during the past year. The focus of attention is on himself rather than on past events. He attempts to have the superior understand who he is at this moment as a person, a Christian, a religious with vows, and a member of a congregation with its own charism and spirit. He relates facts about himself, chosen principally to achieve this end. If he presents a problem or difficulty, he indicates how he personally is reacting to it. He states clearly his own feelings and attitudes, even though the problem involves something outside of himself, such as a complaint about the way a superior is handling another member of the community. He may pass over points which on the surface appear important but, as he sees them, add nothing to the picture he is trying to paint of himself. In the process of talking about himself, the member will most probably also offer observations about the local community, the province and the congrega-tion, all of which will be a help to the major superior both in exercising leadership in the province and in directing the individual involved in the dialogue. The autobiographical approach means lowering defenses and exposing oneself as one actually is at the moment. Such a process calls for humility and risk-taking. In self-disclosure one is never sure what he will discover about himself or how the listener will react to what he hears. Sources of Anxiety Built into the psyche of each of us is a reluctance to talk freely about personal matters, especially to one we would not consider a close friend. As we approach the annual dialogue with the major superior, some knowledge about the sources of this reluctance can be helpful in handling our un-easiness and anxiety. The Annual Dialogue With the Major Superior / 347 Most of us reject some part of ourselves. We tend to block out of consciousness or to hide what we dislike about ourselves. The prospect of having to confront and talk about these unaccepted personal characteristics makes us uneasy. ,The thought of letting down the mask and revealing ourselves just as we are causes embarrassment. As a consequence, most, to some degree, have to struggle .to be fully open and forthright as they progress through the diaioguel A certain amount of embarrassment is simply a part of the human condition, but if it reaches the state where talking about ourselves becomes most~difficult, then we should ask the question: "Am I living behind a mask and playing a role much of the time so as to hide what I am both from myself and from others?" If the answer is affirmative, then We would do well to indicate this feeling to the provincial and discuss it with him. Private Self We all have a private and a public "self.'" The private self is the one we keep to ourselves, or perhaps reveal to one or two close friends: the public self we show to others. In the annual dialogue, we are asked to manifest the private self---at least to some degree. A reluctance to do so is natural. Our relationship with God, how we feel about ourselves and others in the community and, even more so, our own limitations are highly personal concerns. They are hardly topics that we are apt to discuss in a social gathering. It can be helpful to reflect upon the position of the major superior ¯ and how he will use what is discussed to fulfill the ends of his office. It is well, too, to bear in mind that what is discussed actually remains a part of the private self since it must be treated as confidential matter. The superior is not free to divulge it to any other person. In our culture, seeking help from another is often considered a sign of weakness.3 We should be able to solve our own problems and not depend upon others. The mature person should be able to stand on his own two feet, handle his own affairs. If he has a difficulty, he should look for its causes and then seek a solution. If there is no evident solution, he should wait it out, suffering in silence. This attitude is especially prevalent among men. The contemporary masculine image calls for a man to be strong, independent, and reserved in expressing his feelings to others. All of these factors militate against speaking with ease about oneself to a major superior in the hope of getting his guidance. It is not uncommon for a religious to say to himself: "I have been able to handle my difficulties in the past by myself. Why bother the superior now?" As a consequence he passes over matters that should be discussed and, in this event, one of the purposes of the dialogue is lost. As much as we like to think that we are not dependent on others, however, if we stop to reflect, it will become apparent that each of us is 3Jourard, Sidney M., The Transparent Self. Van Nostrand, New York, 1971, p. 133. 34~1 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 dependent upon a number of people. It all goes with being "social ani-mals." We need and depend upon those with whom we live and work. Seeking direction from a concerned person is not a sign of weakness but wisdom. It acknowledges that we all need counsel, that no one is totally self-sufficient. The dialogue can sometimes produce a feeling of closeness toward the superior. For some, such a feeling can be threatening. In the past, they have managed to keep a distance between themselves and others. When some-one tries to get to know them on a deeper level, they become uncomfortable and move back from the developing relationship. As such a person engages in the annual dialogue with the superior, the pressure of this feeling can deter frankness and openness. It may even demand an almost heroic cour-age on his part not to yield to the temptation to be absent at the time of the visitation. Fear of Rejection On the other side of the coin is the fear of rejection.4 The individual is never sure how the superior will react to what he has to say. There is always the possibility that he or she will be judgmental and condemning. The superior may listen with genuine concern and with a desire to help but when the dialogue is over there is a lingering question in the member's mind: "Does he respect me as much as he did before?" If the member's level of self-esteem is low, this nagging doubt can be most painful. Most major superiors have the duty of approving candidates for pro-fession and ordination, and, in some congregations, for positions of au-thority. An awareness of this fact can limit open discussion on the part of the member, for an individual usually will not reveal anything about himself which will endanger his advancement. It is not uncommon, then, for one to give the superior what he thinks the superior wants to hear, and, of course, the dialogue is reduced to game-playing. If the annual dialogue is to achieve its purpose, it is up to the superior to assure the individual that what he says will not be used against him in any way, and then be scrupulous in effec-tuating this assurance. Insight and Change Often the annual dialogue with our provincial can be a way of com-municating with ourselves, getting in touch with how we really feel. It can be a source of new knowledge and insight. As we talk about ourselves, we become more aware of our attitudes, our values, how we feel about a variety of issues and problems.5 For some this opportunity is welcomed enthusiastically; for others it is dreaded--for on such a journey we never know what we will discover. If it brings forth affirming information, self- 4Egan, ibid., pp. 55-56. 5ldern, pp. 53-54. The Annual Dialogue With the Major Superior / 349 esteem is enhanced; if it reveals previously unknown negative qualities, we are forced to look at something that we may find difficult to accept. Not infrequently new self-knowledge calls for change within ourselves and in our lives. Change is never easy. It can place demands on us that we are unwilling to meet, at least at this particular time. As we prepare for the annual dialogue, most of us are aware that the outcome may call for reform. It is this prospect that causes us sometimes to approach the dialogue as an ordeal rather than an opportunity for personal and spiritual growth. Yet, if properly made, the annual dialogue with the major superior can be a means of helping that superior fulfill his role as the leader of the congregation in that region and, at the same time, an opportunity for the member to receive valuable guidance. Whether these aims are attained frequently depends upon the approach taken by the participants, as well as by their openness. Understanding each member in the province on a per-sonal level allows the provincial to determine the state of the province and then to formulate directions which will lead to spiritual renewal and greater apostolic effectiveness for the province, the local community and the in-dividual who has engaged in the dialogue. A Conversation at Final Profession We talked-- First, he ~poke to me: a Word in the a Word in the a Word in the a Word in the Then, he ~poke to me: a Word in the a Word in the a Word in. the a Word in the Love of my family, Pain of growing up, Laughter among childhood friends, Tears at leaving home. Hope of the man 1'11 be, Fear of the silence I've felt, Strength of my brothers and friends, Weakness of the people I serve. Finally, he spoke to me: a Word in the Flesh of a man called Christ, a Word in the Heart touching, challenging, changing, a Word in the Call to live like Him, a Word in the Answer of death and life. Standingspeechless before God, 1 live: all of my days. Thomas J. Burke, O.SS.T. Trinity House 949 Gorsuch Ave. Baltimore, MD 21218 The Charism of the Community: Does It Really Make a Difference? Charles E, Bouchard, O.P. Brother Bouchard is a member of St. Rose Priory, the Dominican Community of Aquinas Institute; 2570 Asbury Rd.; Dubuque, IA 52001. His last article, "Journey of Faith . . . appeared in the July, 1977 issue (p. 592). The whole question of what a commu.nity's charism means was brought to my attention one day while I was teaching a group of high school juniors. I was trying to convince them that the Dominicans had a particular character, a way of doing things, and that consequently their education in a Dominican high school would be in some way different from that in a Jesuit or a Benedictine high school. They were slightly less than convinced. Even though I knew that the spirit of my order was special and different from the Jesuit spirit, it was very difficult to convey that mixture of feelings, experiences and training that made me a Dominican. Then I began to wonder if indeed it really made any difference. Should we attempt to dif-ferentiate ourselves from other religious communities in our ministries? Was our "charism" really worth dwelling upon? My formation placed great emphasis on what is unique to Dominicans: what we are about, who we are, why we exist. It seemed to me that it would be wasteful to put all that aside when I entered the classroom, but I didn't know how I could convey what had been impressed upon me in formation and what had initially led me to commit myself to the Dominican ideal. The document on the renewal of religious life calls members of religious communities to a "constant return to the sources of the whole of Christian life and to the primitive inspiration of the institutes, and their adaptation to 35o The Charism of the Community / 351 the changed conditions of our times" (Perfectae Caritatis, 2). Religious, like all Christians, must constantly re-evaluate their lives in the light of the gospel. They must also identify their particular charism if they are to be effective in their ministry. Perhaps a look at the New Testament roots of these charisms can help us more clearly discern our role today and our mandate for the future. What Are Charisms? The word charism comes from a Greek word meaning "a favor, an expression of kindness or a gift; a special manifestation of the divine presence." A charism is a gift, an ability, a talent, an inclination to be of service in a particular way. John Carroll Futrell, in an excellent article which appeared a few years ago in The Way, "Discovering the Founder's Charism," says that a charism is "simply a graced way of seeing and of following Jesus for the service of the whole Church, which can cease to exist if and when this vision and this service cease to be a true good for the Church.''1 These charisms are gifts of the Spirit to assure the growt.h of Christ's body despite our sinful and incomplete natures. They cannot be earned or demanded of God, but are nevertheless everywhere present and are often readily recognizable by the community. Jesus hinted at this when he said, "By their fruits you shall know them." The first gifts to the early Church were made known at Pentecost in a passage familiar to all of us: And suddenly there came from the sky a noise like that of a strong driving wind, which filled the whole house where they were sitting. And there appeared to them tongues like flames of fire dispersed among them and resting on each one. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit, and began to talk in other tongues and the Spirit gave them utterartce. Ac 2:2-5 (emphasis added). Later, Peter tries to explain the phenomenon and quotes the old Tes-tament: "I foresaw that the presence of the Lord would be with me al-ways." Three things are apparent in this event: first, the Spirit is given to all (~'each one"); secondly, the Spirit empowered them to do something ("gave them utterance"); and thirdly, as Peter makes clear, it is a sign. of a continuing event, the abiding presence of the Lord. Later, St. Paul expounds on the gifts of the Spirit that were first made present at Pentecost with the symbolic flames when he writes to the Church in Rome: Just as each of our bodies has several parts and each part has a separate function, so all of us, in union with Christ, form one body, and as parts of it we belong to each other. Our gifts differ according to the grace given to us. If your gift is prophecy, then 1John Carroll Futrell, "Discovering the Founder's Charism," The Way Supplement 14 (Autumn 1971): p. 63. 359 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 use it as your faith suggests; if administration, then use it for administration; if teaching, then use it for teaching. Let the preachers deliver sermons, the almsgivers give freely, the officials be diligent, and those who do works of mercy do them cheerfully. Rm 12:4-8. While Paul speaks here about very specific gifts which were evident in the early Church, we can obviously extend this to our time. We see these and many more gifts manifested today. Hans Kfing lists three major categories of charisms: l) those of preaching (which include teaching); 2) those of service; 3) those of leadership,z Just as Jesus Christ in his physical body on earth preached, taught, fed the hungry, healed, and forgave, the Church is called upon from its be-ginnings, and is empowe.red by the Spirit which came initially at Pentecost and continues to be present, to continue those works which Jesus did. What Does Jesus' Life on Earth Call Us to Do? An examination of the New Testament reveals Jesus ministering in diverse ways. His whole life was an example for us and the Church to follow. Jesus healed. Perhaps we could cite the healing of the lepers as just one example of his healing (Lk 5:12ff). One healing incident stands out as representative of Jesus' attitude toward those who came to him: A leper comes and says, 'qf you want to, you can cure me." Jesus responds: ~'Of course I want to! Be healed!" (Mk 1:40). Here we find a warm example of Jesus' willingness to cure and relieve suffering. The Church continues that work today in health care and in charismatic and sacramental healing. Jesus preached and taught. Besides the numerous examples we could glean from the parables which served to reveal the Father to those who followed him, Jesus revealed the New Covenant through his preaching of the beatitudes (Mr 5: lff). ~'Rejoice and be glad for your reward will be great in'heaven" signified an entirely new message: there was no need to despair because of present circumstances; a far greater destiny had been won for man by Christ. Preaching remains a primary mission of the Church, both in the in-stitutionalized sense and in the witness to which we are all called. We here consider preaching and teaching together because of their essential simi-larity. Teaching and preaching do not seem to have been distinguished as we know them !oday until after the sixteenth century when a secular society be.gan to emerge. In teaching, Jesus sought to expand the message he preached through his use of parables and his occasional use of more dramatic actions such as the cleansing of the temple. Although preaching is now normally considered to be the proclamation of God's word by those specifically commissioned ZHans K~ing, The Church. (New York: Doubleday and Co., Image Books, 1976), p. 242. The Charism of the Community / 353 to do so, it is very closely related to Christian witness, which is the vocation of every Christian. Preaching, if we consider it in its broadest sense, need not be limited to a solely liturgical setting. Christians, in teaching and witnessing to their faith through Christian lives, are constantly called upon to proclaim the message of salvation. Jesus prayed. Besides the obvious example of his instruction of the Lord's prayer which gave the apostles a new view of God as Father and enabled them to address him as such in prayer, Jesus showed us the im-portance of solitary and petitionary prayer in his agony in the garden (Mk 14:33) and in his temptations in the desert. The Church has followed this call to prayer through its contemplative religious communities, through the Liturgy of the Hours, and through its many exhortations to prayer in private and in a liturgical setting. The Prayer of the Faithful in the Liturgy of the Eucharist is a good example of this emphasis. Finally, Jesus fed the hungry. Sensitive to the crowds that had been following him without food, Jesus multiplied the loaves and fishes and thus provided for this material need (Mk 6:37ff). The Wedding Feast at Cana provides a similar example of his concern for the needs of those with whom he associated. Jesus' visits to the homes of Zacchaeus and Mary Magdalene give us examples of his concern for the human need for com-panignship and affirmation. The Church, as the Body of Christ extended in time and space, con-tinues all these works today. Spreading the Good News, it imitates and follows Christ as it heals, preaches, teaches, feeds and prays. Special abilities (charisma) are given in each of these areas to the members of the Body, and since each is indispensable to the whole, we have an essential unity. Some feed; others teach (study); some have special care for prayer or healing. Religious communities are usually dedicated to one or other of these specific tasks, and we can easily think of at least one religious com-munity that is primarily concerned with each of these duties of the Church. The Alexian Brothers, for example, are specially dedicated to health care, and in that way carry on Christ's work of healing and extend his concern for the sick. Charisms and Religious Life Today, our identity as religious is in question. We have come through a traumatic period during which most of the formhl structures which had supported and signified our lives have melted away, leaving us, at best, with the job of reconstructing our purpose and place in the world, and, at worst, with little idea of which way to turn. Confusion has resulted for older members of our communities who can no longer find the life they once lived; new members entering often find a diffuse selection of life-styles and interpretations to choose from and no longer have a sure external formula after which to pattern their lives. 354 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 I believe, however, that the matter of the place and function of religious life in the world today is somewhat simplified if we recall the idea of charism and the unity of the body of Christ. These charisms are present in the Church, are its lifeblood, and are God's assurance that the Church will be able to continue its work and be a vehicle of salvation. If we see each religious community as a communal realization of one of these charisms, we can see much more clearly what the goal and purpose of that religious community is and what direction.it should take today. Although all of us have the gospel as primary goal, it is important for us to attempt to isolate our community's charism and determine to what extent it is an expression of one of these works of Christ and to what degree it affects our ministry. If Benedictines, for example, can be considered to be primarily an extension of Christ's work of prayer, isn't it reasonable tO assume that a Benedictine school will have a different thrust in spirit than one would expect to find in a Jesuit school whose charism may be more apostolic or a Dominican school where study and "truth" are high values among the religious faculty? If we believe that the Spirit of our founder remains valid and vital, I think we need to evaluate to what extent we live that spirit in our work. In fact, although we must remember the essential unity of the Body of which we are all parts, I think we would be doing the Church a great disservice by losing sight of the particular gifts which our communities seek to foster. The color and diversity that must be a part of the universal Church are greatly enhanced by a realization of the varied ministries and gifts that are present within it. If the charism of the Benedictines is one of prayer and work for the sake of the gospel, then that spirit should be cultivated and held high as one Christian ideal among many others. Religious communities can be of great service to the Church by living their calls to the full and providing many strong examples for others to emulate. None of these orders offers the complete spirit of Christianity, but all together, with the thousands of personalities and talents they represent, symbolize the many-faceted but unified body of Christ. Isolating a community's charism is only half the problem, however. I may be well aware of what it means to be a Dominican, that my call is to preaching and a communal life centered around contemplation and apos-tolate, but how do I communicate that to a group of high school students or to the parish I serve? How do I offer the charismatic elements of my life to the Church at large? How do I convey the vitality that I, as a Benedictine monk or nun, derive from Ora et Labora? How do I express all that the Jesuit motto, Ad majorem Dei gloriam, means to me as a Jesuit? This is a question that is not easily answered, but I would propose a few practical suggestions: 1) First of all, it is necessary to discover one's charism. What was my community founded to do? What was the founder's original intention? How The Charism of the Community / 355 does that translate into the United States in the twentieth century? Are there some parts of my community's charism that no longer remain valid today? (Again, Futrell's article is particularly helpful here.) 2) How does this original insight affect what I do today? If the Dominicans, for example, were founded to combat error in the thirteenth century, is there something in this for me as a high school or college teacher today? Certainly I'm not going to adopt an inquisitorial teaching method. But might the Dominican pursuit of truth lead me to a particularly inquiring stance with regard to my teaching? 3) Am I in my religious community because my talents, interests and personality mesh with the thrust of my community? If so, it is likely that just my personality says volumes about what my religious community is all about. Often the peaceful feeling of prayerfulness that one finds in a mon-astery is due primarily to the fact that most of the monks exude that peace and prayerfulness. Not many extremely boisterous, apostolicaily oriented people would find monastic life to their liking. Similarly, Dominicans are often seen as academic and erudite. One who despises the discipline of study would probably not find the Dominican life palatable. 4) Besides the natural aspects of my personality, how do ! attempt to cultivate consciously the elements of my community's calling into my life? I may be naturally talkative and curious, but those characteristics alone don't make me a Dominican. Discipline in study and a search for truth through prayer and contemplation must accompany any personality char-acteristics that may incline me toward Dominican life initially. The purpose of such an examination and re-emphasis of our purpose and' character is not to separate or divide us. It is simply a recognition that many different parts are necessary to the body of Christ, and that they must work together well. We are in an age of intense self-awareness when every advertisement, book and program compels us to develop ourselves fully and to eliminate, as one author puts it, our "erroneous zones," or those parts of us which function least effectively, to the detriment of our whole selves. Religious communities should do no less. We must take what is strongest in our traditions and build on that, remembering our inter-dependence and ultimate membership in Christ's body. John Futrell states the need well when he says: "What religious communities are called to do in the renewal of their spirit and the adaptation of their life to the signs of the times is really to re-found themselves. They are called to a re-founding because they must communally discern the radically new ways of incar-nating this charism in life and action to which the Holy Spirit, speaking in events, calls them in the world today."''~ Religious charisms do make a difference. They are signs of the presence of the Spirit in our midst and of the rich variety with which he equips the Body of Christ for life and mission. They mutually reinforce one another, aFutrell, idem, p. 70. $56 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 and, together, make the Church both a powerful force for good and a home for an endless variety of people. Religious communities don't do anything different from the rest of the Church, but they should be leaders and ¯ examples. Clearly, if we are part of a religious community that is involved in one of these works which Christ wished to be continued, we should constantly renew our efforts to identify and intensify those works. If we can isolate our community's particular calling, identify in our-selves those inherent traits that suit us to that community and then try to develop our natural talents along the lines of the community's identity, I believe we will have gone far toward unifying and strengthening our com-munity's witness. Throughout history one of the primary tasks of religious life has been that of witness--witness to one of those works of Christ which I pointed out earlier. Whether as a Little Brother of the Poor feeding, as a School Sister of Notre Dame teaching, as a Dominican preaching, as a Benedictine praying, or as a Sister of Mercy healing, we witness to the love of Christ and to the abiding presence of the Spirit in the world. The very fact that we exist to preach, teach, pray, heal and feed can be an invaluable sign to the world that Christ is still with us. But signs must be clear and easily readable. By examining our lives and our callings we can clarify that sign which our ministry and lives are and make them point more effectively to the Kingdom which we have been promised and which has already begun. Now Available As Reprint An apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Bivd, St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Impassioned Presence: Religious Life and Leisure Janie Gustafson, C.S.J. As have so many religious, Sister Janie has reverted to her given name. When last her work appeared in these pages, "The God of Brokenness" (March, 1977, p. 178), she bore the name "'Jean Annette." This article is a chapter from her most recent book, to be released by Harper and Row in May. She mentions of the book: "Celibate passion is a deep-seated life force that courses within each of us, whether we are male or female, lay or clergy, married or single, young or old. It is a passion that longs for intimacy yet leads us to discover our essential aloneness." The title of the book is Celibate Passion. To burn for and to be grounded in the reality of God is the most important thing we can do with our lives. But even this is not enough. Once we have caught fire and have found our deepest center, then we must call forth the birthing of God in others. We must be midwives of new life; we must do something creative with our relationship to God. To be fully religious, we must share him with those around us. This insight has been one of the traditional justifications for choosing a celibate or solitary life-style. Celibacy supposedly gives us more freedom to pursue a career or to give ourselves in creative service. But this is only partly true. Instead of fre.eing us for greater creativity, celibacy often be-comes a synonym for addiction to work. How easily we drown our lives in too much verbiage and paper work, and limit our relationships to the stimulation of one small part of our anatomies. We spend so much of our time reproducing the past or maintaining the status quo that we neglect to develop the multi-dimensional, psycho-physical-spiritual beings we are. In the book of Genesis, when God directs Adam and Eve to be fruitful, 357 3511 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 multiply, and fill the earth, he is referring to more than biological repro-duction. Our vocation is to be co-creators with God, to fill the earth with unique and unrepeatable forms of life. To do this, we must awaken our-selves to new levels of consciousness and experience. Such awakenings~, however, always require time. Thus, I find that implicit in the call to wholeness (which is exactly what religious life is all about) is the call to leisure. I stress leisure as opposed to work because it implies attitudes which are essential to creativity. In the ancient creation stories and myths, divine creativity is never the same as work. Work is purposeful activity, a duty marked by drudgery, a mechanical reproduction of something already existing. Divine creativity, as presented in Genesis, is so leisurely that it seems to be play. God savors, applauds, and rejoices in creating unique and beautiful things. And he does this, as is stated in the books of Ecclesiasticus and Proverbs, only after eons and eons. Before the beginning of the created universe, there was neither activity nor rest. God alone was there. Alone and yet not alone; one and yet three. And there was leisure: an intense, intimate relationship of presence and reciprocity. It is not difficult to understand why we have lost sight of the importance of leisure for creativity. Inherent in our Protestant Ethic is an emphasis on work which has gradually evolved into its ove~:valuation and a very limited concept of what it means. The utilitarianism of Jeremy Bentham has persuaded us that our greatest motivation for work is pleasure, which can only be measured by the utility, or usefulness, of the work. We have learned to equate usefulness with happiness, and the amount of work we do with virtue. In today's society, we are measured by the job we hold and by how many luxuries of the culture we can purchase. Utilitarianism has so saturated even our religious concepts that it is almost impossible for us to be leisurely. Somewhere in our cerebral memory banks, we know that idle hands are potentially evil, and that we are slothful if we prefer to "be" instead of to "do." To be "good" is to work hard and to work always. We suspect options that smack of a Bohemian pursuit of pleasure and we feel guilty when we are not engaged in anything. To relieve ourselves of this guilt, we make leisure work-oriented and centered around the values of progress and production. Our leisure must have a purposi~, even if it is merely to rejuvenate our minds and revitalize our bodies. Thus, many of us in religious life are simply modern-day re-incarnations of Sisyphus, a worker chained to his function, never pausing from fruitless toil and never reaping the rewards of labor. We can only become human, I am convinced, by taking time for leisure and by acquiring the attitudes of leisure. The call to be religious is a call to leisure in all of its most self-actualizing expressions. Aristotle, in his Politics, says that leisure is so important that it is the center about which every.thing revolves. When we become more creative and playful, we be- Impassioned Presence: Religious Life and Leisure / :359 come more like God. As Robert Neale says, "the maturation of the indi-vidual presents the opportunity of growing from playlessness to full play and., to 'fully play' in the adult is religion.''1 "Full play," which "uses ¯ all the potentials offered at the particular developmental stages of the individual's physical, psychological and social growth,'' is the same as what Mortimer Adler calls "leisure work" or Abraham Maslow terms "self-actualization." And this type of play is always an experience of the "holy,''3 which results in wisdom. Ironically enough, when we experience the "holy," the wisdom we perceive often seems more like foolishness (1 Co 1:27). Leisure leads us to a wisdom which seems crazy. It is this.madness which characterizes King David as he danced before the Ark of the Covenant, and St. Paul, who became a fool for Christ. True leisure in relationship to the holy produces what the Greeks call eutrapelia, a nimbleness of mind which enables us to play. It is a wise balance between too much laughter and too much seriousness. The seventh day of creation, then, is not a rest after a week of hard work; it is a festive celebration of new life and love. It is a time of uselessness, a time "where the goal is not to have but to be, not to own but to give, not to control but to share, not to subdue but to be in accord.''4 Usually, the only time we really play is when we are children. This is why I find it significant that several ancient religions have myths of infant gods who create from their play. Dionysius, Hermes, Apollo, and Heracles are all world-creating children. The Christian Savior is the child of Bethlehem. Children seem to know what leisure is. A child enters readily into the spirit of play, imagination, and creativity: A child can waste time, and love every minute of it. A child can see things for the first time, and can be delighted with beauty. Children express wholeness, Carl Jung tells us, because they do not get lost in the one-sidedness of adulthood. A child is thus a "symbol of the union of opposites: a mediator, bringer of healing, ¯. one who makes whole."5 Perhaps this is why Jesus insists that we must become like children to enter the kingdom of God. We know very little about the childhood of Jesus. But we can get clues of what it was like from Luke's report that "the child Jesus grew in wisdom and grace" (Lk 2:40). Luke could have told us that Jesus grew in carpentry skills, but instead he uses wisdom and grace, two words associated with leisure. During those thirty years I think Jesus came to realize that, to be a person of God, one must take time to really see, to marvel at the mystery of being, and to penetrate the essence of things. It is only by being there, ~Robert Neale, In Praise of Play (New York: Harper & Row, 1969), p. 82. 21bid., p. 84. 31bid., p. 97. 4Abraham Heschel, The Sabbath (New York: World, 1951), p. 1. 5Carl Gustav Jung, Psyche and Symbol, ed. by Violet S. de Laszlo (Garden City: Doubleday & Co., 1958), p. 128. 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 in the presence of God, that one can grow in wisdom, discernment, and vision. The gospel tells us that when Jesus called the apostles they left behind their work to follow him (see Mk 1:16-21). We could hardly say that the apostles never worked from that day onward. What I think is meant is that when they came to know Jesus, their attitudes changed. They left behind their pragmatic, workaday attitudes and learnt from him to be still, to suffer with others, and to appreciate the small things in life. Jesus taught them to see the birds of the air, the lilies of the field, the widow with her mite, and the little children at their feet. He taught them to think creatively, to expand their thoughts beyond traditional logic. God, he told them, is everywhere and in everyone: the saint as well as the sinner, the Samaritan as well as the Jew, the woman as well as the man. And he taught them prayer, not that of rote memory or constant petition, but that of simply being in the presence of God in silent adoration. I have often wondered why Jesus referred to himself as a shepherd. He never tended sheep; instead, he was a carpenter. In the context of leisure, his identification as shepherd becomes understandable. The carpenter symbol has always been equated with hard work, usefulness, efficiency, productivity, and common sense. All good qualities, but qualities that can easily become lost in attitudes of pragmatism. The shepherd-symbol, how-ever, has always denoted a person of vision, someone who knows wisdom and leisure. The shepherd symbolizes the responsible adult who has recaptured the essence of childhood. He or she embodies a sense of the ineffable, an awareness of the grandeur of creation, a radical amazement at all of reality. In various myths, the shepherd sees the sacred in the ordinary and thus is the first to discover the abandoned prince or the newly born offspring of the gods. It is certainly not strange that a group of shepherds first discerned the signs of Jesus' birth. Nor is it strange that so many leaders of God's people--Abraham, Joseph, Moses, and David--were also shepherds. Lei-sure produces the vision necessary for good shepherding and wise lead-ership. In taking time to stop and be still for a while, to forget our thoughts and plans, to listen to the sounds of the universe within and around us, we reach new levels of awareness. Our minds are suddenly absorbed by the beauty of particulars, whether immense or infinitesimal. Common things which once seemed boring now loom before us as exquisite works of art, capturing our interest and engaging our curiousity. The frying pan we are washing suddenly becomes a marvelous sculpture; the rose in the garden becomes like no other flower we have ever seen. Uniqueness intoxicates us; we yearn to discover more of the mysteries that surround us. In each particular we contemplate the universal. The world seems more profound, more all-embracing, and more wondrous than we have ever before realized. We are Impassioned Presence: Religious Life and Leisure / 361 awed by a deepened sense that being itself is something penetrable and comprehensible, but at the same time unfathomable, everflowing, and inexhaustible. I have found that the contemplative awareness found in leisure may remain on a purely natural level, or it may soar to the heights of religious experience. This awareness ushers us simultaneously into our full human potentialities and into the silent ever-loving presence of God. For this reason, the ancient Greeks considered the contemplative life as the highest form of existence. In contemplation we become most like God the creator and the lover, and thus, as Aristotle believed, achieve perfect happiness. This contemplation is not an intricately contrived state of altered con-sciousness, but the "relaxed and useless, focused attention of the whole mind on reality, a simple intuitive gaze born of wonder and love."'6 In leisure, we learn with T. S. Eliot to regain our childlike eyes and "'to know the place for the first time.''7 We look and we reverence. We are delighted once again and rejoice continuously in new loves and new ad-ventures. We give recklessly of our undivided attention and once again "resume our childhood love affair with single, concrete objects: with one coffee table, with one backyard, with one human face.''a We learn to love with no purpose; to face life without manipulation or exploitation. With no expectation whatsoever, we come, we are silent, and we take a long, undistracted look. Our prayer ceases to be an obligation Or duty. God and the soul "have fruition of each other in the deepest silence.''9 God becomes the heart of our being, the center of our lives, the priority of our day. We take time and make time, perhaps consciously at first, but then uncon-sciously, until at last we realize this is the way it must always be. The wisdom of leisure is the knowledge, of firsthand experience: a sa-pientia of communion, a tasting of the right things. More than contem-plation of the beautiful, it is a vital union which obliterates all barriers and joins the lover and beloved as one. It is an experienced knowledge in which the separateness of the ego begins to fade, and we enter rapturously into the object we are contemplating. Such union leads to a new creation on both the natural and the religious levels (see 2 Co .5:17). So absorbing is this ex-perience that we often lose our sense of time. Everything, past, present, and future, becomes here and now. Slowly, we learn to live wholly in each moment. Everything, in this frame of mind, is a gift to be celebrated. We are inundated with a new zest for life. We are so joyfully caught up in the 6Fr. William McNamara, "The Meaning of Festivity," Desert Call (Special Anniversary Issue, May, 1971), p. 50. ~T. S. Eliot, "'Little Gidding," Four Quartets (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1943), p. 59. 8Walter Kerr, The Decline of Pleasure (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1962), p. 207. aTeresa of Avila, Interior Castle, trans, by E. Allison Peers (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1961), p. 223. 369 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 moment that we learn more and more the ability of present. Everything is thus made holy. Living in the present moment teaches us a certain dependency and trust. There is more to life than what we put into it; the future is not always determined by our own efforts or plans. One of the saddest consequences of the growth of technology is that to a great extent we are no longer dependent on the seasons and the sun, the amount of rainfall or the fertility of the soil. No longer are we ,forced by nature to wait until the right time of growth or maturation. It was not until I spent a year in the wilderness of Nova Scotia that I made time in my life for nature and waiting. The garden was not just a garden, but a miracle of new life; the forest was not just a forest, but an eco-system made up of individual trees and fascinating animals. Dogs were no longer dogs, but creatures who taught me about the exuberance of living and the humor of God. I learned that I had to wait until the chickens decided to lay their eggs before I could gather them. To go to the nearest town, I sometimes had to wait until a fallen tree had been rolled aside or the muddy road had dried up. This natural experience of waiting led to an intense awareness of the sacred. As the natural ground exploded into its harvest, so too my ground ignited with the divine fire. God was not only real but present. In Nova Scotia I also learned of an ancient Jewish custom which changed my understanding of leisure. This custom regards the Sabbath as a time of presence. On the preceding night, a vigil is held to heighten our awareness and to usher in the Sabbath in a revered way. The Sabbath thus is neither a dutiful time of worship nor a day of rest. Instead, it becomes a day of true leisure, the celebration of reciprocity: we come to God and God comes to us. Shekinah, the divine indwelling, comes in a special way seeking human love. God chooses to linger with his creation and to have intercourse with it. "'When that day comes, it is Yahweh who speaks, you will call me, 'my husband'." (Ho 2: 18). There is a celibate part of us that is in some way engaged to eternity, to holiness, to the God of all creativity. This part of us anticipates the footsteps of God's coming, sees the wonderful in the ordihary signs of his advent, and savors every glimpse of his being. When we come to recognize this celibate part of ourselves, I think we will spontaneously make special room in our lives for prolonged vigils and sacred days. These times will be so sacred that they can be gloriously celebrated, revered, and con-sequently, wasted. By entering into this leisurely dimension of celibacy, I believe we will be better able to respond passionately to the whole of life. We will learn to be present to both the comedy and the tragedy, with both laughter and tears. We will become more real, more intensely saddened and more hilariously joyous, because of our faith that all these experiences are Impassioned Presence: Religious Life and Leisure / 363 reconciled in God's presence. I think the absence of this faith is one reason why Jesus got so angry with the Pharisees. "We played the pipe for you, and you wouldn't dance; we sang dirges and you wouldn't be mourners" (Mt 11: 17). They did not believe enough in God to let life seep into their bones and profoundly move them. Jesus himself knew happiness and tears, gentleness and anger, harshness and compassion. What sustained and supported him in both p6sitive and negative situations was his faith in God's presence. He could believe with Job that even in the darkest of nights he would again know laughter and the cries of joy (Jb 8:21). I sense in Jesus a conscious feeling not only of the rhythm of these alternating opposites but of their intrinsic harmony, their essential place in the eternal order. To respond to this divine order is, I believe, the essence of religious obedience. It is an interior and exterior sense of harmony, of being in step with the music, of doing the right things at the right time. Whenever I experience this harmony, I am filled with peace. I am one with God, and this makes my heart light. My spirit soars; it y~arns to express its delight. "You have made known the way of life to me; you fill me with gladness through your presence" (Ps 16:11). Lightheartedness, with its spirit of play, is often expressed in dance. Dancing has always been an excellent symbol of leisure, for it embodies all of the characteristics which also lead to creativity. To dance means to immerse our whole selves in the present moment. We focus our attention on the other, whether that other be a partner or the music or a particular rhythm, and we become one with the movement. Dancing has been re-garded by many people as a waste of time, for when we are dancing, we cannot do anything else. But that is precisely the point. And that is why dancing has always been an expression of divine worship and.why I wish we would dance more in our liturgical services. As Van der Leeuw writes: "The dance, by its very nature, is ecstatic. It makes us beside ourself, lifts us above life and the world, and lets our whole earthly existence perish in the maelstrom.''1° For the ancient Hebrews, dance was an expression not only of joy but of intense praise. Only by wasting time, in losing oneself in the Beloved, can one really come to praise. The essence of real worship is the useless, selfless affirmation of the Other. Thus, when the Hebrews worshipped Yahweh, they put their whole hearts and souls into it. The book of Exodus speaks of timbrels and dancing (15:20-21); Judith writes of garlands and palm branches in the hands of all (15:12-14); the First Book of Samuel tells of dances to the sound of music and joyous cries (18:6). "David and all the House of Israel danced before Yahweh with all their might, singing to the accompaniment of lyres, harps, tambourines, castinets, and cymbals . David danced whirling round before Yahweh . leaping and., displaying ~°Gerardus Van der Leeuw, Sacred and Profane Beauty: The Holy in Art, trans, by David E. Green (New York: Holt, Rinehart, & Winston, 1963), p. 29. 364 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/3 himself as any buffoon" (2 S 6:5, 17, 20). The Scriptures repe~atedly invite us to praise God in a way that is more than verbal (see Jdt 16:1-2; Ps 149:2-3). The New Testament accounts are no different. Everywhere Jesus goes, he makes people lighthearted. "The blind see again, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised to life" (Lk 7:22). Through the ages, Christians have repeatedly come back to this concept of leisure as it relates to religious life. Sixth-century Christian art portrays the resurrection of Jesus as a dance in which he draws the redeemed upward toward heaven. Christ, as the firstborn of the dead, is the leader in the eschatology of freedom, and the Church, as his bride, dances along. Ac-cording to these paintings, to dance is to see God. Dante, probably more than any other Christian writer, sees the entire universe laugh with delight in God's presence. He writes 6f innumerable dances.~1 Heaven is filled with "the dancing and great festival of the singing and flashing of light with light, joyous and benign.'w' Everything for Dante whirls around the Center in perfect harmony and ecstatic rapture. The traditional association of leisure with religious life, in my opinion, expresses a profound wisdom. Only when people began to equate creativity with work instead of with leisure, did our concepts of prayer and heaven become passive and uninteresting. Time spent in mutual loving presence between God and ourselves can never be static or never become boring. In being called to be religious, it is important to remember that we are also called to leisure. This call--which contains a lifetime of creative attitudes and expressions--embraces both activity and passivity, play and work, contemplation and apostolic service. Abraham Heschel puts it thus: ~'Ev-ery instant is an act of creation. A moment is not a terminal but a flash, a signal of be.ginning. Time is perpetual innovation, a synonym for con-tinuous creation.''~3 To become fully human, fully religious, I believe we must embrace everything with an impassioned presence. l~Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy, trans, by H. R. Huse (New York: Rinehart, 1958). Dante.writes of the dance of the fiery spirits (Paradise VII:4, p. 359), of the lofty Seraphim (Paradise VII1:25, p. 365), of the blazing stars---who seem "to be ladies not ending a dance but silently waiting and listening until they have heard the new measure" (Paradise X: 75-80, p. 376), and of the Principalities and Archangels (Paradise XXVIII: 124-125, p. 458). ~Zlbid., Paradise XI1:22-24, p. 383. ~aHeschel, op. cir., p. 100. Poverty and the Space Around Us Charles A. Law, S.J. Father Law has been missioned for twenty years to Nepal, having originally entered the Chicago Province of the Society of Jesus. His present address is: St. Xavier's School; Jawalakhel; G.P.O. Box 50' Kathmandu, Nepal. 'In| this article I would like to share with you some personal reflections on how the practice of religious poverty helps to develop a sense of God. Many nowadays develop the meaning of poverty in relation to our apostolate. Poverty for them has its meaning in helping Christ's poor. Some develop this idea further by equating poverty with a

Issue 33.2 of the Review for Religious, 1974. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1974 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review Jor Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor March 1974 Volume 33 Number 2 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Directed Prayer and the Founding Charism Norbert Brockman, S.M. Father Norbert Brockman is a staff member of the Marianist Center; 4435 East Patterson Road; Dayton, Ohio 45430. Among the growing movements among American religious in the past few years has been the directed retreat. In increasing numbers, religious have placed themselves under a director who has guided their meditation for periods as long as thirty days.1 The movement owes much to the Jesuits, who have taken leadership throughout the countr~ in reviving an approach to the retreat that is closely linked with their own renewal and spirituality.2 There have been spinooffs from the directed retreat movement that sug-gest that directed retreats are much more than a passing fad, although for some they will take on that character. The first of the side benefits of the directed retreat movement has been that religious of a number of congregations, especially women, are being trained in the method and approach of directing prayer. The Jesuits have established centers for this purpose, and programs for training, using the Ignatian retreat, are well patronized. A congequence of this is the flowering of directed retreats among women religious,, and the better training of for-mation personnel capable of working with mature nuns. Secondly, the directed retreat seems to bring many religious to long-term spiritual direction. Foi" the first time, for many religious, ~it has been possible--in a directed retreat--to consider spiritual direction as some- 1See, for example, Margaret Baker, H.V.M., "My Experience of a Directed Retreat," Review for Religious, v. 31 (1972), pp. 573-7; Sister Christine Freed, R.G.S., "I Feel like Singing Forever," Review ]or Religious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 1379-1384. '-'Thomas E. Clarke, SJ., "The Ignatian Exercises---Contemplation and Discernment," Review ]or Religious, v. 31 (1972), pp. 62-9. 257 258 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 thing other than crisis intervention. While one can comment only impres-sionistically, it seems that a real phenomenon of the past three years has been the increased desire among religious for spiritual direction.:' While the pattern is not so clear as to the expectations.of the religious seeking direction, the question of growth in prayer is always a serious considera-tion. The direction of prayer itself has an ancient and honorable tradition in the Church. From the earliest days of Christianity, the spiritual novice submitted himself or herself to a spiritual guide under whose direction growth in the life of prayer was undertaken. The stories of the fathers of the desert reinforce this strongly, and direction in prayer was for them an all-important issue in the relationship between novice and adept Chris-tian. The origins of this are obscure, but it would seem that the earliest forms of direction in prayer come from the baptismal catechesis, where the person responsible for the conversion of a neophyte not only helped in the education of the candidate for baptism, but particularly assumed the task of.teaching them the spiritual life. Together the two shared a period of prayer and 'fasting before the administration of the sacrament." In modern times, with the structure of the annual or other periodic retreat, various forms or styles of retreats came to the fore. The Ignatian r~treat has always had, in this period, a special place. It has been widely used b~, religious whose congregations are not Ignatian in spirituality, and its very basic Christian themes have made it equally.popular among lay-people. Although the preached retreat had become the predominant form, the notion of the directed retreat never died out, and its revival on such a large scale is in reality a return to an earlier Ignatian tradition. The Notion of the Directed Retreat The focus in the directed retreat is on the notion of "directed." It is a retreat in which the pfirticipant works with the retreat master in the man-ner of a s~iritual director. There is normally an hour-long interview each day, during which the retreatant's prayer is evaluated, directions and themes are~ given for further meditations, and the quality of the retreatant's prayer' is developed? As indicated above, although the nature of the directed retreat has ancient roots in the Church, it has been most characteristic o~ Jesuit re-aSee Sandra Marie Schneiders, I.H.M., "The 'Return' to Spiritual Direction," Spiritual Lile, v. 18 (1972), pp. 263-78. 4Michel Dujarier, Le parrainage des adultes aux trois premiers siO(les de l'Eglise (Paris: 1962), p. 377. 5Herbert F. Smith, S.J., "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," Review ]or Religious;,v. 32 (1973), pp. 490-7. This article is available from Review ]or Religious as a separate reprint. Directed Prayer and the Founding Charism / ~259 treats in recent years. The point needs to be made that the nature of this retreat is simply the direction of prayer itself, adapted to the peculiar de-sign of a retreat, a period of time in which a person withdraws from ordi-nary pursuits to develop more consciously and deliberately in the spiritual life. Admittedly, among American religious other values have also entered in,, but this has always been understood as the essential purpose of retreat. For, a religious working far from the center of his province~ in a small community, the value of fellowship is a real one, for example. Some province retreats resemble a tribal gathering in this regard, and others use a workshop model rather than the traditional one of withdrawal for prayer. The comments that follow will be placed in the context of directed re-treats, but they might as easily apply to much of the real work of spiritual direction. Direction in prayer, even the special, concentrated form of di-rected meditation used in directed retreats, is the heart of spiritual direc-tion. An aspect of regular ~direction, even if relatively infrequent, is sug-gestions for prayer, the joint evaluation of movements in prayer, the dis-cernment of these movements, and help in heeding the call to new levels of prayer. The purpose of this article, however, is not to explore the nature and values, of the directed retreat, but to discuss its use to inculcate the values from the founding charism of a particular ~religious congregation. The question of the nature of th~ directed retreat has been explored in depth elsewhere." What has not been investigated at any point is how the tech-nique of the directed retreat can contribute to the deepening of the ~ommit-ment of a religious to his/her °founding charism. Because non-Ignatian development of the directed retreat has been so°limited, the paucity of in-formation on the topic is understandable. What follows here is based on the author's study within the documents of his own order, as well as at-tempts to work with sisters of two other,groups attempting to find better means for developing their own spirituality within their members. The Founding Charism .In recent attempts among religious to heed the directives of Vatican II that they renew .themselves in the spirit of'their founders and foundresses, the emphasis has been placed upon research and the question of teaching the proper spirit of the order to cb.ndidates,r Along with this has gone the concern for finding newer expressions for the origina! teaching of the founder, while remaining faithful to his/her intent. This has produced some valuable materials in some groups, some false starts in others; there ~William A. Barry, ~S.J., "The Experience of the First and Second Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises," Review ]or Religious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 102'-9. See also the same author's "Silence and tl~e Directed Retreat," Review ]or Religious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 347-51; and Smith, "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat." rVatican Council II, The Renewal o/Religious LiIe, no. 2. Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 have been elements of both renewal and deception in the experience of getting in touch with one's roots. In the directed retreat, the issue changes somewhat. The purpose of the retreat is not to analyze, speculate, or study. It is to experience the meaning of the life of the Lord in a renewed sense. It is to deepen one's prayer, and to deal with issues that affect the spiritual life. When we speak of a directed retreat designed to inculcate the values of the spirituality of a religious congregation, therefore, the point is that the important elements of that spirituality must be assembled in what may be new ways, intended to move the soul through prayer more than grouped in perfectly logical structures. The experiential dimension, and the very goal of the directed re-treat according to one's own charism, is to bring the retreatant to the ex-perience that the founder had in founding the congregation. One must experience the foundation within oneself as a truly authentic, congruent integration of the spiritual life. It should make sense, bring an interior peace, and strongly confirm one's commitment to this congregation at this time in history. Few religious have taken themselves, or been taken, through the experience of the founder or foundress.'By this is not meant that the privations or sufferings of the founder--the more dramatic ele-ments of his/her life--need be reproduced in some sort of role playing. Indeed, the point is the reproduction of the insight and inspiration of the founding charism itself. What elements of the Christian experience brought about the development that the religious knows as his/her spiritual legacy? How were the evangelical counsels and the gospel message ex-perienced by the founder in such a way that the foundation of this group became a means of incarnating these values? If the congregation is the incarnation of the values of the founder--an extension of his/her charism into history--how is it to be experienced, personally by the members and corporately by the community as a whole? The questions above zero in on the issues that the directed retreat can deal with, in terms of the founding charism of a congregation. What is ob-vious, then, is that the design of the retreat must be developmental, and that might well be, as stated above, quite different from the design used to teach the ideas of the charism, or to study them. Critical Elements of a Founding Charism What, then, are the elements of a founding charism that must be con-sidered in designing such a retreat experience? The Spiritual Exercises are a brilliant example and deserve to be studied, even by those whose spiritual tradition differs sharply from that of the Jesuits. The themes, from the "Two Standards" to the last consideration, are highly developmental. Each builds on what precedes, not so much intellectually, but in the context of faith. It is possible to find all the elements of the Christian life from conversion Directed Prayer and the Founding Charism / 261 to union with God. In short, a spiritual path is described. At the same time, the style of the retreat is congruent with the highly personal emphasis on decision and discernment. The Ignatian directed retreat is characterized (usually, although there are exceptions) by lone meditation, usually at some length, by minimal communal aspects, and by minimal liturgical life. The focus is on the individual coming to grips with his/her personal relationships with the Lord, with an acceptance of that Lordship in one's life, and in the development of a prayer life that nourishes and defines that relationship. What then are the elements of a founding charism that are critical to the development of directed prayer in this ~evelopmental sense? Four ele-ments surface in any investigation of this question: method of prayer, ascetical and/or devotional practices, a spiritual system, and theological concepts. These are the elements that the designer of the retreat prayer experiences needs to coordinate. The study that makes this possible should be on the part of the retreat director, and the retreatant should not be called o'n to do other than move immediately into the prayer experience. .Let us, then, briefly look at each of these elements of the founding charism in turn. Method of Prayer The first critical question is whether the founder taught a method of prayer, particularly a method of meditation. In many cases, what will be discovered is that the founder/foundress did .use a currently popular method of meditation, but that it was a matter of convenience in instruct-ing novices, and not an important element of the spirituality of the con-gregation. Here some communal discernment is necessary. In reading the founder's letters of direction, for example, or instructions on prayer, it is necessary to discover the significance of any proper method to the totality of his/her founding charism. If a distinct approach, emphasis, or technique is present, it should be integrated in the directed prayer of the retreat experience, For instance, a congregation consecrated to Mary might well have developed a receptive approach to prayer based on an understanding of Our Lady's fiat, a disposition of total availabi!ity to the Lord. It would hardly be congruent in such a case to suggest.an aggressive, intellectual type of mental prayer. It would surely conflict with many of the themes that the founding charism will c6ntain. Ascetical and/or Devotional Practices This area, like the last, deserves careful work to determine the con-tinuing value of the ascetical and/.or devotional practices of the founder. Things which are merely characteristic of the nationality or culture of the founder may be safely set aside, and tangential devotions may also be ex-cluded. After all, even founders and foundresses are entitled to devotional 262 / Review 1or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 expressions which are uniquely personal, and without having these pro-jected onto their religious foundations! In what sense is the devotion in-volved in the direction that the founder gave his/her early members? What is its theological content? A founder or foundress with a great de-votion to the cross, who writes and speaks of the cross in such a way that it permeates the spirituality of the order, is teaching something of greater import than a founder with a great personal devotion to a. patron saint or to a shrine. Similarly, the practice of taking names in religion may have been merely the religious convention of the time of foundation, or it may have had specific meaning~ Other ascetical practices are.to be similarly evalu-ated. In one tradition, the regulations of the founder about the diet may have been a simple indication of poverty within his .cultural context; in another tradition, the manner in which the question is treated might indi-cate that the retreat should include some fasting, if possible, and with cerr tain goals in mind. A Spiritual System The most obvious element is the spiritual system of the foundation. Did the founder have an approach to spirituality which he taught to the early members? What virtues did he consider important, especially, what aspects of the Christian life did he consider characteristic of his founda-tion? What were his interpretation and understanding of evangelical chastity, poverty, and obedience, and did this differ from the prevailing understand-ings of his time? Did the foundation include any other vows besides the three traditional ones, even though these may no longer exist in the con-gregation? What was the value that the founder/foundress was stressing by having additional vows? What was his/her notion of common life and community experience? What is the role of the apostolate in fostering the spiritual life? All these are part of the questions that must be asked in the process of constructing the spiritual system of the founder or foundress, as, usually in most cases, active founders have not written out the spiritual system in clear fashion. Besides exploring the documents of the congregation, however, the living experience of the early foundation is itself of importance. The story of the life of the founder is often of great value in determining what he meant by a certain teaching. Religious orders are, after all, not only com-munities, but a special modality of community--witness communities that show forth the transcendent dimension of Christian life. The witness of the early foundation, therefore, is of great importance as a form of teach-ing. Theological Concepts Usually, theological concepts do not appear in a founding charism as Directed Prayer and the Founding Charism / 263 such. Founders and foundresses are rarely interested in theology except as it reveals the person :of Jesus Or underlies a religious value. Nevertheless, founders are usually very concerned about fidelity to the deposit of faith. A renewed understanding of theological concepts in recent years may make it possible to enrich the understanding of the founder. The founding charism does not really change, but the religious order is called to fidelity to it, not to literal acceptance in the language, cultural norms, and symbols of the early society. As the Church grows in its understanding, of herself and her divine mission, so 'a religious congregation should show signs of growth in its self-understanding.'To utilize a theological concept such as the Eucharist without integrating the better insights coming from a renewed liturgy of celebration would be more than unfortunate. It would be .a denial of the fidelity'of the founder to the Church's teaching, because as he was faithful to ~the Church's expression of eternal truth in his time and culture, so the congregation, today must reproduce that fidelity. Again, renewed Biblical scholarship has made possible far greater sophistication in understanding the gospel message than heretofore. That cannot be ignored in studying the founding charism, merely because it has happened since the founder died! The °emphasis laid upon the experiential above is not to be interpreted as demeaning the importance of the intellectual as preparation for prayer. Anti-intellectualism is not a mark of the Christian, Quite the contrary, and the directed prayer experience will be the richer for the .hours spent by both ~director and retreatant in studying the basic teaching ,of the Church, especially in those areas that touch upon the founding charism. ~Fhe Retreat ~s Reflection of the Founding Charism The first of the elements of a founding charism was stated as the method of meditation or mental prayer. The idea of the importance of the ,congruence of this with~the total spirituality of the founder or foundress was stressed, but this idea can also be expanded~. The entire style of the directed retreat should reflect the founding.charism. The import/race of this cannot easily be exaggerated because of ~he'experiential nature of:the directed retreat. There" is a profound difference between the directed re-treat., as desert experien.ce (silence, lone meditation at great length, and so forth) and the directed retreat as communal',experience (common liturgi-cal celebrations,' some group discussion, and so forth). In among these contrasts are many modalities of directed retreat, of course. The point is that it is important to include those aspects which will most effectively help the retreatant to gro~w into the values which are the subjects of the prayer experiences. The spirituality that emphasizes a deeply communitarian-or service value will not come through successfully in a desert experience. This i~ not to say that the desert experience is not of value for religious f~'om adtive commui~ities~(far from it!), but only that a limited aspect of their spirituality is likqly to emerge in such a context. Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 Similarly, methods of discernment should be congruent with the found-ing charism itself. What was the method for discerning the will of God used by the founder or foundress? Was it a communal means, or one based on authority? Discernment itself has become an issue, both within the directed retreat movement and in other contexts? It is an integral part of the Spiritual Exercises, and would seem to be an integral part of the work of the director of prayer. Within a given tradition, the method of dis-cernment might well be prophetic or charismatic. More likely it will reflect an authoritarian tone, which would translate into the directed retreat as a form of obedience to the spiritual guide. This type of obedience itself needs to be understood, as it isnot the same as the obedience owed a superior under the evangelical vow. In some traditions, the means of discernment might be very communal, in such a way that group direction might be a compatible style for certain congregations using the directed retreat. This would be alongside the pri-vate interview, which is essential to the directed retreat. A final word should be added on the place of resolutions. Many re-ligious feel strongly that they should come home from retreat with clear resolutions for the future--a battle plan, so to speak. The presumption is so strong with many that it is an issue that should be frankly discussed with the director. It is certainly not necessary for the directed retreat; it is enough that there be an interior renewal and deepened commitment to the spirit of the foundation. Whether there are "results" or decisions on con-crete action for the future should flow from the needs of the person him-self/ herself. Too often it is merely another expression of a workaholic personality. Conclusion This has been a simple and sketchy view of the development of a directed retreat from the point of view of the goal of growth in the spirit of one's own order. As such, directed prayer is a powerful means of growth toward incarnating in oneself the values of the founding charism. It is a means of renewal that not only affirms one's commitment to religious life, but also goes far toward building and renewing the community through renewed religious, standing firmly in the tradition of the one who brought the order into being under God's grace. 8Criticism has been recently expressed by W. Peters, S.J., "Discernment: Doubts," Review ]or Religious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 814-7. See also James V. Gau, S.J., "Dis-cernment and the Vow of Obedience," Review for Religious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 569-74; David T. Asselin, S.J., "Christian Maturity and Spiritual Discernment," Review ]or Religious, v. 27 (1968), pp. 581-95; and John R. Sheets, S.J., "Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of the Discernment of Spirits," Review ]or Religious, v. 30 (1971), pp. 363-76. The last article (that of Father Sheets) is available from Review ]or Religious as a separate reprint. Prayer: The Context of Discernment Charles J. Healey, S.J. Father Charles J. Healey, S.J., is a faculty member of the Department of Theology; Boston College; Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts 02167. Discernment Today In our attempts to seek and find God in our lives and to live out our Chris-tian lives of faith, hope, and love, we are often involved in a process of rediscovery. There is not that much that is new for us in the sense of dis-covering something for the first time. But often the conditions of the times in which we live and our own felt needs combine to lead us to focus on a particular aspect of the spiritual life. Such, I would suggest, is the case in the area of discernment. It is certainly a term that has deep roots in the history of Christian spirituality. But ours is a period that has seized upon the process of discernment--perhaps too quickly and too glibly at times-- in the hopes that it might aid us in our efforts to love and serve God both as individuals and as communities, and to seek and respond more gener-ously to His will in our lives. This renewed interest in discernment should come as no surprise. First of all, there is the very visible desire of many to deepen their own union with God, to establish or reestablish what they consider the essentials and priorities in their lives, and to make any required decisions in a context of faith and prayer. In a time of great change, many are seeking to find strength and unity within themselves not only to cope effectively with their lives and all their responsibilities, but also. to maintain themselves as lov-ing and productive persons. Secondly, many communities are turning to the process of discernment as a method of helping them in their attempts at renewal as a community and as a basis for group decisions. But whether 265 266 / Review for Religious, ~olume 33, 197.4/2 it is a case of individual discernment or corporate discernment, it is impor-tant to stress over and over that the basis of any discernment has to be the deep and intense prayer of the persons involved in the process. The context of any true discernment is prayer. The purpose of this article, then, is to offer some reflections on discernment, using the word in the broadest sense here and focusing on the intimate connection between discernment and prayer. ontex! Is Prayer Discernment really makes sense only when it is situated in the context of prayer. Unless there is a corresponding desire to seek and find God continually in our lives and to deepen our awareness of His reality and presence, discernment can end up just being talk. The seeking and yearn-ing attitude of the Psalmist must penetrate our own lives deeply: "To you, my heart speaks; you my glance seeks, your presence, O Lord, I seek. Hide not your face from me" (Ps 27:8-9). There is, of course, a renewed in-terest and even a hunger on the part of many today in the area of per-sonal prayer; and this accounts in part for the renewed interest in the area of discernment. There are many indications of this all around us at the present time; and many are definitely expressing a desire for praye~r which springs from a felt human need and the presence of the Spirit in our midst, ever renewing, ever arousing. Recently I was listening to a taped conference on prayer by Thomas Merton in which he mentioned at the beginning that he ~did not like to talk a great deal about prayer. This was certainly not from any disinterest, for if there is any constant preoccupation and interest that emerges in his life and writings, it would be with the value and priority he constantly gives to prayer. But he wanted to stress the point that pr~yer for us should be something simple and natural, something as simple and natiaral as breath-ing. It is hard for us to talk about breathing since it is such a normal process of our lives and one wfiich we can easily take for granted. So, too, he feels should be the case with prayer. At times we can complicate it and make an issue or a cause out of it. But usually when we make a~ca~]se or an issue out of something, we oppose it to something else: "This is.prayer, this isn't. This is something sacred, this isn't." The f~us could then shift to the issue rather than the reality, and prayer could then be viewed as something complicated and artificial. Perhaps we can best consider prayer as the simple, natural, continual response of one who is,. convinced he be-longs to God and seeks to grow in union with Him, and the response of one who realizes he is a person possessed by a loving God. And it is in this climate, this atmosphere of prayer tl~at the whole process of discern-ment should be placed. The context is a very normal, full, and serious seek-ing after God. Pray'~r." The Context o[ Discernment / 267 The Process of Discernment ' Discernment, then, should not be considered a cause or an issue nor ev~en' a method in itself. It is a process in prayer by which one seeks seri-ously to know and follow God's will, to hear His call and faithfully and generously respond in the very real life situation of the person concerned. If l~ra~er should be a very human and ordinary experience, so too should b6 discernment. In this sense, it is a very simple process; and yet, on the other hand, it can be difficult in the sense that it presupposes constant efforts at'a deep and continuous union with God through prayer. This re-quires perseverance, patience, and willingness to expend time and energy. It' cannot be turned off and on like a water faucet if it is to be effective; it presupposes a firm basis of faith and the continuous seeking of the presence of the Lord. ~Alth0ugh discernment is a word that can come easily to the lips, it can still remain a rather elusive concept. Perhaps this is because it pre-soppos~ so much else. At any rate, we might recall Father Futrellrs defi-nition that discernment "involves choosing the way of the light of Christ instead of the way of the darkness of the Evil One and living out the con-sequences of this choice through discerning what specific decisions and ac-tions a~e, demanded to follow Christ here and now.''1 Thus discernment focuses on the ongoing attempts to clarify and ascertain God's will in our lives and seeks to specify what actions and decisions are required in the life of "on'e who wishes to follow Christ tothlly. The process presupposes an int'eflse desire, hunger, and willingness to seek God's will and to embrace it generously once one has come to a reasonable certitude regarding it. W~ might say it all comes down to our attempts to hear and respond to:the wo~'d of God in our own unique lives. But. if we are to be sensitive t~lGod speaking to us in the many ways He does.in our liv6s, we must first hear His call; we must listen quietly and give Him frequent opportuni-ties to speak to us. If we fire to b~ sensitive to God's presence and attentive to His touch, there must be an element of stillness and listening. Since this listening~aspect is so important for discernment, we should not be surprised to find this aspect of prayer being re-e~mphasized today.2 Many are ex-periencing the need today to. take time out from all their activities in order to turn within and seek God's presence within, to contemplate Him and to listen to Him in the stillness of their hearts. It is a kind of active receptivity as we let the radical truth of God shine forth with its own life within us. We seek to make the words of the P~almist our own: "In your light we see light." It is in this atmosphere .of stillness and presence that one can best determine God's call, God's touch, God's will. ~John C. Futrell, S.J., "Ignatian Discernment," Studies in the Spirituality o] Jesuits, v. 2, no. 2, p. 47. '-'See, for example, W. Norris Clarke, S.J., "Be Still and Contemplate,"~ New Catholic World, November-December 1972, pp. 246 ft. 2611 / Review [or Religious, l/'olume 33, 1974/2 Building on the Past As we seek to see clearly where God is touching us at a given time and where He is leading us and asking us to respond and follow, it is very help-ful to grow in the awareness of where God has touched us and nourished us0 in the past. Each of us has his or her own unique history in the hands of a loving God, that is, significant events, persons, books, Scripture pas-sages, and so forth, that have been a source of great strength and help. All of this constitutes our own faith experience of God; and the more it is brought to our conscious awareness, the more it becomes our own. Often in discernment workshops or faith sharing experiences, methods and oppor-tunities are presented to help individuals grasp more explicitly what they uniquely possess of God in their lives. One can call this by various names: one's core experience of God, one's beauty within, one's name of grace, and so forth. But it all comes down to the same reality: we seek to realize what we already possess, what is uniquely ours, and where God has touched us and loved us significantly. Once we are more aware of how God has acted in our lives in the past, we can more easily return in a spirit of prayer to be nourished and strengthened and sustained. What has sustained us in ~the past and what has touched us before, can sustain us and touch us again. This conscious awareness also helps us to be more responsive and sensitive to where God is touching us now, where He is leading us. We can begin to see a pattern and a continuity in our lives of faith. Above all, we be-come more aware of the profoundest reality of our lives, namely that which we possess of the power and love of God that has worked within us in the past and continues to be operative in the present. Discernment in prayer, then, is an ongoing process that seeks to find God and His will in our lives; it involves a constant seeking of God and an awaren(ss of His presence in our lives. Through discernment one seeks to hear God's continuous call, to recognize it as clearly as possible in order to follow it as faithfully and generously as possible. It seeks to answer the question: How can I best love and serve God in the present circumstances of my life. It is an ongoing process because our lives, our experience, our work, our relationship with God is an ongoing process. His Word does not come to us in a vacuum but in the concrete circumstances of our everyday lives. As Thomas Merton says in one of my favorite passages from his writings: Every moment and every event of every man's life on earth plants some-thing in his soul. For just as the wind carries thousands of winged seeds, so each moment brings with it germs of spiritual vitality that come to rest im-perceptibly in the minds and wills of men. Most of these unnumbered seeds perish and are lost, because men are not prepared to receive them; for such seeds as these cannot spring up anywhere except in the good soil of freedom and love.3 aThomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions, 1961), p. 14. Prayer: The Context of Discernment / 269 In a very true sense, it is only the faith-filled person, the contemplating person that is acutely sensitive to these seeds of God in his or her life. And for the soil of freedom and love to flourish in our own lives, we must con-stantly open ourselves to the Spirit of God through an abiding spirit of prayer. Not only must we seek to grow sensitive to God's speaking to us in the external events of our lives, but we must seek to grow in an awareness and sensitivity to the movements within ourselves as we react personally to the signs of His will and presence. How do my present reactions corre-spond to the felt experience of God that has been so much a part of my life in the past? Are my present movements in resonance with that source of peace, that sense of oneness and wholeness before God that I have ex-perienced before, that sense of belonging to God that has been so nourish-ing and sustaining in my life? Are they consistent with the normal signs of the Spirit working within us, the signs of "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, humility and self-control" (Gal. 5:22-3)? These are some of the questions one seeks to clarify in order to fulfill the desire to seek and find the Lord and His will. The spiritual director can play an important role in assisting here, for at times we can be too close to ourselves to have the needed objectivity. The director can aid us in clarifying and objectifying our own experiences and interior movements and aid us to see where God is touching us, loving us, and indicating His presence and His will. A Sense of Freedom In addition to a deep and constant spirit of prayer, discernment also requires an attitude of freedom and detachment. The attitude of freedom I refer to is that which allows a person to give to God and His will the central place in one's life;, it is a freedom and detachment from all other things that would either prevent or hinder one's striving to focus On God. It is the sense of freedom that allows God to become and remain the cen-tral reality in one's life. The Psalmist speaks of this centrality with the words: "As the eyes of the servant are on the hands of the Master, so my eyes are on you, O Lord." It is the freedom that allows one to respond generously to Jesus' invitation to Matthew, "Come, follow me," and His words to the disciples of John the Baptist, "Come and see." Come and see and taste the goodness of the Lord. It is the freedom expressed in the words of the prophet Samuel, "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening" (1 Sam 3:10), and the words of the Psalmist, "Here am I, Lord, I come to do your will" (Ps 40:7-8). We might note in passing that there can be an intimate connection between this spirit of freedom and a lifestyle that is marked by a spirit of simplicity. How does one grow in this spirit of freedom? Ultimately it is through a cooperation with the power of God's grace and love working within us. 270 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 But one important way is through a deepening realization that one is a loved sinner, that one has been touched and healed. A profound convic-tion of God's steadfast love and fidelity can be a very liberating force that enables one to turn to God and seek Him alone and His service in a spirit of simplicity and joy. This freedom grows in a context of lively faith and is nourished in prayerful reflection on God's goodness, mercy, love, and providence. Conclusion In general, discernment in prayer is an inward looking process; the focus is mainly on the movements and experiences of God within us. But the process must never stop here for there should also be an outward dimension of discernment. First of all, as in so many areas of the spiritual life of man, a healthy norm is: "By their fruits you shall know them." There is a confirmatory aspect of all discernment in the external fruits that are in evidence and the good works that are produced. Secondly, the great commandment,of love must always be kept in perspective, and a deepening union with God should lead to a deepening union with one's fellow man. An increasing sense of compassion for one's fellow man and his needs should flow from one's union with God. Finally, the process should lead to an increasing sensitivity to life and all its mysteries, to an increasing awareness of.God's presence in all things, and to our own growth as-con-templatives in action. A Norwegian Outpost: Maria Einscete M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. Father M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., is a Cistercian monk of St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, Massachusetts 01562. Our plane put down at Oslo and I soon bungled my way through customs, only .to find--no one. Communications had gotten a bit confus(d and now there was no one there. But everyone I asked seemed t6 know of him: "Brother Robert, yes, the hermit. He lives up in the mountains near Lake Tinn." And so I began my pilgrimage. Ten o'clock the next night I stepped down from a bus in the pouring rain and made bold to ask the young lady who alighted with me the oft repeated question: "Where is Brother Robert? . That way," she answered with a bold sweep of the arm as her hand pointed up a dark rise of conifers. I turned in the opposite direction to the friendly lights of an inn. It was a good choice. There among the youths gathered around the blazing fire was Jan. A couple years earlier he had been up to see the hermit with his pastor. He offered to be my guide. Good to his word, Jan arrived early the next morning with his little Volkswagen which took us as far as it could. Then we began to climb on foot. I was a bit embarrassed when Jan took my bag, but soon I was very grateful that he had--for otherwise I probably would never have made it. We must have climbed steadily, along an old logging trail, for forty-five minutes or more when Jan sudde.nly stopped and pointed back into the woods. We had actually passed our goal: Maria Einscete--Mary's Hermit-age. Maria Einscete was just a simple log cabin, one just like so many others in those forests. Larid in Norway belongs to the owner by hereditary right. It cannot be "definitively alienated. Most families living in the villages or on the lowland farms own stretches of woodland up on the mountains. 272 / Review ]or Religious, l,'olume 33, 197/.'-/2 In better times they kept men up there ,to care for the woods, but now most of these lumberjack's cabins are empty. One of these landlords, a kindly man, let Brother Robert use his abandoned cabin, plant some vege-tables, and dig a well. From the United States to Chile and to Norway Brother Robert, Father Robert Kevin Anderson, is a monk of St. Joseph's Abbey, Spencer, Massachusetts. He entered the Cistercian Order at the Abbey of Our Lady of the Valley back in 1949 when he was 17. He was one of the first choir novices professed after the community trans-ferred to Spencer. Frater Kevin, as he was called in those days, cared for the newly planted orchards and, after his ordination to the priesthood, for the newly planted brothers--as father master of the lay novices. But he had always experienced an attraction toward a more simple and radical form of monasticism. He went on to pursue this, first at St. Benedict's Monastery in the Colorado Rockies, then at the Monastery of Las Condes in the Chilean Andes. It was at the latter monastery that he first embarked on the eremitical life which he found to be his true calling. Later Father Robert sought deeper solitude in southern Chile; but the bishop there had some ideas of his own about how Father was to lead the eremitical life. So Father moved on to the land of his family's origins, Sweden. Here again, a hard-pressed bishop with few priests had his own ideas how a hermit-priest should live. And again Father moved, this time across the border to the diocese of the sympathetic and understanding Cistercian bishop, John Gran of Oslo. Until he could find a suitable site, Father Robert lived in a distant parish. Soon he found what seemed like an ideal place for a hermit: an island on Lake Tinn. But appearances can be deceiving. Living on an island meant dependence on others for all supplies, or keeping a boat for summer and an ice sleigh for winter. Then, too, the fine summer weather brought traffic to the lake. Father lifted up his eyes to the mountains, and soon ascended to Maria Einscete. The Hermit Life o| Father Robert Although feature articles and TV presentations have made Father Robert known throughout Norway and even throughout Scandinavia, he yet receives few visitors. The Norwegians respect and are inspired by his life of prayer and presence to God. They do not want to intrude. Besides, the ascent is difficult and the way known to few. The Catholic pastor, whose parish extends for several hundred miles, calls in from time to time. And of course, the good sisters find their way there at times; also, the search-ing young--from as far away as south France or America. Priests have occasionally come for retreat. And a pious convert lives not far from Father's mailbox and enjoys having him in to say Mass in her front room. A Norwegian Outpost: Maria Einscete / 273 But usually Bror Robert (as the Norwegians call him) is alone with his goats and his God. He goes down to the road to the mailbox every few days--and the owner of the neighboring box watches to see that the mail is collected, a sign that all is well with their hermit. Once a week or so, on skis in winter and a motor bike in summer, Father will go to the village for supplies. All the villagers know and love their hermit. They expressed real joy when "Brother Robert's brother" came to visit him. From time to time Father goes to Oslo to speak to the Dominican nuns, the only con-templative community in Norway. And once a year he goes south to the French Abbey of Mont-des-Cats to see his spiritual father. This was one of the conditions the bishop placed on his presence in the diocese as a hermit: that once a year he would spend some time in a monastery. Father Robert's life is very simple. He prays the hours quite as they always have been celebrated in the monastery, and offers Mass for all man-kind. He does some wood carving, mounts ikons, and practices the ancient Norwegian craft of weaving baskets from birch roots. He also translates books. He is a gifted linguist and has mastered both new and old Nor-wegian, as well as the local dialect. These occupations, along with Mass stipends, help him to keep body and soul together. At the time of my first visit Father Robert had been living in his log cabin for about a year. The only facilities were the woods. He had dug a well nearby and so had plenty of good water. But he confessed to me that he spent most of his time during that first winter chopping firewood--for his cabin had no inner walls and was very difficult to heat. The Spencer community helped him then to get a logger's caravan, which is not only much more snug and easier to heat, but which Father was able to locate higher up on the mountain where he can benefit from much more sunshine. The view from the new location, looking out across Lake Tinn to Mount Gaustaf, one of the highest peaks in southern Norway, is simply magnifi-cent. As the rays of the sun play on clouds, mountains, lake, and forest one is ceaselessly awed. This is indeed a Godly place--an ideal place for a hermit. The Monastic Presence of Father Robert This extension of Spencer Abbey and of the American Cistercian Re--' gion, this foothold of Cistercian life in Norway, is certainly something for which we should be most grateful and praise the Lord. The effectiveness of Father's monastic presence cannot be fully evalu-ated but it is certainly significant. This is rather surprising in a country where most are at best nominal members of a state church, and the few, very scattered Catholics tax the handful of devouted priests and religious who seek to minister to them. The latter, without exception, seemed to ad-mire and respect Father and find inspiration in his fidelity to his particular calling. But the Lutherans, too, revere him and seem to be grateful and 274 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 happy .that this man of God is in their midst. They relate stories of her-mits and monks who lived in this land before the Reformation and the Danish oppression, even of a particular hermit in the area of Lake Tinn. Even for these apparently religiously indifferent, ,the man of prayer living alone on the mountain is a sign of hope, of something better, higher, tran-scendent. And when the final option comes, hopefully, with perhaps only a vague and confused idea of what he stands for in their minds, and the grace flowing from his prayer in their hearts, they will reach out for that Transcendent Reality. Blessed be the Lord God . . . he has raised up a horn of salvation for Norway. Now that there is a Cistercian bishop and hermit, in Norway may we not soon have a regular cenobitic foundation? It is time the Cistercians returned. The Cistercians first directed their steps to Norway back in the twelfth century, in the Golden Age of the Order. And there are still significant remains ~of their presence. On the Island of HoevedCya in the Oslo Fjord, just a short ferryboat ride from the capital, are the ruins of an abbey founded in 1147 from Kirkstall,. The whole outiine of the regular build-ings is there. The walls of .the church reach up ten and fifteen feet, and higher at the comer tower. Through the insisterice of 'Bishop Gran the government now preserves this site as a national monument. It is a very beautiful site indeed. But historical sites, no matter how beautiful, are not enough. The Church of Norway, like every other, needs for its fullness the presence of living and thriving contemplative communities. Guided by the Lord, Brother Robert has made a beginning. May the Lord prosper what he has begun. Reflections on Bangalore Sister Mary-John Mananzan, O.S.B. From October 14-22, 1973, the Second Asian Monastic Congress was held in Banga-lore, India. Sister Mary-John Mananzan, O.S.B., attended the meeting and gives here her impressions of the Congress. Sister Mary-John is Dean; St. Scholastica's College; P.O. Box 3153; Manila, Philippines. This will not be a report on the Bangalore Congress in the usual sense, but rather a reliving of significant experiences and a sharing of insights gained. No amount of faithful reporting can capture the atmosphere of such a meeting. But .perhaps the sharing of one's impressions can give a glimpse into the dynamics of the ievent much more than a complete but detached description 9f the proceedings. Personalities Let me begin with the significant people who made an impression on me. Among the observers to the Congress were two Tibetan monks who rePr, ds.ehted thee Dalai Lama. They were Lama Sherpa Tulku and Lama Samdong Tulku. The one word that ke'eps coming to my mind to describe them is "genuine." I was struck by their authenticity, their trueness to them-selves, their utter lack of pretense. They went about with serene dignity, quiet friendliness~ and unfailing self-mast6ry. They talked with perfect frankness about the problems of their people in exile with feeling but with-out the slightest rancor againsl~ the invading Chinese. And with disarming simplicity, one of them asked in our small group discussions: "Please ex-plain to us what you mean by a personal God." The theological jar~gon did not seem to satisfy them, so during the coffee break I ventured an explana-tion which ran something like this: "Lama Sherpa, do you sometimes talk to the Absolute Reality?" 275 276 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 "Yes," he replied. "Do you think he understands you?" "Yes." "Well, that is more or less what we mean when we say that God is a person." He seemed to be more satisfied with this explanation. The lamas had a way of expressing their ideas in an unusually effective way. During the discussion on prayer Lama Samdong Tulku made the following remark: "I.got the impression that when you pray, you send your words to the Absolute Reality. We, we push ourselves to It." Another personality which, for me, stood out, was Abbot Primate Rem-bert Weakland himself. He was a most excellent presiding officer; more-over, his introductory and concluding talks showed his keen intelligence, his versatile scholarship, and his sobriety of judgment. He was most human. He joked with the seminarians of the Kristu Jyoti College where we stayed as though he were one of them but without losing his dignity. In fact I ob-served in him something I seldom observe in many superiors today--an unembarrassdd awareness of his authority and an unapologetic reference to it when he considered it useful to do so. Among the non-Asians who had adopted the Eastern way of monastic life, the one I considered most credible was Father Bede Griffiths. He went about in a most unobtrusive, unostentatious way without the slightest effort to edify or to preach. I find this significant because I felt that there can be a tendency among non-Asians who have insights about the indigenization of monastic life and liturgy which are in themselves authentic, to be over-zealous and therefore tactless in their efforts to conscienticize the people whose culture they have studied and adopted. I believe that there can be a very naive, uncritical adaptation to indigenous culture which, if cohpled with a lack of delicacy in strategy, could alienate the people because it ap-pears to them to be another and a subtler form of paternalism. When this is further accompanied by efforts to edify, then the people are positively repelled. Then one provokes reactions which may sound extreme and de-fensive, but are not wholly unjustified like: "Why do they give themselves to be more Eastern than the Easterns?" The adaptation of the Eastern forms of monasticism by monks and nuns in Asia is an important venture; but this must be undertaken with utmost delicacy, tactful strategy, and with what perhaps for Westerners will amount to an almost intolerable amount of patience. I was enriched by the friendship with Vietnamese monks and nuns who shared with me their spiritual adventures. They have left their b!g monas-teries in the hillsides and have come to live among the poor in the center of the city of Saigon. The nuns take in laundry and typing work to support themselves and the monks take turns in tricycle driving. Reflections on Bangalore / 277 The Theme of the Congress The theme of the Congress was: "The Experience of God." This was divided into subtopics .such as: Monastic Experience of God in Christianity and Other Religions; The Experience of God: Methods of Realization; The Experience of God in Community Life; The Influence of Asiatic Religious on Monastic Structure; The Experience of God and Social Responsibility; and The Contribution of Christian Monasticism of Asia to the Universal Church. These were discussed in small groups as well as in the general assemblies. Again I will not make an effort to summarize the discussions but rather pick out those which had an impact on me. First of all, I regained my respect for the word "monastic." Due to certain historical factors, the word "monastic" in certain circles had come to mean deportment, a pattern of behavior and a fuga mundi attitude. In the Congress, the main emphasis was on the single-minded search for God. There is a monastic dimension to every human being. For those who have come to an awareness orbit and who wish to fulfill this dimension of their being, there should be monastic communities whose structures are flexible enough to share their way of life even on a temporary basis. At this point, it is good to mention.what Bishop D'Souza expressed as the petition of the Indian hierarchy. The Indian hierarchy, he said, is asking the monastic communities to be: 1. eschatological signs (monks and nuns should primarily be men and women of God) 2. centers of liturgy 3. havens of serenity 4. examples Of simplicity of life and refinement 5. model communities for Christian living 6. houses of undiscriminating hospitality One thing that was realized in the Congress was the contribution that the non-Christian form of monasticism can give to the traditional Christian monastic" life. There are several elements of the Eastern form of monasti-cism which have been forgotten or not emphasized enough in the Western tradition. There is, for example, the importance of the techniques and meth-ods in the search for the Absolute. The role of the body in prayer that is very much emphasized in Yoga and Zen could'be given the same impor-tance by Christian monks and nuns. The existential view of the Absolute and the unified view of reality of the East could balance the more con-ceptual and dualistic view of the West. The importance of the guru in Eastern spirituality can likewise revitalize the role of the spiritual director. Father Raymond Pannikar summarizes the unique role of the East thus: "Just as Africa's contribution to the Church is sensitivity to creation and that of the West,. the discovery of the value of history; so the unique con-tribution of the Asian is to develop the dimension o] the spirit." 278 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 Shared Prayer The Congress was not just a series of intellectual discugsions on the experience of God: It was for many participants something of a spiritual experience in itself. Contributing tO these was, first, the shared liturgy which the different regional groups prepared, giving the ~vhole community an ex-perience of a variety of. indigenous liturgy "Indian, Vietnamese, Korean, Chinese. There were likewise opportunities to meditate in the, Zen' way, the Yoga way, the Tibetan Buddhist way, and in Christian shared prayers. Amid the variety of methods, ceremonies, symbols, °and gestures there was the unity of hearts in worship.~And then there were the interpersonal en-counters which occasioned the sharing of spiritual experiences, the creating oLbonds which gave the promise of lasting friendships.~There was thus the wonder of discovery of the other in each other. There were no resolutions, conclusions, or statements at the end of the Congress. As Father Abbot Primate said, Bangalore was more humble in its tone than the Bangkok Congress. Its open-endedness is a challenge to further reflection and to further action. And this challenge was expressed in the delegates' message to their communities which reads as follows: Message to Our Communities Together with Father Abbot Primate, Rembert Weakland, we, , gathered here at Bangalore for the Second Asian Monastic Congress, salute you with an Indian greeting:which echoes in our liturgy, SHANTI, PEACEF ,~ We would like to share with you the atmosphere of joy, openness and fraternity that prevails in this community, which grow out of peoples of dif-ferent backgrounds, not only of race and culture, but also of religious tradi-tion. We are fortunate to have at our meeting Cl~ri~tia'n monks and sisters of various countries, Tibetan lamas, Buddhist and Jain mdnks and Hindu swamis and sanyasis. We lived together, 'praying and discussing in mutual enrichment. We are amazed to realize that, amid very real differences of opinions and experiences, there is an overwhelming convergence of concern: THE SINGLEMINDED SEARCH FOR GOD. It is in this conce.rn ~that we experience a strong bond of unity. We consider it our task as monks to commit ourselves wholehea.rtedly to this search, and it is in this context that we accept the world around us and feel h sense o.f sol!darity with it. We have a role in bt~iiding up the city of man. This consigts in pointing out to man the path to God. In particular, we are to share with the poor in theii-°striving for human dignity and liberty. It has become clear to us that to realise these goals i.n our times calls for a radical openness.and flexibility in our religious life and structures. We are in a moment of challenge. If we fail to respond, we lose our right to exigt as monasteries. Your delegates will bring home to:you reports of the proceedihgs of the Congress. Understandably, these will kive but a glimpse into what really happened here. But, for many of us, this Congress has been a: real spiritual experience. ,.Your delegates can communicate this experience more effectively than any written .report. It is our earnest prayer that all the communities scattered throughout Asia will put into effect the insights gained during this Congress. Tliis may mean breaking away from fixed patterns, settink out like Abraham ihto ff new land. Reflecffon~ on Bangalore / 279 We strongly recommend openness to our brothers of other religious traditions who, as we have experienced here, have so much to offer us. We urge the rethinking of our way of life so that as many people as possible may have the opportunity of sharing with us our experience of God within the content of living and vital communities. Let us maintain the bonds of unity which have been established among us through our delegates. During these days we have thought of you and prayed for you. May our continued unity in prayer be fostered by renewed contacts with one another. Toward a More Authentic Sharing in Community Laurent Boisvert, O.F.M. Father Laurent Boisvert, O.F.M., is the editor of the excellent Canadian magazine for religious, La vie des corntnunaut~s religieuses and lives at 5750, boulevard Rose-mont; Montreal 410, Quebec; Canada. The article originally appeared in the March 1973 issue of La vie des communaut~s religieuses and is printed in translation here with the authorization of that magazine. The translation was made by Sister Clarisse Marie, S.N.J.M.; General Administration of the Sisters of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary; 187 Chemin de Cap-St.-Jacques; Pierrefonds 940, P.Q.; Canada. The sharing of material goods, based on the needs of each individual or moral person, tends to express and intensify the fraternal bond which unites us as religious. However, in everyday living this sharing meets with ob-stacles which compromise, in varying degrees, its fraternal character. A review of them will help us to become more conscious of them and so favor, I hope, the building of that community of justice, peace, and love which all of us desire and which alone can tnaly be called "fraternal." It is not rare to hear religious ask themselves: How does it happen that our lives are so little changed by the many conferences, sessions, and work-shops in which we participate? These same religious insist that we present them not so much the fundamental values of religious life which they say they already know, but rather a way of integrating them into their lives. The reflections which follow relate to this first step: the "how" of living a more genuine fraternal community life, a step which consists in over-coming in oneself the chief obstacles to its realization. False Mental Attitudes When we insist, before community groups, that a distribution of goods 2110 Authentic Sharing in Community / 2111 be made according to the needs of each, some religious express amazement. It seems useless to them that we should come back to so fundamental an issue, and one that everyone accepts. No one can deny, however, that in spite .of acceptance in theory, certain religio.us, and a number sufficiently large to warrant the mentioning of it again, demand for themselves the use of all kinds of things, basing these requests, not on real need, but rather on the fact that other religious have and enjoy the use of. them. If someone has such and such a thing for his work, goes out so many times during the week, or wears clothing of such and such a quality, etc., others use the example of such religious to justify having the same things and acting in like manner. If one group needs two cars, another group made up of the same number of people will perhaps demand one, just because the first group has two, How can we explain this dichotomy between the theory of sharing goods according to need, and the contrary practice illustrated by the examples just given? The reason is, it seems to me, that the criterion for the distribution of goods, recognized at the intellectual level, has not yet penetrated the mentality of all religious nor modified their attitudes and their conduct. Certain religious accept the idea of pluralism in the forms of sharing, but their reactions are those of people accustomed to a uniform type of sharing. They still lack that which, for all of us, is most difficult to realize, namely a change of attitude. No modification of structures, how-ever radical, can dispense a religious from the effort required to bring.about this conversion. It is easier and faster to set up pluralistic structures for sharing than it is to transform a person accustomed to uniformity so that he becomes capable of understanding, of respecting and of favoring diversity on the level of persons and their needs, and of making the necessary applications. All of which helps us to understand that if, in our congregations, the adaptation of structures has in large measure been accomplished, the con-version of our ways of thinking has not. Some years of effort will still be necessary, years of patience and of tolerance, before the transformation of mental attitudes and of conduct becomes a reality. In spite of everything, some people will never know such a transformation, because they believe that such a change is an evil and not a benefit to be pursued. Charity re-quires that we respect them, and that we learn to live with them, in the wis-dom and great-heartedness of compromise which, under its° positive forms, is love. Inability to Estimate One's Needs Accurately It is not sufficient to want to share a community of goods according to the real needs of each one. For the actual realization of this principle one must be able to evaluate tfiese needs honestly and accurately. Some religious are more or less incapable of making such an evaluation. For some, the reason lies in the formation they received as young religious and the long 2112 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 practice of a poverty based on dependence. They had only to ask and to leave ,to ,authority to judge the legitimacy of their request. Once the su-perior had given an affirmative answer, they never questioned themselves again about their use of the things granted. -This dependence,, judged in our day excessive, has atrophied the sense of responsibility"of some and made them quite unable to determine their own needs: Today, when au-thority leaves them free to choose such and such a thing,, to do or not do such and such an. action, to go or not to go to such and such a place, they prefer no action at all rather then assume responsibility for it. Long and difficult will be,the liberating process which will one day enable them to judge their own needs, if~ such will ever be possible. ~ C-Certain religious, coming from poor families and having, lacked some of the basic necessities during their childhood, make up,for lost time and accumulate without reason a surplus of goods. They:even admit that they ask for things to make up for the lack of them experienced in the past.And so they fill their closets with items.for, which they have,no real need, but which give them a sort of psychological security. In this Way they com-pensate for the time when they sutIeredreal want. ~ ,, For other religious, the practice of a poverty consisting of going with-out, of detailed restriction for use; of meticulous control and uniformity, has brought ab6ut another ,excessive reaction in that they,are constantly asking .for things they don't really need and of which they never .seem to have enough. At the other extreme are those who considered this former practice of poverty the ideal one, and so refuse to accept any form of com-munal sharing based on a pluralism of real needs. Using False Criteria Again, for some religious, the relative incapacity of identifying their real needs results from the use of false criteria. They will say, in, order to justify a trip: all my brothers and,sisters went to such aoplace, though an-other might say~ with just as much truth: I cannot make that .trip since none of my brothers and sisters have ever been there. Can the single fact :that one's relatives have visited Europe constitute a ,valid reason for asking for a trip overseas? Or again, can the simple fact that one's parents have never taken:~some scenic trip within the province or state:~be sufficient reason for denying oneself ,such an outing? In both cases, the use .of the "family" norm, instead of helping, hinders the discovery of real needs. That one consider the situation of one's family is certainly not wrong, but to use it as the sole means of defining orie's Own needs and the ~type of relaxation one has a right to seek is certainly without justification. These .conclusions apply .likewise .to one's social and professional posi-tion. There are people who count on the life style of ~this double milieu to determine personal needs. If they: live inca neighborhood where~each family averages one or two color-television~, sets, a summer cottage', a snowmobile Authentic Sharing in Community / 2113 or~ two, etc., they think that they too have a right to these same things and wi!l use them, under the illusion that they are living their commitment to po~verty.,lf th~ey work in the.~schools or hospitals and if the majority~of their companions go to Florida every year, wear a new outfit every day, etc., they come to believe that such is Lequired of them too, and in their minds these things become necessities that must be satisfied. The fallacy .of such ~rea.soning comes,from the setting up of one's .social or professional sur-roundings as an absolute ~in determining personal needs. It ought to be evi-dent that even if all the teachers of the school have a car, and if all the families in the area have two television sets, I do not necessarily need the same things. It also ha.ppens that this met.hod of evaluating needs ac.cord-ing to a social or professi0nal milieu soon involves various forms of dis-crimination, ail.harmf.ul to .the ,building of a fraternal community. Let us add that economy, valid as it may be, often prejudices one?s judgment of personal needs. To know how to economize is a quality that most people of average means acquire through° force of circumstances, That religious should possess, it is nother surprising nor embarrassing.;Waste-fulness and .extravagance, as well as carelessness, have always been,.con-sidered faults. The error, in the case of the religious, is to purchase things, not because ~one may need them, but because they are on sale and that per-haps one day they will be useful. It is also true that this intention of econo-mizing has a way of multiplying needs. The Influence of Numbers ,, In visiting a number of local commu~nities I ~have ~liscovered that re-ligious in small groups have their real needs satisfied much more easily than do religious in.larger gr.oups: Although not universal, this situation is repre-sentativ, e of a number of congregations. Of course, there are many cases in which it is reasonable and necessary ¯ to take numbers, into consideration. For example, if the local authority in a community of one hundred persons is planning an outing which includes transportation and lunch~ it is obvious that one must consider the number of those who wish to participate. The influence of numbers can, however, become harmful to community sharing when., a particular type .of logic prevails as sometimes happens in larg~ groups, though it. may also be found in more restricted ones, too. For example, two or three religious.desire to obtain skis in order to satisfy.a real need for relaxation, so they go to the local authority with their req.uest only to receive this answer: I cannot authorize such an expenditure; just think of the money involved if the sixty religious of the house were to come asking for skis! This reasoning characterizes a mentality which cerl~ainly is not pluralistic ,'and which fails to respect personal needs. That two or three religious desire some skis in no way implies that all the others need or even wish them. The falseness of this reasoning is even more evident Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 when we realize that the community is made up for the most part of older people or of those who are ill. On pushing this kind of logic to the extreme, one ought to refuse a wheelchair to a sick person who really needs one because everyone else might want one too. This type of reasoning may also exist among some members of the community group. They refrain from asking for what they really need be-cause they say: If everybody were to ask for such a thing, the community could not afford it. However, it is nowhere written that all the religious of a house must have the same needs at the same time, and that to satisfy them one must buy sixty canes or sixty wigs at the same time! Why, then, should we suppose this uniformity and always act in view of the total num-ber? Wherever this kind of logic dominates, whether on the part of the superior or of the members of the group matters little, it makes impossible the practice of community sharing according to need. The Moral Weight of Salaries The religious earning a high salary seems to have a special facility for getting what he needs and often more than he needs, while the one who makes no financial contribution is sometimes too embarrassed to make known real needs. Other variants of this phenomenon are these: The re-ligious in a salaried service who works overtime may think it his right to keep and to use as he pleases at least a part of the extra money so earned; the one who has won a grant or money award will not fail to exploit his chance of obtaining favors; the religious who receives an "old-age pension" and the one who regularly draws some form of income may also use these to obtain personal advantages. The moral weight of money earned by a religious' likewise risks in-fluencing the decisions of the superior. Does he feel as free and no more obligated in evaluating the requests of the one who hands in a substantial check than he does in judging those requests made by members who make no such contribution? It would not be surprising if, in the first case, he finds a particular facility in saying "yes" at once and with a smile, while in the second case, he has a tendency to ask questions about the necessity of the items requested and to multiply his reflections on the observance of poverty. In allowing a lapse of time between turning in one's check and making a request for what one judges useful or necessary, the religious can help those in authority to avoid showing favor and granting to him as to the others only what he really needs. At the provincial level we occasionally see this tendency in operation in those cases in which authority tends to discriminate between local groups of varying incomes. Groups with significant revenues sometimes receive more easily the authorization for extra expenditures than another poorer group, though the actual needs of the two groups may be identical. If such is the case, it is evident that discrimination is practiced in dealing with local Authentic Sharing in Community / 285 groups, a situation very detrimental in the realization of a truly fraternal community. The Matter o~ Gi~ts It also happens that the reception of gifts sometimes prevents sharing according to need. The religious, benefiting from the generosity of family or friends, is often better provided for than the one who must depend solely on the community. In order to justify the keeping or the use of things received, the religious reasons that he got them gratuitously when he ought rather to be motivated by real need. If our poverty permits us to accept gifts, they must nevertheless be used for all without discrimina-tion. This means that the religious may not have more because he receives more, but that all needs be judged by the same standard and that all be treated in the same manner. Whether the .goods to satisfy our needs comes from within or from outside the community is of lesser consequence. Two other observations must be made here in regard to gifts. Certain religious still declare that the refusal of anything offered to them by their parents, friends, or others, always constitutes a failure against poverty, indeed an injustice to the congregation. As it stands, this statement is inaccurate. The refusal of certain goods offered is sometimes required by our commitment to poverty. Such is the case when an individual or moral person does not need that which is offered, and in addition, the donor re-fuses any transfer of his gift. Such is likewise the case when, in response to a real need, a religious is offered something which can in no way be justified by the norms of simplicity. The second observation bears on the "intention of the donor." The intention clearly expressed by the donor does not suppress or replace the authorization required for the keeping and the use of goods. A religious cannot go to Europe simply because his parents have given him~the money for the trip. If competent authority refuses him" the permission and if the intention of the parents about the destination of their gift remains fixed, there is nothing left for the religious to do but to refuse or to return the money. However, in the majority of cases, it is not necessary to be scrupulous about respecting the intention of the donor. Many people offer us small gifts (the notion of "small" varies considerably, of course) and say to us: This is for you, for your personal needs, clothing, recreation, etc. If we took the time to explain our way of life to them as a community sharing a common fund, they would probably be quite happy to allow one of our companions to benefit from their generosity.Though we rarely explain this to them, we can ordinarily, without any qualms of conscience, pre-sume their understanding acceptance and put in the common fund what-ever we receive. 2116 / Revie.w for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 On the contrary, the intention of the °donor must be respected when the gift is made in the form of an inheritance or legacy. Let us make clear, however, that the religious to whom these goods have been offered alway~ has the right to refuse them. He even has the duty to do so in a case in which the, acceptance of an inheritance or legacy, involves obligations ~otaily or partially in violation of his religious 9ommitments. We must also understand that. authority does sometimes have a word to say in our ac-ceptance or refusal of such goods. The Moral Weight of Competence, Position, and Conduct In this matter of sharing, the professional status of religious some-times operates in his favor. Experience shows that in certain cases the religious~ ,possessing special qualifications obtains what he needs more easily than does his confrere who lacks such competence; he may even receive a ~urplu~ while the other is deprived of basic necessities. We have no intention of condemning competence; but under pain of closing our eyes to reality, we must acknowledge that this competence does sometimes exercise a moral influence on those presenting their needs, inclining them to ask for more than they really need. It may also influence those whose role is to insure .a just distribution of material resources in their application of the principle of real need. Experience0shows us that a past office may become another pretext for keeping and us_ing certain goods. The religious whose work required a specialized library, for example, may have a strong inclina.tion to keep it even after he no longer occupies the position which once required it. The one who needed a car for his work will be tempted to continue to keep it even after he is transferred to another office which in no way requires its use. Certain personal itnd marginal benefits connected with having a car make it very .painful for him to give it up. Again it may happen that one's present position Fay serve as an oc-casion for the granting or obtaining.of favors either for self or for others. Thus a superior, as soon as he is named,.,may ask for a ~'oom with a bath attached. Is this to help him fulfill his office"moi'e efffctively? Is such an installation really needed for his work? If not, how can he justify requesting it for himself while refusing it to others. It is no more justifiabl~ for a superior to use the pretext of his office to receive and to keep as long as he wishes all the magazines that come to the house. How can one approve such action? If he were in charge of formation and if, with the consent of the community or of authority, he had a prior right or even exclusive right to the use of a magazine published for formation personnel, nobody would complain. But no one can accept, and with reason, that an individual in virtue of his office, keep for himself as long as he likes the newspapers and magazines :meant for the use of all. Such practice is an obstacle to fraternal sharing. The one whose function Authentic Sharing in Community is to build community ought to be the first to ~remove from his own life anything that might compromise it. Let me add as a last moral influence a particular type of conduct in which a few religious indulge when making a request to authority. Their tone, gestures, and manner in general can be so high-handed that it be-comes almost impossible for the superior to refuse, even when he judges superfluous the object requested. When dealing with such persons he per-haps says to himself: It is easier to grant them what they want at once than to put up with the endless scenes and references to the matter that they will make if it is denied them. The superior may even justify his action by saying that he consented in "order to avoid a greater evil. All the same, that will not prevent those in the community from believing that at times a dif-ficult disposition does get results. While we understand the delicate posi-tion of authority in these instances, we must also recognize that such con-duct on the part of a member of the group can be an obstacle to fraternal sharing as it prevents the application of the principle: each according to need. The Influence of Social Convention According to current styles and in varying degrees, social convention may also influence both the religious in determining his needs, and the su-perior whose role is to assure that fraternal dimension of communal shar-ing proper to a religious household. Ordinarily we find it easier to ask for those things~ accepted by social convention than for those outside it. The superior in turn has a tendency to authorize more quickly those things it approves than those which are indifferent or contrary, to it. In this way social convention sometimes exerts a destructive influence on the charitable quality which ought to characterize our sharing from a common fund ac-cording to individual needs. . In considering the influence of social convention on religious, it cer-tainly explains at least in. part their attitude toward smoking, for example. The religious who smokes normally receives the necessary tobacco even though the expense occasioned ma~, be as high as two or three hundred dollars a year. The need to smoke, createdand developed by him, no longer requires critical evaluation but is taken for granted; and when the com-munity budget is prepared, there is no hesitation about'setting aside im-portant sums for it. ~ : It is not at all,certain, on the other h~nd, that the philatelist would so easily be allotted a similar sum for the purchas.e of new stamps. How does it happen that we consent so easily to satisfy the needs of the one who smokes but refuse those of the stamp collector? The pressure of social con-vention would seem to be the exp!anation. Under pain of being considered out of step with the times, religious cannot ignore social convention completelyi but by conforming to it with- 2811 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 out discrimination they can create needs the satisfaction of which amounts to real slavery and causes surprise and even scandal to others. Religious ought to be free enough, for example, in the matter of dress to avoid mak-ing an absolute of an outmoded costume and to consider relative those fashions which social convention seeks to impose on them everyday. This relativity can be expressed in one's choice of classic styles, simple and few in number, and much less subject to frequent and costly change than those passing fads which are here today and forgotten tomorrow. If it is normal for religious to be aware of social usage and to observe it when in their exterior relations they judge it necessary or useful, they must make the necessary effort to prevent it from entering so deeply into their lives as to create an endless chain of new needs. Let it suffice to men-tion the use of alcoholic drinks. Rare are those social functions, meals, and evenings from Which these are absent. If the religious is not on his guard, in multiplying his social relationships, he risks developing an acute need for alcohol. In this case, satisfaction can never be regarded as liberation, but rather a most insidious form of personal slavery. A Lack of Empathy Lack of empathy is particularly noticeable on those occasions when a religious must submit to a superior or to other members of his group his personal needs in view of an evaluation or control. It may happen that one's first reaction is to make comparisons with one's own needs, forgetting that each one is unique and therefore different; And so the superior says: I don't understand why you want to buy this secular outfit; I don'~ wear one and I've never suffered from not doing so. Or again: I never went to hear such and such a singer; I don't see what advantage you can get out of an evening so spent. Such a person never tries to put himself in the position of the one asking in order to be better able to understand his needs. He seeks rather to impose his own values on the other person or again to convince him that he does not have such a need because as superior he himself never experienced it. Without exactly realizing it, the superior may set himself up as a sort of prototype whom the others would profit by imitating. In following this sort of logic, ought he not require others to be hungry at the same time he is and with the same intensity, to be sleepy when he is, and to require the same number of hours of sleep? People incapable of this empathy are quite unable to evaluate the needs of others. We might as well say at the same time that they do not know how to exercise the service of authority, since they will never be able to understand those whom they are supposed to help. They may think they understand others, but as a matter of fact they understand only that which they can project on others. In general the person with little empathy is intolerant, not through ill will, but through his inability to put himself Authentic Sharing in Community / 2119 in the position of others. In wishing them well, he may even impose on them things that may cause them serious harm. Exclusive or Prior Right to Use The use of certain equipment may be necessary for a religious in the fulfillment of his office. It is considered essential for his work and he could not give it up without compromising the task confided to him. Such usage is valid and his confreres readily accept his use of what is neces-sary; but if they see that he has reserved for his exclusive use things for which he has no real need, at least at certain times, feelings of discontent-ment and a sense of injustice are not slow in surfacing. An example will help to make my point clear. Let us suppose that my work requires the use of a car quite regularly. On the days when I don't have to make any trips, those times when I travel by plane, am I going to lock up the car when I could just as well let others use it? If I put the car in the garage and the keys in my pocket, and if I force my com-panions to take the bus for their trips when the use of a car would be much appreciated and a real convenience for them, can I say sincerely that I am living the principle of fraternal sharing? In order to justify my conduct, I can no doubt find many reasons: A car is something one doesn't lend to just anybody; I must keep the things I need for my work in good condition; no one knows how to take care of them as I do; it is often a costly business to lend one's equipment; thb community has other cars for general use; etc. Underneath these reasons, all of which contain some element of truth, there is perhaps another which I won't admit: an undue attachment which makes me a slave of this thing. Deep down I prefer its safekeeping to communion with my brothers. In fact, my refusal to put the car at their disposition, far from favoring inter-personal relations, risks destroying them altogether and setting up barriers which are difficult to break down. If, after such conduct, I dare to repeat that goods should be oriented toward the well-being of the group and the strengthening of mutual relations, I must admit that in practice I sub-ordinate persons to things. If in my work, instead of this exclusive right to the use of equipment, I exercise what may be called a prior right to its use, I will quickly come to realize to what degree this type of use and the mentality which it de-velops favor fraternal union. Nobody denies that there are certain incon-veniences in this kind of sharing, that one risks finding one's things out of order, not in the same condition as one left them, etc. However, be-fore committing myself to sharing, ought I wait until no such risks are involved? If so, I mi~ght just as well say categorically that I refuse to share. Of course, everyone recognizes the existence of an occasional case when it would be better to keep one's tools exclusively for personal use. Such exceptions, however, do not modify the general rule according to 290 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 which the religious ought to exercise a prior right rather than an exclusive one to the use of those things necessary for the accomplishment of his duties. The first recognizes and favors fraternal sharing, while the second usually cuts it off abruptly. The Proprietor's Mentality Every religious making use of community goods can say, and he has reason: This property belongs to me; it has been put at my disposition by a moral person called the "province" or "institute." He may be inclined per-haps, in ~order to justify his poverty before those who do not believe in it anymore, to exaggerate the inconveniences of such a situation and to keep silent about the advantages which it affords. Sometimes he will even cover up his possessive attitude with regard to certain things saying that they do not belong to him and therefore he cannot lend them. Under pain of deny-ing the evidence, we must admit that some religious seem to have a pro-prietor's mentality with regard to goods belonging to the province or in-stitute. Such a mentality is an obstacle to fraternal sharing. If, in order to illustrate my idea, I use the community treasurer as an example, it is not that this mentality is more widespread among them than among other religious, but because frequent reference is made to them when this topic is discussed. In fact, it often happens that the treasurer acts as if he were the proprietor of the community's goods. He feels free to ask ques-tions, even indiscreet ones, about the sums of money requested, while actu-ally it is his business simply to hand over what has been authorized. He scolds others for expenditures which he has no right to judge. He may even insist on an itemized account which normally is given to the superior. When he gives out money, his gesture is marked by a pained expression as if part-ing with it hurt him physicallly. If we describe it at its worst, we might say that in keeping the purse-strings, he seems to keep the whole community on a,.leash. This caricature, although rough!y drawn, is not entirely the fruit of the imagination. If I have exaggerated some situations, I have reproduced others with an accuracy that no one can deny. It is not surprising if religious, subjected to caprices of this kind, no longer dare ask the community even for what is necessary, but arrange to obtain it outside, or keep a part of their salary or gifts received, in order to satisfy their needs. The changing of the name "procurator" to "economist," "treasurer," "controller," or whatever, does not remedy the evil. The real problem is not one of vocabulary, but of one's way of thinking, and it is this that must be changed. The bursar must recognize, in theory and in practice, that the property confided to his administration belongs to the community., that his task consists in managing it with competence, and in distributing it amiably to religious whose needs have been approved by authority. His office must not be the scene of daily contention, but rather a place where love operates under the guise of both gift and welcome. Authentic Sharing in Commitnity / Let me express sincere appreciation to all those religious who fill their post as treasurer with competency, interior detachment, and in a spirit of service. Everyone knows that theirs is often a thankless task, and one we could not do without. In accomplishing it with that joy and tact which love knows how to exercise, they can do much towards the realization of the ideal of fraternal sharing according to the real needs of each one. Fear, Embarrassment, Shame, Scruples in Regard to Asking Strange as it may appear, there are still some religious who are unable to express their real needs, who prefer to deprive themselves of what they need rather than ask for it. These religious, either by temperament or for-mation, have developed in themselves a fear, an embarrassment, shame, or even scruples about asking. Among them are those who are not earning, and on this account dare not mention their needs. Some of them think of themselves as a burden to the community. While helping these religious to free themselves from whatever prevents them" from asking for what they need, authority must take the initiative, offering them and even giving them whatever they may need. If this is considered an exaggeration, it is better to fail on the side of kindness and attention than on that of indifference and privation. It is always easier to notice the people who abuse than those whom we abuse. There also exists on the part of some a certain shame and embarrass-ment about asking which may be the result of our manner of community living and sharing in the past. I understand the uneasiness of those of thirty, forty, fifty, and more who still ask local authority or the treasurer for stamps, letter-paper, tooth-paste, soap, etc., but such a practice of com, munity sharing can no longer be justified in the name of poverty. Though long since outmoded, it has not yet totally disappeared. In my opinion it would be so much simpler, so much more adult and reas6nable, to put all these things for common use in a place where each one could take what he needs as he needs it. It is useless to complain of possible abuse in order to refuse such an elementary practice. The existence of such abuse is inevitable, whatever the manner of living the principle of common sharing. Would it not be better that the abuses accompany an adult practice of sharing instead of a childish and embarrassing one? In conclusion on this point let me say that one of the gravest abuses of the practice of religious poverty is that form of dependence which encourages and even develops personal irresponsi-bility. The Application of Various Formulas for Sharing Though there are several formulas for the sharing of go~ds, I do not in-tend here to present the advantages and inconveniences of each. I wish only to point out that the manner of applying any valid formula is able to trans-form it into an obstacle to fraternal sharing. Take for example the individual 292 / Review ]or Religious, F'olume 33, 1974/2 budget. It is, for religious in general, a practical manner for determining needs and when approved, of receiving whatever is necessary to meet them. This does not mean, however, that such a formula is best for all the religious of an institute, or of a province, or of a local community. There are some people who find a personal budget more of a useless bother than a help in practicing religious poverty. Why impose it on them then? On the other hand, why forbid it to the rest of the community just because some do not find it helpful? In ~. word, fraternal sharing is not free when the individual budget is refused or imposed on all alike. In those communities in which, in order to respect personal needs, the community budget is made obligatory and the individual budget optional, uniformity may compromise the quality of fraternal sharing. As regards the community budget it is rare, thanks be to God, to hear people use the argu-ment of uniformity to obtain more, to grant or to refuse permission. Wherever uniformity is the sole criterion for making requests or granting authorization, fraternal charity in the treatment of local groups is often ignored. Though two communities may be made up of the same number of persons, it does not follow that the needs of one be identical to the needs of the other. To respect each group in its uniqueness requires ordinarily both diversity and plurality in the manner of treatment. It is the same for individuals. How can anyone justify uniformity in the amount of money granted annually to religious who make use of a budget? Let us take the matter of clothing, for example. The one who is small and well-built will surely have an advantage over another less well-proportioned, with bulges here and there, not to mention fiat feet! Some would remedy this situation by asking that the first person hand in what he has left over, and that the second ask for what he still needs. However, one must admit that the latter remains in an awkward position as it is always harder to ex-tend the hand to receive than to turn in a surplus. In the end, would it not be simpler and more charitable to leave each one free to evaluate his cloth-ing needs and to ask for the money necessary to take care of them. The individual budget plan by which a uniform lump sum is given to all religious also presents, in actual practice, certain facets detrimental to fraternal sharing. Let us suppose that each religious of a local community receives $2500 annually, and that it is left to him to allocate this sum as he sees fit. Such procedure risks creating unjustifiable inequality. Religious whose parents live a few miles away will spend very little to goto see them regularly, while another having parents living at a distance, can visit them only rarely and under pain of seriously jeopardizing his budget. Isn't this a form of discrimination? Another weakness inherent in this plan is that the religious who can economize will manage to procure all sorts of valuable objects (record-play-ers, tape-recorders, etc.) and will have the clear impression, even the con- Authentic Sharing in Community / 293 viction, that these belong to h, im. Of course, he will feel free to take them with him on changing residenc~. As a last obstacle to fraternal sharing, let me add the refusal a priori of approving several different plains and allowing them to be used within the local community as the memlSers judge best. One would respect individual needs more surely if some wer~ permitted to use an individual budget, while others were given an allowan+e for expenses, and still others received the money necessary as the need arose. There are some very deserving religious who do not have any use for a~ individual budget or for a regular allowance and who desire to continue to~ practice poverty by asking for things as they need them. We violate the fraternal quality of our sharing if we impose on them a plan which burdens rather than frees them in their service of God. Conclusion The practice of fraternal sfiaring to which we are bound bestows on our I . community of goods its evangehcal and religious significance. Indeed, it is in order to strengthen the fraiernal bond which unites us and to express it before the world that we have chosen to put all our possessions into a com-mon fund, and to share them according to the real needs of each one. The obstacles that this sharing mebts in practice prove that it is difficult for all of us, because of our sinful condition, to observe perfectly that which we desire with all our hearts. However, the rehg~ous who recognizes the diffi-culties and makes an effort to leliminate them from his life, demonstrates his faith in those values for whic~ the fraternal community stands and his de-sire to collaborate construct~ve, ly in building it, depending on the support of Jesus Christ, thecenter of oui" lives, for a more perfect realization of it. The General Chapter of Affairs Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., a specialist !n canon law for religious, writes from St. Joseph'.s Church: 321 Willing's Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Pre-chapter Preparation : Pre-chapter preparation, despite its evident need, was almost univer-sally unknown before post-Vatican II general and provincial chapters. The delegates'to the general chapter should be elected hbout a year before the assehably of the chapter. This will make it possible to have the pre-chapter committees constituted predominantly of chapter members from the begin-ning. The superior general and his council, or a committee appointed by him, could have already inaugurated the work by securing the proposals from the members of the institute and having them arranged according to subject matter. These could be given almost immediately to the pre-chapter committees. The delegates may be elected earlier than a date determined in the constitutions, e.g., six months before the assembly of the chapter. This determination of time is a very accidental aspect of the law, and a rea-sonable cause excuses from it. The more fundamental content of such a law is to elect the delegates at a time that will give the best possible preparation for the chapter. I think myself that a committee of more than five is gener-ally less efficient. If the quantity of the work so demands, several parallel or sub-committees can be designated. As many as possible of those on a com-mittee should be competent in the field of the committee. Each institute should know from its experience of recent chapters and from the problems now facing it just what committees are needed. There should be a steering or co-ordinating committee. Other committees have been on the religious life, vows, constitutions, government, liturgy, formation, apostolate, finances, 294 The General Chapter o] Affairs / 295 retirement, and habit. Canon law has no legislation on committees. There-fore, it depends on the particular institute to determine the committees and their work; the members and chairpersons may be elected or appointed or be designated partially by both election and appointment; the chairpersons may be elected by the members of the particular committee. Manner of Pre-chapter Committee Preparation The one directing the pre-chapter preparation gives the proposals or chapter matter to the chairpersons of the pertinent committees, who in turn distribute them to the individual members of the committees to ~work up, dividing the matter as evenly as possible. Let us suppose that the following proposal has been assigned to an individual of the government committee: the term of office of the superior general should be reduced from six to five (four) years, with only one immediate re-election permitted. The committee member is to work up a report on this proposal in the manner of a secretary, an objective researcher, not as a supporter or antag-onist of the proposal or as a policy maker. The chapter makes the decision on enactments and policy, not the committee. The first thing the committee member does is to write down the number of the proposal, if these are num-bered. Identical and almost identical proposals are to be treated together on the same report. The committee member therefore next notes on the report the number that submitted it, for:example: 36 handed in this proposal for a five and 15 for a four year term. He then expresses the proposal in one statement or in parts but both in such a way as to permit a yes-no discussion and a yes-no decision. He next, under the heading~of sense, gives any ex-planations of the proposal, always being complete throughout the report but as ~clear and brief as possible. Submitted proposals, are almost, always wordier and more obscure than the example given above, but the term "im-mediate" in the example above could be briefly explained. He could well conclude the section on sense by a statement such as the following: The pi'oposal contains two ideas, a five (four) instead o1~ a"six year term andonly one immediate re-election. The heart of his report is in the following sec-tion, in which he gives all~ the reasons for and then all the reasons against the proposal, noting when any of these reasons has greater weight for or against the four than the five year term. He ends the report with his recom-mended decision: to be accepted, to be rejected, to be accepted with modi-fications. It is evident that the reasons for the acceptance or rejection are the favorable or unfavorable reasons he has already listed. He should add his reasons for suggesting modifications. Copies of this report are distributed to all the committee members. They are to be given adequate time for its study. When a sufficient number of reports are ready, they are to be dis-cussed in a committee meeting. The committee confirms, rejects in whole or in part, and corrects the report of the individual member, which thus becomes the committee report. The committee vote on the report and its :296 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 distinct parts should be included on it, e.g., 3 for, 2 against. Reports for all the proposals to be discussed in any period of sessions should be ready be-fore that period begins. These should be distributed to the capitulars at least on their arrival so that they can be properly studied. The failure to have such reports is a primary cause for the many unreflecting, inefficient, and slow general chapters we have had in the post-Vatican II years. Any religious experienced in chapters should see the need of reports of the type described above. They are demanded by evident facts. The primary such fact is that a chapter should make its decisions from convictions based on solid reasons. This will certainly not be attained unless there is a thorough investigation and study of the facts and reasons. It is also a sufficiently evident and most pertinent fact that many of the capitulars will not study the proposals beforehand. The reports will help to lessen their uninformed voting. Many capitulars will not be able to understand some proposals with-out such a report, for example, those who have had no experience in han-dling large sums of money can find financial proposals difficult to understand, and a religious who has not been in the novitiate since he left it thirty years ago will find. many ideas on formation most difficult to grasp. Proposals handed in by chapter members during the chapter should be processed through the pertinent committee in the manner described above. Subject Matter of the General Chapter of Affairs The norm of the practice of the Holy See for this has been the more im-portant matters that concern the entire institute. If the matter is not more important or does not concern the entire institute, it appertains to the ordi-nary government of the general, provincial, or local superiors. In the con-crete this matter has consisted of the proposals submitted by the members, provincial chapters, and the general capitulars during the time of the general chapter. The first observation is that the proposals under one aspect can readily be insufficient. Almost universally the proposals on a particular matter do not touch, at least adequately, all the more important aspects, difficulties, and problems of the particular field. Quite often they are concerned only with its accidental and lesser aspects. Very frequently also the admittance of a proposal will demand as a consequence or antecedently presume another proposal which has not been submitted. In all such cases, the pertinent com-mittee should add the required proposals, noting on each its committee source and the reasons why it was submitted by the committee. It is not very intelligent to have the submitted proposals as the subject matter, with-out designating anyone to point out and supply for the omissions and the lack of balance. In such a system, it can be almost a mere accident that the general chapter faces all the real problems of the institute. There has to be a way of rejecting very expeditiously the proposals that are less important and general or otherwise evidently inadmissible. Each The General Chapter of Affairs / 297 committee should list all such proposals submitted to it, and very early sub-mit this list to the co-ordinating committee. The latter should go over the lists and have them duplicated and distributed to the chapter members. Sufficient time should be granted for the proper study of the lists, and the chapter is then to be asked to reject all of them in the one vote. The per-mitted recourse against rejection should be of the following type. If a capitu-lar, not the one who submitted the proposal as such, believes that any such rejected proposal is worthy of a committee report and chapter discussion, he should hand in this proposal with his reasons for its repeated presenta-tion. The verdict on confirming or rescinding the rejection should not be made by the original rejecting committee but by the co-ordinating com-mittee. This will avoid having the same committee as both judge and de-fendant in the recourse. Greater Reduction of Matter Is Necessary The reduction of the work of the general chapter has to be much greater than the mere immediate rejection of proposals considered less important, less general, or otherwise evidently inadmissible in the past. No general chapter can s.atisfactorily handle a thousand or two thousand proposals. This is true even if the pre-chapter prepa.ration is most thorough and com-plete, The number of proposals that confronted very many post-Vatican II general chapters was prostrating. Nor is it sensible to think of more fre-quent general chapters; we have too many now. Not a great number of them have been religiously effective, and there is nothing in multiplication that augurs greater effectiveness. Perhaps the remedy is to cut down very severely the work of the general chapter to the particular matters that are very highly important and urgent and to give much greater attention to policies than to enactments and changes of enactments and laws in particular matters. Present Mentality Few will now even question the statement that we are faced by a crisis of authority. Pope Paul VI has often spoken~ of this crisis, for example: To mention another: there is the excessive emphasis on the right of the indi-vidual to do as he pleases, which leads to the rejection of any and all limits imposed from without and of any and all authority, however legitimate it may be (May 25, 1968, The Pope Speaks, 13 [1968], 222). In this way a mentality is spread which would like to claim that dis-obedience is legitimate and justified in order to protect the freedom that the sons of God should enjoy (January 29, 1970, ibid., 15 [1970], 54). Since therefore it is a visible society, the Church must necessarily have the power and function of making laws and seeing to it that they are obeyed. The Church's members in turn are obliged in conscience to observe these laws (December 13, 1972, ibid., 17 [1973], 376). This mentality of hostility tO authority and law is one of the very im-portant and urgent matters that a general chapter must face and strive to 2911 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 change, but it is also a fact that makes one question the enactment of many laws at present. Matters Excluded from the Competence of General Chapters Possessing Experimental Authority These chapters obviously cannot change ( 1 ) divine law, whether natural or revealed; (2) and without the previous appro'~al of the Sacred Congrega-tion for Religious and Secular Institutes these chapters may not put into effect anything that is contrary to the common law (canonical prescriptions, laws of Vatican II, and other laws and decrees of the Holy See); nor (3) make any change in the purpose, nature, and characteristics of any institute or in the Rule of an institute (Ecclesiae sanctae, n6. 6). Proposals These are made by the members of the institute and by provincial chap-ters. All are to be encouraged to make proposals; all are equally to be counseled to make only good proposals, and this means good for the entire institute. A proposal is to be judged by its content, but an obscure and un-duly long proposal is a certain indication of insufficient thought. The insuffi-ciency in this: case frequently extends to the content of the proposal. To find l~roposals a religious, should go over the life of the individual members and of,the community immediately with God, the community life, and the life of work. He should go through all pertinent books, e.g., the constitutions. He is to evaluate and to find ways to correct and improve the life of sanc-tity, the apostolate, the present policies and trends of the institute, its public image in the Church and in.general. He should evaluate, all innovations of the post-Vatican II years. Have they succeeded, failed, and in each case to what extent? Have the members of the institute become better religious, better participants in the community life, better apostles? What are the big problems facing the institute today? What is their solution? What is the re-ligious' effectiveness of superiors, their councilors, those in charge of forma-tion, of the works of the al:iOstolate? Is the tenor and style of life in the houses conducive to the religious life, the apostolate, a religiously satisfy-ing community life? Are your proposals solid, progressive without being im-prudent? Do they all propose freedom from something that is difficult and demands sacrifice? Proposals must be signed only and to the extent that this is com-manded by the law of the institute. A final day, well ahead of the opening of the general chapter, must be determined for the handing in of proposals. All, including general capitulars, should hand in their proposals during this tim& The general capitulars retain the right of making proposals during the chapter: Toward the close of the chapter, a date is to be determined be-yond which no proposal will be accepted. All of these provisions are to enable the committees to process the proposals properly and in due time. The General Chapter o/ Affairs / 299. The right to make proposals is determined by the law or practice of the particular institute. Those who do not have this right may suggest proposals, preferably in writing, to ~those who do enjoy the right. The latter may but are .not obliged to accept merely suggested proposals (see Review ]or Re-ligious, 23 [1964], 359-64). Position Papers and Questionnaires These were the high hurdle and wide stream obstacles in the procedure of. so many special general chapters, and few of these chapters landed fully on the opposite bank. Position papers were also at times a means on the part of committees of appropriating to themselves the policy making func-tion of the chapter. Questionnaires were frequently the substitution of a none too reasonable head count for a vote given because of convincing reasons. A background paper or questionnaire is only rarely necessary or advisable, e.g, an intelligent vote, for or against a particular proposal can demand a brief historical description. If so, the background paper should be prepared.~ Authority of the Superior General in Pre-chapter Preparation The superior general, assisted by his council, has authority over the entire pre-chapter preparation. This is evident from the fact that, outside of the general chapter, there is no one else on the general level of authority and from canon 502, which places the institute under his authority (see Ecclesiae sanctae, no. 4). Frequently at least a superior general gives ample delegation to. another religious to direct and supervise this preparation, e.g., to the Chairperson, of the steering or co-ordinating committee. However, the superior general can always lessen or~'withdraw such authority, lie may also always step in to correct and guide particular matters, individuals, or committees. Post-Vatican II general and provinc, ial chapters have often been vanquished in the pre-chapter preparation. The game was lost before it began. The superior general is not arbitrarily to interfere in or hamper the, work of the committees, but he should be completely aware of what is going on in all committees. He should be very sensitive to a too conservative or a too leftist~ approach and, even more practically, ~to a group that is unduly and wrongly influencing the pre-chapter preparation. ' Attaining a:Universal Voice in Chapters Especially since about 1965 we have had a constant clamor that the religious of temporary vows or other commitment be permitted to be dele-gates to the general and provincial chapters. This has been an outstandingly unreal issue of recent years.The clear fact has been that the young were talking in the chapters and pre-chapter preparation. The voice that was not being heard was that of the older and of many middle-aged religious and chapter members. This has been true also in other discussion groups, for example, local community discussions. Our need and problem of the-mo- 300 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 ment is to hear the older and the middle-aged religious. I doubt that this can be attained at this time except by having the chapter discussions start with small discussion groups. Each group should be composed of religious of all ages. This system would demand a sufficiently competent chairperson and secretary in each group, the report by the secretary of the group, and the distribution of copies of the reports of each group and of the composite report of all the groups before the common discussion of the matter in the whole chapter. The attainment of the most accurate and efficient procedure in this matter demands a very thorough study. Discussion groups are a time consuming means. They could be employed only for the more serious mat-ters. My own sincere judgment, based on the observation of chapters, is that such a means is necessary to hear the voice of the older and of many mid-dle- aged religious, especially of sisters. Part of the factual basis of this judg-ment is the lack of the older and middle-aged voice manifested very gen-erally in post-Vatican II chapters, that is, the effects that.revealed an inex-perienced, imprudent, and exaggerated origin. As far back as 1901, the Roman Congregations governing religious have refused to approve those of temporary vows or other commitment as dele-gates in the general and provincial chapters. Chapter Principles The preceding section on proposals lists fairly adequately the aspects and fields that can give rise to proposals. Proposals can also be drawn from the principles that should guide chapters, communities, and individuals, which we shall give in this section. The supreme principle is that all should seek the greater good of the Church and of the whole institute, not merely of some part of it or of some group in it. Seek the good not merely of the young, but also of the middle-aged and the aged. A high degree of differ-ence in some aspect of life that is verified in any particular country or re-gion should receive its proper consideration. This is to be true not merely of the United States but of any other country, of Germany, France, Italy, England, Japan. Differences do not exist in all aspects of life. The American has no less need of prayer and mortification than the Italian. Obviously no nation is to give the impression of being superior to all other nations. All should retain all the good of the past and be willing to accept all good ideas of the present and of the future. It is equally the duty of all to oppose anything that is useless or harmful to the institute or its members. Any false principle such as disobedience, especially if public, to the govern-ing or teaching authority of the Church should be immediately rejected. The goal in prayer is not freedom but a more universal life of constant prayer. The Holy Spirit guides practically all of us by the ordinary way, and this implies that our problems, difficulties and their solution are at least gen-erally ordinary. Little will be gained from a study of oriental mysticism or concentration or from emphasizing the charismatic. Much will be gained to The General Chapter o] Affairs / 301 the extent that it is realized that the difficulties in prayer are the very ordi-nary things of the lack of desire for sanctity of life, the unwillingness to make the sacrifices that such a life demands, the lack of a realization that prayer demands a constant effort, an impersonal spirituality, a poor introduction to mental prayer, a complicated system or machinery of mental prayer, a neglect of spiritual reading, a life that is merely activist, natural, secular, and similar ordinary things. If a chapter accepts open placement, how can the institute staff missions, colleges, hospitals, schools, homes for the aged? Can there be a generally satisfying community life when there is unlimited home visiting and unlimited going out for diversion? W.hy always leap to the new, the youthful, the leftist? Certainly sometimes the old, the moderate, the conservative is the true, the relevant, the practical. Why run to manage-ment consultants before you have tried a thorough investigation, study, and planning on your own? If any advisers gave false and imprudent advice, this advice can be the perfect mirror of what was wanted. List everything that your institute has adopted in renewal and adaptation. How many of these have helped the members to become better religious, better apostles, better Catholics? It is certainly not easy to start all over; neither is it any too comfortable to be on a plane that is speeding to certain extinction. The dominant thought of any chapter has to be the spiritual, the su-pernatural, the eternal not only with regard to the personal lives of the in-dividual religious but also to the apostolate and community life. Natural development and fulfillment and social work are important but not primary, nor are they the soul of the religious life or of its apostolate. Reject ideas and proposals that are disproportionately expensive. All experimentation in the Church and much more its worship should be carried out in a manner that is adult, mature, dignified, restrained rather than undisciplined and reckless, and not marred by the extremes of either the right or the left. The common saying is that religious dress is not an important question. This is true of religious dress in the abstract and considered merely in itself. In its effects and ramifications, religious dress, especially of women, is certainly an important question. In the past the error was to identify the old with the true, the good, and the relevant; the same error is verified now with regard to the new. Re-evaluate every post-Vatican II experiment and change. In-vestigate every question and adopt the solution that the facts demand or counsel; do not start off with a new structure or theory. The goal is only secondarily to renew and adapt the institute; the primary purpose must be to influence the religious to renew and adapt themselves. The thrust is pri-marily personal, not institutional. There is one essential test of past, present, and future experimentation. Does it produce greater sanctity of life, a deeper and wider community life, a greater spiritual effect in the apostolate? One of the most important qualities demanded in superiors and chapters today is the courage to stand with the wise and oppose the foolish. How many of your schools, colleges, and other institutions are very secular? Can you 302 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 justifiably allow this to continue and progress? Take anything and every-thing that is good and helpful from psychology and sociology, but never forget that they are no substitute for revelation, morality, or spiritual theol-ogy. How many factual studies were made that proved the later difficulties and defections of religious were found especially in those who entered im-mediately after high school? Honestly face the vocation problem and any of its causes that may exist in the individual and collective lives of your re-ligious. It is possible to emphasize the dignity of the married life without denigrating the religious life. Is the life style of your religious in conformity with the deep totality of the religious consecration? Do all things conduce to greater sanctity, better community life, and a more spiritual apostolate? Are we complaining about the lack of inspiration in the religious life after we buried it in selfishness, materialism, and naturalism? Adopt only what gives at least solid probability of success; otherwise your conduct is at least ordinarily imprudent or even rash. Procedure in lhe Chapter The chapter procedure should be kept as simple and uncomplicated as possible. The need of recourse to parliamentary procedure should be infre-quent, and each institute is now in a position to list the few parliamentary rules that are practical. The secretary of the chapter is to post the agenda for the sessions of a day at least on the preceding evening. It can be the understanding that the proposals or matters are to be taken in the order of the reports distributed to

Issue 28.5 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard. S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW VOR R~Joxous; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with eccleslastmal appro~ d by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louts Umverslty, the editorial olhces being located at 612 Humboldt Building, 539 North Grand Boulevard, Same Louts, ~dlssouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright t~) 1969by REVIEW roa REt.lmo~s at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mars-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money orderpaya-hie to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in LI.S.A currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REview vor~ RELIGIOL$ Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REvlF.w vo~ RELInIot~s; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent to REvIEw FOR RELIGIOUS; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to R~vmw FOrt RE~.IoIot:s; 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 1969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 5 JOHN CARROLL FUTRELL, S.J. Some Reflections on the Religious Life It is no secret that today many religious are under-going a painful identity crisis. Participating in the con-fusion that always accompanies dramatic change in cul-tural patterns (complicated by the extreme rapidity of this change in our modern world), religious are further troubled by the problems posed very existentially to them in their effort to obey the call of Vatican II to renew their authentic living of the gospel pattern ac-cording to the original inspiration of their founder and to adapt their way of living to the signs of the times. The breakdown of external structures which in the past had supported their interior commitment, the loss of comforting customs which had provided a kind of.touch-stone of authenticity (however formalized one felt them to be), the disconcerting shift of attitudes toward the place of the religious life within the Church, the value placed upon active insertion into a secularized world, the challenges to faith itself posed by new theological and liturgical languages and symbols--all of these fac-tors together have brought up in' the minds of many religious agonizing questions concerning the value and even the validity of their lives. A basic question that is often repeated is whether it is possible to specifically distinguish religious life from lay life as a Christian. Having grown up in a culture that took it for granted that the religious life was the "way of perfection" and a "higher" or "better" form of Christian living and, perhaps, having included this idea within the complex of personal motives for following the vocation to the religious life, some re-ligious feel lost and without identity in a world where such abstract and tendentious comparisons are no longer significant. Members of various religious congregations wonder whether there is anything really meaningful in their specific vocation. A divisive and potentially death- 'dealing polarization develops in some communities be- John Carroll Futrell, S.J., is a faculty member of St. Louis University Divinity School; 220 North Spring Ave-nue; St. Louis, Mis-souri 63108. VOL~UME 28, 1969 705 + ÷ ÷ ~lohn Carroll Futrell, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tween those who cling for personal survival to old structures of living, praying, and working, and those who are impatient to reject all that has gone before and to embrace all that is new simply because it is new. The following reflections are addressed to only some aspects of these difficult problems. Much time and prayer Will be needed before effective solutions are found to .them. Nevertheless, it is important that religious do reflect upon them and that they share their reflections with one another in an effort to discern what God is asking of us as religious in our own times. What is offered in the following pages, then, are some reflections, firstly, on the meaning of Christian spirituality in it-self-- whether lived by laymen or by religious; then, on the accurate location of the difference between lay life and religious life; and, finally, on the religious life as institutionalized in the Church and on the function of community structures within religious congregations. A Christian is a person whose life in the world derives its meaning from his faith in Jesus Christ encountered in His Church--who discovers in Jesus Christ God re-vealing Himself to man, judging and freeing us by the cross and resurrection of Christ, and sending His Spirit to enable us to share now and forever in the divine life of the Trinitarian community of love. Ad-herence to a creed of truths, following a moral code, commitment to living out certain religious values: all these are consequences of the basic faith experience of the person of Jesus Christ. A person who merely in-tellectually assents to propositions or who merely decides to espouse certain humanitarian values derived from the gospel is not truly a Christian unless these positions are expressions of his commitment in faith to Jesus Christ and of his belief in the good news which Christ proclaimed. When this faith in Jesus Christ is freely and de-cisively assumed as personal commitment by a person (and not merely as a sociological fact of "religion" in his life), this is the result of a personal experience of the person of Jesus Christ. That is to say, the individual recognizes in the divine revelation in Christ, witnessed to by the Apostles and handed down by the Church, the identification of the universal experience of the trans-cendent- the unknown God obscurely encountered in the openness of the human spirit to the mysterious Absolute. In spite of all the various scientific, philo-sophical, psychological, and magical efforts to explain away this experience, it remains real and undeniable in the self-awareness of human beings who have achieved a certain level of consciousness. Indeed, most children seem to have a real experience of God when they are very young. Wordsworth wrote reams of poetry testifying to this. Teilhard de Chardin has written eloquently of the growth of his experience in The Divine Milieu and has pointed out the errors into which men have fallen "in their attempts to place or even to name the uni-versal Smile" (Torch Books, p. 129). Contact with the Other who makes us feel his presence-in-absence in this experience has been the underlying goal of all the great world religions--and of the psychedelic games of today. The Christian is the person who recognizes in Jesus Christ the face of God: "I am in the Father and the Father is in me." Christian faith experience, then, is the consciousness ¯ of recognition: a recognition of the one true God ex-perienced in one's own interior experience of fulfill-ment, of completion, of "coming home" in faith in Jesus Christ; a recognition experienced also in seeing the lives of Christians who embody the word proclaimed by the Church, in the word of Scripture, in the break-ing of the Eucharistic bread, and progressively in one's own experience of new manhood through lived faith. Faith is certitude derived from the authenticity of witness---of signs--and experienced through living it. It is vital to recognize the particular form of certitude had in faith. It is the certitude of experiential experi-ence, the certitude that comes from fully experienced living. This is the highest form of practical certitude enjoyed by human beings, the form of certitude upon which we base our actual living. It has been well said that "theory is good, but it does not excuse you from living." Men do not guide their lives by the coherent symmetry of logical theories but by the practical under-standing that comes from the certitude of lived ex-perience. For example, the only way that I know that another person really loves me is by faith certitude. I cannot "get into the skin of another," cannot share the unique and incommunicable act of self-awareness within which the other freely determines his relation-ships to all that is exterior to himself---including me. My assurance that he does indeed love me can be based only on signs--words, gestures, all the human modes of non-verbal communication, actions of self-giving, and so forth. Yet, I can come to the greatest certitude of his love because of my lived experience of it. The certitude of faith in Jesus Christ, then, is the certitude of lived experience. It is faith--not the knowl-edge derived from empirical experience of the senses or of microscopes or test tubes, not the knowledge result-ing from the logical necessity of a syllogism, but faith + + 4. VOLUME 28, '1969 707 John Futrell, $.]. REV]EW FOR RELIGIOUS in witness and signs authenticated in the living per-sonal experience of God in the person of Jesus Christ risen and living in His Church. The experience of God is always the experience of presence-in-absence, just as is the experience of personal relationship with any person. Because another person is constituted in his selfhood by his unique self-aware-ness, there always remains a new depth of his person to be penetrated, a further horizon of mutual knowledge and love to beckon us onward. The greatest degree of union and love we reach in our mutual presence always opens outwards to a new profundity yet to be sought --the fascinating and wonderful absence discovered in mutual presence which makes personal relationship a dynamic always growing life and not a gtatic, finished work. Our personal relationship with God in prayer is characterized by this same presence-in-absence, this same experienced love and union, this same certitude of something being lived. Indeed, even our self-awareness is marked by presence-in-absence. The only "I" that I am is the self of the present moment summing up all my past history and straining towards my future self-actualization. But I never grasp this present of myself: it slips into my past even as I try to focus upon it. I know the present, my present, only in the lived experieuce of a unique kind of actuality, of plenitude, of density and richness. I know myself with certitude as presence-in-absence. In the lived experience of God as presence-in-absence in prayer, there is a similar plenitude, richness, density, actuality; and in opening ourselves to welcome God in this experience, we are conscious of a profound tran-quillity, peace, calm--a recognition of "rightness," of our authentic, fulfilled selves. It is this primordial ex-perience of peace in absolute openness to God, in total responsiveness to His word, which, is the touchstone of all future discernment of specific response to a specific divine call in a here and now situation. This experi-enced certitude of lived faith is discovered through the authentic testimony of witnesses who embody the word for us, and it is grasped in our own act of faith because of the signs manifested by these witnesses. This certitude grows progressively stronger as we have the living experience of our own faith, until our faith in God in Jesus Christ becomes the greatest certitude of our lives, a certitude daily renewed and accomplished anew everyday, just as is our love of another. On the other hand, it is important to notice the es-sential difference between the experience of personal relations with other human persons and with God in Christ. Another human is bodily present to me and his body mediates his interiority to me. God is not bodily present to me nor is the risen Christ in His human body. I cannot affirm the existence of God as the basis of the experience of his presence-in-absence as I can affirm the existence of another man. Even philosophical demonstrations of the existence of God, while they may be perfectly valid, do not give me God as the object of interior experience. For this reason, even the greatest mystics have always testified that they never felt that their interior experi-ence placed them outside the domain of faith. It is al-ways by faith, which is essentially a divine gift originat-ing from a gracious divine initiative, that we come to realize our experience of God in Christ. The Christian life, then, is a faith--a life of faith. No matter how we analyze the spiritual life according to human scien-tific categories, the object of our experience never leaves the realm of faith. That is why divine revelation in the Bible in no way claims to be a theory of our relations with God. On the contrary, it is the history of this relation which is there taught. And it is fundamental that the origin of our existence and of our reIationship with God is His divine initiative, that the beginning of this history is divine. This fact exactly situates the continuing relationship between God and us: every-thing depends upon His divine initiative. Faith is al-ways a gift. To be a Christian, then, means to live a life grounded in the personal faith experience of God in Jesus Christ. Now, human beings first experience--first live, and only thereafter do they seek to express their experiences and to reflect upon them. It is vital, therefore, to dis-tinguish the lived experience from its expression and from theoretical reflection upon this expression. In the life of the Church, lived Christian experience, the living tradition of the Christ-event as experienced by the community of believers, is primordial. The expressions of this experience at various historical and cultural epochs during the last two thousand years are only temporally conditioned, relative expressions of this ex-perience. The role of theology within the Church is always the re-expression and the re-interpretation of this primordial Christian experience in contemporary language, contemporary conceptual structures, contem-porary cultural contexts. What is essential is always authentically to preserve spiritual continuity across rad-ical cultural discontinuity. Similarly, the faith experience of an individual Chris-tian, beginning with his earliest experiences of God as a child, are necessarily conditioned in their relative expression by the language, the. symbols, the images ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Li]e VOLUME 28, 1969 709 John Carroll REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~10 available to him at a given age and stage of maturity. As he grows humanly and intellectually and rejects the anthropomorphic images of early childhood, such as God the kind grandaddy with a long beard, or the romantic idealizations of adolescence (which were the only modes of expression then available to him), he must not at the same time reject his certitude of the lived experience of God. All the great masters of prayer testify that prayer becomes progressively simpler, more and more leaning upon bare faith, less and less at-tached to a series of concepts or emotions. This is because one is entering more profoundly into the density and richness of God's presence-in-absence, into the lived experience of personal union with God in Christ which is beyond expression and theorizing. There is no greater certitude in life than this lived experience of God. The individual Christian, too, must preserve au-thentic spiritual continuity across the radical discon-tinuity of his language and images and symbols as he grOWS. Now, the Christian, having found the meaning of his life in the world in his faith in Jesus Christ, must live this faith in all the situations of his daily life. He must witness to his faith by a Christian style of life, a Christian spirituality. This is always true of all Chris-tians, even though the concrete expressions of this life style are relative to the historical and cultural context and the concrete situations within which Christianity is being lived. The essential elements of Christian spirituality are always the same: living out Christ's great command-ment of love according ~o the general norms He enunci-ated in the Beatitudes and exemplified in His life. How-ever, these essential elements will be expressed in different ways discerned by prophetically interpreting ex-istential situations, that is to say, by prayerfully reflect-ing upon the challenges posed by the signs of the times in the light of the gospel, in order to recognize and respond to God's word here and now. It is through listening to the world--the existential word of God--- and at the same time listening to the Spirit--the pro-phetic word of God in Christ in the Church and in the individual Christian--that through a continuing dia-lectic the Christian discerns how to live his Christian faith here and now. He confirms the validity of the decision arrived at through this discernment by com-paring his inner experience of peace and tranquillity in this specific choice with the peace and tranquillity enjoyed in his primordial experience of openness and surrender to God in Christ. All Christians are called to this essential Christian spirituality. In living their discerned life style, all Chris-tians must witness to both the incarnational and the eschatological aspects of the Christ life which animates the Church: the presence of the Spirit of the risen Christ in His Church renewing tile earth by unifying mankind and transforming the universe--building the earth to its fulfillment in Christ-Pleroma; and also the Christian hope in Christ who is to come in the final accomplish-ment of the kingdom of God in the Parousia. All Chris-tians must express the "cosmological" love of God im-manent in the ongoing new creation accomplished by the Spirit of Christ through the efforts of men in the history of the world; and all must express the "trans-cendent" love of God the absolute future of man--the Father who is known only in Christ, the Trinitarian community of love which will be shared perfectly by men in their union with one another and with the Father in Christ through the Spirit when Christ comes again. The manner in which individual Christians are to express ,this twofold Christian love is discerned in the here and now situation of their own historical and cultural context. This individual expression takes place within the community of Christians and is grounded in the initiative that comes from God: different gifts, dif-ferent charisms, different divine initiatives, different calls--all for the service of the entire People of God, all ordered to the community expression of the Christ life in the world and to the embodiment of the two aspects of Christian love. II Essentially, then, there is only one Christian spirit-ualitv, always aimed at the full possession of all men b~ tl~e Father through Christ in the Spirit. This is true because there is only one essential Christian vision of the meaning of life in the world, a vision based upon the faith experience of God revealing Himself to men in Christ through the Spirit living in the Church. The differences in the manner of living out this one spirituality originate in the various expressions of this spirituality determined by historical and cultural con-texts and, also, in the different charisms given by the Holy Spirit to individual Christians to enable them to serve the Church in specific ways. The distinctive func-tions within the Church of bishops, priests, religious, and laymen are grounded in these different charisms. The distinctive styles of life or spiritualities observable in the lives of married persons and religious are simply distinctive ways of living the one Christian spirituality ÷ VOLUME 28, 1969 ~ohn Carroll ~ Futrell, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS which must he fully expressed by the whole Church as a community. For instance, an essential element in the one spirit-uality of all Christians is evangelical poverty in its root meaning of an attitude (a beatitudel) of anawim: aware-ness of man's dependence upon God in Christ resulting in single-hearted seeking of God and issuing in acts of peacemaking and of mercy towards others. This attitude must be embodied by all Christians in lives showing forth the two-fold incarnational and eschato-logical Christian love. Living as anawim according to the Beatitudes, all Christians often will discern the call to acts of renunciation of real human values in order to be true to their faith in Christ; and these actions will witness not only to their faith in the risen Christ present in the Church and renewing creation here and now, but also to their eternal hope in Him who is to come in the final fulfillment of the kingdom--their existen-tial acknowledgment of God as the absolute future of man in Christ. The vowed evangelical poverty and chastity and obedience of Christians who are called to the religious life, then, is not the only way to practice or to express the eschatological aspect of Christian love. Neverthe-less, the life of the vows is the only way to manifest this aspect through the signification of an entire life to bear permanent, visible witness to it in the world. Any Christian living out his Christianity authentically .is called upon in many ways to renounce various goods and values in order to take up his cross and follow Jesus. Think of men and women who in order to fulfill their vocation in the sacrament of marriage or as parents or as truly just and loving neighbors to other men are challenged to sacrifice desirable goods and values for the sake of fidelity to Christ in their daily lives. Never-theless, the overall, visible style of li[e of the l~y Christian in its permanent life pattern manifests above all the aspect of Christian love in the Church which is to work in the world in order to transform it in Christ, continuing the incarnation of Christ by building the earth. Although this Christian lay life includes and, when necessary, expresses the eschatological aspect of the Church, it shows forth in its basic dynamism the in-carnational aspect. On the .other hand, a religious in his actual work of serving the Church normally is equally engaged in the ,work of building up Christ in mankind and in the world. He too lives and expresses the incarnational as-pect to the Church. But by the public foregoing of the 'high, positive, human values renounced through his vows, the total meaning of the being-in-the-world of the religious becomes the tangible insertion into this incarnational dynamism of the eschatological aspect which is visibly manifested through the overall, perma-nent pattern of life according to the evangelical coun-sels. To make permanently visible to men this eschato-logical dimension of the Church is the specific meaning of the religious life as a distinctive way of living Christianity. As Karl Rahner has pointed out, that which con-stitutes the unique signification of the vowed evangelical counsels in the religious life is that this is the perma-nent foregoing of high, positive, human values for the sake of a value which cannot be the object of a direct experience, a value which necessarily must be believed in and hoped [or. By their vows religious abandon a possible experience in favor of a value that is now possessed only in faith and hope. That is to say, it is possible for me to have the experience of possessing the results of my work, of having a wife and children, of exercising my own autonomy of choice; but I possess the value of the fulfillment of the kingdom now only in my faith and hope in Christ who is to come. The re-nunciation of the vows is a visible manifestation of permanent and absolute openness to God's future for man in Christ. This renunciation, therefore, is the visible expression and the continual realization of love for God much more in the eschatological dimension of this love than in its terrestrial or incarnational dimen-sion. Even the unbeliever must recognize the meaning of a gesture of faith and hope and love which is the perma-nent renunciation of these positive human, values through the vows. For example, a man in vowing chas-tity "puts his body on the line" until death because of his faith and hope and love of Christ who is to come, and thereby he visibly witnesses in a most striking way to this faith and hope and love. One can believe that this faith and hope and love is absurd, but one cannot deny its depth in the People of God among whom it can call forth such a visible testimony. All Christians, then,--religious and lay--must live both incarnational and eschatological love. But the over-all pattern and significance of the Christian lay vocation is visible witness to the incarnational aspect of the Church, while the overall pattern and significance of the religious life of the vowed evangelical counsels is visible witness to the eschatological aspect. The distinction between lay life and religious life in the Church, therefore, is not to be sought in a difference of the basic Christian vision o~ of the essential Christian spirituality. The distinction is. to be sought, 4. VOLUME 28a 1969 ÷ John Carroll Futrell, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS rather, in the variety of charisms and the different modes of response to the divine initiative. The difference arises from distinctive ways of living the one Christian life, that is, particular ways of responding to and of ex-pressing the love of God through following Christ within a permanent life pattern having a specifically different, total, overall signification than do other particular ways of living Christianity. Whatever might be concluded through theoretical discussions based upon various hier-archical models, there can be no question in the real order of one Christian way of life being "higher" or "better" than another. It is a question rather of a charism, of the divine initiative and authentic response to it which can only be the "best" for the individual person responding to God's call to him. III A community of persons has a history, just as does an individual person. In the history of the community of Christian believers, the Church, there has been from the beginning an evolution of "structured" charisms, dis-cerned by the community as authentic responses to the divine initiative for service of the People of God. These structured charisms have been lived by groups of in-dividuals who have been given these charisms, organiz-ing themselves into institutionalized communities for service of the Church through lives devoted primarily either to prayer, to spiritual or corporal works of mercy, or to apostolic mission. In this way, the religious life developed as a distinctive, institutionalized way of liv-ing Christianity, eventually having its own juridical description in canon law. From the groups congregat-ing around St. Antony in the desert to the official recognition of secular institutes in 1948, this evolution has continued (as it still does) in the response of Chris-tians to divine initiatives within diverse historical and cultural contexts. A Christian who discerns that he has been given the charism of service of the Church in the religious life enters into the institutional structure of this charism by public, vowed commitment to the three evangelical counsels, declared to the whole People of God repre-sented by the one who in the name of the Church re-ceives the vows. By so doing, this Christian establishes himself in a permanent, distinctive life style which has a special and unique force as a sign of one aspect of the one spirituality of the entire Christian commu-nity. His response to the divine initiative is, therefore, his acceptance of the charism of his vocation. The personal experience of Jesus Christ is the basis of all Christian faith. When this experience is char- acterized by certain qualities, the result is that one is simply impelled to give his whole life and all his love to Jesus Christ through living the vowed evangelical counsels. Depending upon certain other characteristics of this personal experience of Jesus Ctirist, one feels simply impelled to consecrate all his life and energy to prayer for the People of God in the contemplative life or to their active service and to helping other persons to share this faith experience of Jesus Christ through apostolic mission. This Christian's whole life as a re-ligious is grounded in this faith experience; and it depends for its growth and depth and permanence upon the growth and depth and permanence of his personal relationship to Jesus Christ in love. The original charism must come to its complete fulfillment. The individual choice to live the religious life in one specific religious community rather than another is the result of the judgment that one's own response to the divine initiative discerned in the charism of his vocation can be best embodied in this specific community voca-tion. He discovers his personal identity as a Christian person precisely in the community identity of this re-ligious order or congregation. The community identity of a given religious congre-gation is rooted in the original inspiration of the founder(s), the basic vision of a particular way of follow-ing Christ, which underlies all the different techniques devised to try to live out this vision within different historical and cultural contexts. Where, as in many apostolic congregations, the basic vision of various com-mumtles as similar or even identical, the specific differ-ence of these congregations arises from their particular approach to service or mission and from the history of each congregation in living out the basic vision. The history of an institution progressively charac-terizes this institution in its identity, just as the personal history of a man characterizes his identity. A man of forty carries with him the accumulated characteristics oflhis own personal evolution. His face and body and psychology are marked by specific traits by which he identifies himself to himself and by which other people identify him. This is equally true of different religious congregations. That which is essential today, then, in order to ac-complish authentic renewal of religious congregations is to truly discover the original inspiration of the founder, the basic vision, the radical intention neces-sarily expressed by the founder in the language (images, symbols, gestures, practices, ways of action) of his own historical and cultural context. 0nly when this basic vision is clear is it possible to discern how to express it ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Li~e VOLUME 28~ 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ John Carroll Futrell, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS authentically in the new language imposed upon us by the signs of our times: to preserve spiritual con-tinuity across cultural discontinuity. Furthermore, since there is no infallible guarantee of the permanent worth of this basic vision, and since charisms can be given for time-conditioned service of the People of God, it must be discerned whether or not the basic vision and, so, the existence of a given religious congregation is still valid and valuable in the ongoing life of the Church. When it is discerned that a religious congregation can still make a real contribution to the life and mission of the Church, then courageous and loyal adaptation of life style must be undertaken in order to renew the true embodiment of the basic vision of this community here and now. Whatever means are discerned to be authentic and effective for this end, these will have to be structured into the life of the community. The com-munity is made up of individual body-persons who find their own personal identity in the community identity. Their mutual union in this community of persons is grounded in this profound identification of life meaning which they share with one another. Unless this profound union is embodied in some really ex-perienced way in common worship, common ways of living, common service of the Church, it is inevitable that it will float off into the realm of pure abstract theory, an ideal existing only as a dream. During a time of dramatic cultural change such as we are now experiencing, it is clear that there must be much experimentation with community structures, al-ways discerned according to the criterion of the re-newed basic vision of the community. Indeed, at present the indications are that much pluralism must be al-lowed. But especially during a time of pluralistic ex-periments, ways must be found to embody the total unity of the entire community sufficiently and frequently enough to keep it real. This is absolutely imposed upon us because we are body-persons, a fact too often forgotten with disastrous results. The fundamental problem posed by the necessity of embodying community unity through some form of structures is the continual need to carry on the dialectic of the individual good and the common good, personal initiative and aspirations and community ideals and commitments. The aim should be to effect a synthesis of these personal and community elements as often as possible through true mutual discernment. But when such a synthesis proves impossible, after this discern-ment, it is the universal good of the community which must be given priority in making decisions, precisely because the personal identity of each individual member is found in the community identity. In any community, even that of two persons in marriage, there is a new reality larger than each individual 'T': it is the reality of "we." The final word must always be given to this Because of the depth of their union grounded in common personal identity, the persons belonging to a religious community have a unique foundation for true, warm, human mutual love. This love must be experi-enced and embodied in aII the ways that go to establish and develop human interpersonal relationships and to confronting difficulties of temperament, disagreement, misunderstanding, and so forth. Since this union is the result of divinely given charisms, every effort must be made to share the basic faith experience of Jesus Christ which is the source of the communion of persons in this religious community. Because the individual experience itself is not verbal but lived, this sharing must be chiefly on the level of non-verbal communication. Here communitarian prayer can be very effective. Listening to another praying to God, even in language that I myself couhl not use, is a most effective way to come to the recognition that he shares the same faith experience of Jesus Christ, the same charism, the same response of life commitment, as do I. If the members of a religious community do share the basic faith experience of Jesus Christ which grounds their unity and their life together, then they will be enabled to grow in true human love for one another. Where there is profound union and an atmosphere of mutual love, it is possible to disagree (even violently) about means to ends without becoming polarized and, finally, disunited and destroyed as a community. Dif-ferences will be seen for what they are: differences of language and symbols which are conditioned by cultural contexts and, so, are completely relative, deriving their value only from their effectiveness in embodying the basic vision which remains the ground of union. Where deep union and mutual love are present, it will be recognized that persons in the community in responding to community-discerned adaptations are not to be condemned if they find it difficult to adjust to what for them is a new and foreign language to express their personal identity issuing from their personal faith experience of Jesus Christ. This is a matter of the dif-ficulty of changing ways of structuring and of expressing experience which have been built up over a lifetime, rather than a matter of a negative attitude to renewal and adaptation. The only attitude that one must change (whether he be "traditionally" or "progressively" oriented) is that 4. Religious Li~e VOLUME 28~ 1969 4" 4" ÷ John Carroll Futrell, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS o[ fixation: confusing language with experience and means with ends and insisting that unless things are done my way, they cannot be authentically Christian. This is equivalent to saying: "If you speak French in-stead of American English, you cannot be expressing truly human thoughts and feelings." Redemption from fixation--and from polarization--will be achieved through sharing the faith experience of Jesus Christ and only thereafter attempting to find a language to express this experience. These reflections have led to the conclusion that the religious has his personal identity through his response to a particular divine initiative, his acceptance of a special charism discerned in the characteristics of his personal faith experience of Jesus Christ. The religious embodies his response to this charism by vowing himself to the life of the evangelical counsels in a specific re-ligious community. This means that he commits him-self to witness visibly by the total signification of his overall pattern of life to the eschatological aspect of Christian love lived in the Church. Within the community of Christians, all of whom ~hare one Christian spirituality, the distinctive role of the religious is permanently to manifest the faith and hope of the entire People of God in Christ who is to COmae. The religious' life of union with his companions in his own religious community is a life of mutual love grounded in the community identity of shared faith experience of Christ, which is expressed in the basic vision of this community's service of Christ in His Church, and which is embodied in community struc-tures adapted to the signs of the times through authentic discernment. The way towards a solution of the difficult problems being experienced by religious today, therefore, would seem above all to be the way of a universal renewal in all religious of their profound, personal faith experi-ence of Jesus Christ and a renewal of their mutual union and mutual love through mutually sharing this experience. It is through union with Jesus Christ that we shall achieve communion with one another. EDWARD G. BOZZO, C.F.X. Being-toward- Community:. Essence oJ Religious Life As the over-delayed Instruction (dated Jan. 6, 1969) from the Congregation of Religious concedes, the forma-tion of young religious is a topic of deep concern today. Leaving to others the full assessment of that ,uneven document which, in my view, hovers indecisively between old and new theologies, between an essentially juridical conception of religious life and some attempt to touch its theological pith, what I would urge is that religious life is dominantly about community and that this must be sustained as the master idea in considering every phase of its renewal. Though this is a simplification un-less qualified as I hope to do further on in this article, it is at present the hermeneutical wedge needed to cut through the complexities renewal involves. If, I submit, in the light of the recent Instruction, religious congrega-tions attempt to grapple with formation as a problem apart from the religious life as centrally concerned with creating and maintaining community, their adaptations of formation programs will be misfocused or foundering. As is evident from my intentional use of first person references, I present a personal (though I hope not un-substantiated) point of view as forcefully as I can. In doing so I make no claim to infallibility but hope that in presenting a position as vigorously as possible that I might at the very least provide the reader with a means of clarifying his own notions of the religious life, even if it be by disagreeing with those presented here. Though my topic is the general import of the idea that religious life is essentially the sustained effort toward community, let me begin by briefly stating the connection between this thesis and the specific question of the forma-tion of young religious. And let me begin this brief Edward Bozzo, C.F.X., is a mem-ber of Xaverian College; I0000 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Springs, Md. 2090~1. VOLUME 28, 1969 + 4. Edward G. Bozzo, C.F.X. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS treatment from the juridical aspect of the religious life --a perhaps more familiar starting point to middle-aged religious--that irrelevant species of which I am a member. Two other prenotes: I write as a member of what is usually called an active religious congregation and I beg pardon of any sister who might read this for main-taining masculine references throughout. Men become religious, in the technical sense, by pro-nouncing vows to God through His visible Church. These vows are called public in a technical sense, namely, that the Church so designates and recognizes them as con-stituting a person in the religious state. To describe how these spare juridical facts occur in actual life, how-ever, it would have to be added that a person becomes a religious by joining a specific religious institute approved by the Church. This datum is [taught with significance. Among other things, it means that one's chief source of awareness of what being a religious means comes ~rom the particular religious with whom he lives. One's idea of what the practice of the vows means, of the style of life to which they give rise, one's idea of life in common and dedicated service to others--all of these one learns from the religious with whom one lives. (;anon law and the institute's constitutions, no matter how well expressed, capture these realities only partially and in bare out-line. I Both are theoretical instruments which subserve the experience of religious life which latter holds the primacy, not vice versa.2 Since one's self-definition as a religious, for one's whole life as a religious, has its source in the lives of the reli-gious with whom one lives, it follows that our life in 1 See Friedrich Wulf, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life," in Commentary on the Documents o[ Vatican II, v. 2, ed. Herbert Vorgrimler (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968), p. 303, where Wulf notes that it will take religious congrega-tions a long time to overcome the narrowness which has plagued the official ecclesiastical concept of the religious life, especially since the 19th century. See also pp. 338, 340, and 362. ~ In philosophical terms, though we always need theory, it is ex-perience, the practical, which holds the primacy. Theory derives from practice and serves practice. To reverse this order is to create a host of difficulties in daily life. See John Macmurray, The Sel[ as .4gent (London: Faber and Faber, 1957), pp. 17ft. As regards religious life, it is necessary to recall not only that theory derives from experience and helps to interpret experience, but also that the theoretical apparatus has been overjuridical in its emphasis. Hence, even though theory is subservient to experience, now as never before, religious life requires work on its theoretical base. As Wulf remarks in commenting on chapters five and six of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church: "The theology of the reli-gious state is only in the making," Commentary on the Documents o] Vatican //, v. 1, ed. Herbert Vorgrimler (New York: Herder and Herder, 1967), p. 278. See Wulf in Vorgrimler, v. 2, p. $43: "Religious life today, that of active orders in particular, is becoming less and less amenable to detailed regulation." common is and ever remains the formative influence in our lives. Religious life does not escape the law of our lives as persons: we need one another to be ourselves,s Indeed, religious life aims to express this with a force un-paralleled by other styles of life.4 Whether or not they really believe it, at least many religious are now saying that religious formation never ends. The principal reason why it does not is that we ever depend on our fellow religious for discovering the implications of our lives as persons dedicated to God.5 The practical consequence of these facts for our con-gregations is that each one of us, whether he acknowl-edges the fact or prefers to dwell in illusion, plays a form-ative role. He cannot shirk this fact, nor the obligation arising from it by pretending that it is the novice master's job or the task of a group or team more particularly associated with young religious. For all of us formation is continual so long as we lead lives of mutual interde-pendence-- a phrase which describes our very condition as persons, and therefore our lives as religious as well. Under either head, life in common is essential. From the point of view of formation, personal and religious, our lives of mutual interdependence constitute our chief source of strength and progress, as well as the source of our obligation to live for our fellows. It scarcely needs mentioning that this mode of dis-course is currently employed to talk of Christian life in general and that there is nothing particularly distinctive about it so as to mark off religious as a spedal class,o That 8 See John Macmurray, Persons in Relation (London: Faber and Faber, 1961), p. 211. ' "The theological and spiritual new mentality which the council introduced into the religious orders has forced us to pose anew the question about the structures of religious life. To begin with we must mention the fundamental law which was present at the founding of every religious order, and which has moved into the forefront of Christian thought today in a specially urgent manner: the law of brotherliness" (Wulf in Vorgrimler, v. 2, p. 330). ~ Obviously this does not preclude a religious learning from those not members of the religious fraternity. See Wulf in Vorgrimler, v. 2, p. 339: "Common prayer, spiritual conversation among brethren and sisters--things which in fact make them brethren and sisters-- alone cause all of their efforts to bear fruit. The place where spiritual renewal happens is in the small group. The more a com-munity fosters these small groups, the greater the hope that the work of the general chapter will go beyond mere words and regula-tions, and reach out into real life." e Commenting on Chapter 5 of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Wulf, in Vorgrimler, v. 1, pp, 267-8, writes: "We are all set a single goal, one and the same Christian holiness (the degree of which., can and does vary according, to the vocation and the measure of grace allotted to each man). Ultimately, there-fore, there is only one kind of Christian life, and its nature is briefly sketched for us here: (1) The inward road that leads a Christian to his salvation (and often the outward road as well) + + .I-Being- toward. Community VOLUME 28, 1969 + ÷ ÷ Edward G. Bozzo, C.F.X. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS should not be surprising, since the religious life is not .a. privileged class existence, but the Christian life lived with utter seriousness. It has been the custom to define religious life in terms of Christian life. Hence, when individualistic notions of Christian life prevailed, reli-gious life--Christian calling lived intensely--was defined in individualistic patterns. When the dominant con-ception of Christian life was saving one's soul, the concomitant conception of religious life was a perfec-tion that made little of the social dimension of personal and Christian progress.7 Thanks to a host of long germinating movements in the field of theology itself (Biblical studies, for example) and in the world of thought more generally (most signifi-cantly in philosophy), individualism is seen now as an unrealistic way of conceptualizing personal existence,s As persons we do not possess any fullness of ourselves alone. We do not store up richness of interiority on our own and then issue forth to bestow our largesse upon others if and when we feel magnanimous enough to do depends at the deepest level on the guidance of the Holy Ghost and the promptings of his grace. (2) At every turn, therefore, in every situation he encounters, the Christiau must listen for the voice of the Spirit making known God's will for him., and obey it. This obedience is what the gospel calls adoring the Father in spirit and in truth (cf. Jn 4:23), and it means utter openness to God and utter docility to him. (3) Within the framework of the Christian dis-pensation taking this road means following the poor and humble Christ as he carries the Cross. (4) On this road the main business of the Christian is a living faith that stirs up hope and acts through love. At a time when every state of life and every community in the Church is trying to expound its own particular spirituality (and often ineptly), it is well for this Constitution to remind us of the one fundamental Christian spirituality of Scripture and tradition." Further: "What they all have in common is this: that Christian sanctification is not a road running parallel to the road of one's ordiuary life and work, but is a thing achieved in and through one's state of life with its daily tasks, in and through the concrete circumstances and events of one's existence." ~See Wulf in Vorgrimler, v. 2, p. 347, n. 11 especially. As Rahner writes: "This sense of being responsible for my brother, not only for his earthly needs but precisely for his eternal salvation, may be nothing short of decisive for my own eternal salvation. This is not sublime egoism. The realization that unless one loves selflessly one is risking one's own salvatiou does not imply some higher form of egoism. It is the scale by which I can measure how absolutely necessary is concern for my brother's salvation. The possibility that he has of working out his salvation without me means that he owes me nothing. But I can find myself only if I find my brother. The whole of life has got to be a forward movement towards loving my brother. I must love my brother, and in that love forget myself. If I do that, I am an apostle. If I do not do it, I am ultimately lost" (Karl Rahner, Christian in the Market Place [New York: Sheed and Ward, 1966], pp. 13-4). ~ See William F. Lynch, Images o] Hope (New York: New Ameri-can Library, 1966), p. 185. so.0 Hard as it may be for men, especially Americans, to swallow it, no one in his existence as a person exists in-dependently of other persons.10 The terminus a quo of personal life is a complete dependence on a personal other and the terminus acl quem is not rugged individ-ualism but interdependence with others.11 Personal exis-tence is and ever remains conditional upon mutuality with other persons. Failure to live according to this basic norm of our being is, in William F. Lynch's view, one of the root causes of mental illness. In religious terms it is Pelagianism. As Biblical studies have made apparent with ever increasing emphasis and as the recent conciliar documents attest, God calls us as He did Israel, as a people; He saves us as a people; .we worship Him as a people. In short, Christianity is fraternal faith, demon-strated in fraternal concern for others, Christians or not, for Christian faith is a progressive assimilation to the Father's only Son who is universal in His concern--in His life, His death and His eternal priestly intercession in behalf of all men.12 In yielding to the Spirit, in allowing Him to consume our selfishness, we are made Jesus all over againJ~ In him all walls of separation from our fel-lows crumble (see Gal 2:llff). With the growing appreciation that Christian life is a OAs Kwant writes: "We are intentional beings and not centered on ourselves. We achieve a meaningful existence through the reali-zation of values. The situation is not such that we find first in ourselves, in our so-called interiority, the fullness of meaning and value and that, next, our giving of meaning in the world and in encounters with other human beings are an effusion of our interior fullness. Divorced from the world and from the others, there is only emptiness in ourselves" (Remy Kwant, Phenomenology o] Social Existence [Pittsburgh: Duquesne University, 1965], p. 239). ~°See Lynch, lmages, pp. 19-20 and 31. n See John Macmurray, Persons in Relation, p. 66. = "The first characteristic of faith today I should like to stress can be summed up in one word: brotherly . Faith both presup-poses the community and creates it; the courage to believe is always born of a pentecostal event, where many are gathered together in unity of purpose. Faith is our confidence in the personal experience of others, a conviction gained through the power of the Spirit which is at work in others, our personal experience of the Spirit given to us for the sake of others, This permanent characteristic of faith., should be one of the most notable characteristics of the form of faith today. It cannot be sufficiently stressed, however, that this brotherly love is not directed towards an abstract but toward our actual brother here and now, our 'neighbor' " (Karl Rahner, Belie] Today [New York: Sheed and Ward, 1967], pp. 54-5). as See Barnabas Ahern, New Horizons (Notre Dame: Fides Dome Book, 1965), p. 94 and passim; Piet Fransen, "Towards a Psychology of Divine Grace," Cross Currents, v. 8 (1958), p. 219; Franqois ¯ Roustang, Growth in the Spirit (New York: Sheed ~ Ward, 1966), p. 21; and Amed~e Hallier, "God is Friendship: the Key to Aelred of Rievaulx's Christian Humanism," American Benedictine Reoiew, v. 18 (1967), p. 403. 4- 4. 4- Being-toward- Community VOLUME 28, 1969 723 ÷ + Edward G. Bozzo, C.F~X. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS call to brotherly faith, brotherly existence and care, there is a concommitant realization that religious life as the radical living of Christian life is predominantly brotherly existence. Insofar as religious life manifests this, its fundamental nature, it renders its primary serv-ice to both Church and world. This conception of the nature and function of religious life holds implications of highly practical import. The following paragraphs aim to explore some of them by attending primarily to the intramural living of religious life. As stated previously in touching on "formation," all religious must appreciate that each of them is involved in striving toward community. Recognizing this, one practical suggestion that has been proffered with increas-ing insistence is that religious cannot attain this by living in large groups in Mussolini-modern buildings.14 With-out disputing this recommendation, I submit that the import of religious life as fraternal existence in Christ lies deeper than the intimacy to be attained by living in smaller groups in cosier houses. Keeping the communal nature of reigious life to the fore means realizing that no religious can achieve "his perfection," his union with Christ, by an idealistic leap up to God which would ignore his concrete relations to his fellow religious. Each of us approaches God only by living for his particular brethren at hand, centering his interest in them and not in himself. To live this is to live in Christ; more specifi-cally, it is to live Christ's kenosis. Capsulizing St. Paul's view of Christian life again, one may see it as a progres-sive yielding to the Holy Spirit who transforms us into the image of the Father's only Son. And this Son is one who lives His whole existence towards the Father through a self-forgetful concern for all men. In sum, the Christ in whom we live, move, and are, the Christ into whom we are transformed through the Holy Spirit's action in us, is a self-emptying Christ, not a self-regarding Person.1'~ Selfishness in this perspective is not just per-sonal immaturity, it is--far more significantly--a resis-tance to grace, a refusal to let the Spirit take over in us so that the Christs we are meant to be cannot take form in our lives. The poverty, chastity, and obedience of the religious find their deepest meaning in this kenotic yielding to the 1~ In commenting on Vatican II's decree on religious, for example, Wulf (in Vorgrimler, v. 2, p. 330) writes: 'The responsible and effec-tive participation in the common good and in the common task in the spirit of brotherhood can no longer be realized in large communities, for by his psychical constitution, modern man feels lost and threatened in the mass, so that the ideals just mentioned can only be realized in communities of manageable size." 1~ See Piet Schoonenberg, "He Emptied Himself, Philippians 2, 7," in Who Is Jesus oI Nazareth? (New York: Paulist, 1965), pp. 47-66. Spirit, manifested inour heterocentricity toward others. These two cannot be separated, for a relationship to Christ, or to God in Christ, which is not a relationship to one's brothers, is no Christianity at all. The more earnestly a religious strives to live the Christian life, that is, to live as man sanctified by God, the more he becomes aware of his own poverty his impotence, weakness, and guilt and the more he realizes the totality of the de-pendence in which he lives from God and unto God-- the essence of what he professes in the vow of poverty. The more a religious strives to live as the force of God's agape in him would have him live, that is, the more uni-versal his love toward others becomes both in its scope and quality the more his chastity comes to expression. For then he loves as God loves, caring for others hon-estly, 16 with no eye to using them for his advantage but with a creative love that aims to set others free of the myriad forms of slavery which keep them from the liberty to which they are called. This honesty in love-- loving others as the Father loves, with no eye to private gain is the essence of religious chastity. The more the religious yields to God's beckonings to him, the more he follows the particularities of God's petitioning of him through others---even to the point of yielding his life for them, the more the relig!ous lives obedience to the Father. The depth of asceticism that is required to live this style of Christian existence, the depth of personal prayer required to maintain and nourish this kenotic orienta-tion needs no commentary. It involves many dyings be-fore death, surrendering the comfortable illusion that each of us is a special case, that life and other people should make exceptions in our regard. It means living Christ's life of service and in so doing becoming a vehicle through which the glory of the risen Christ is manifested. As Ratzinger writes: "A true parousia of Christ takes place wherever a man recognizes and affirms the claim on his love that goes out from a fellow man in need." lz Much more could and should be ex- 1BChastity is emotional sincerity. See John Macmurray, "The Virtue of Chastity," in Reason and Emotion (London: Faber and Faber, 1962), pp. l17ff. x7 Joseph Ratzinger, The Open Circle: The Meaning o] Christian Brotherhood (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1966), p. 119. The glory of the Father is the brotherhood of all men in his Son Jesus Christ. Our life as a community and as individuals, serving one another and others, must make the name of the Father known, manifest His glory by seeking the brotherhood of all men in Christ Jesus. But the source of this, it cannot be sufficiently emphasized, is God's love for us---this is what makes us persons fundamentally. What we have to give is God's love (see the Epistle to the Philippians). At this profound level the operative law is: All receptivity is produc-tivity, as SOren Kierkegaard notes in SOren Kierkegaard's Journals + + + Being.toward- Commu~nity VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ 4. ÷ Edward G. Bo~o, C.F~X. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS plored regarding the linkage between religious life and kenotic Christology as this constitutes a promising vein for elaborating a theology of the religious life. However, the few hints offered will have to suffice for the moment, so as to attend to other implications of conceiving reli-gious life as a process of being toward community. One of these is that religious life as brotherly existence does not mean that the uniqueness of each religious is abolished. Quite the contrary. As Teilhard de Chardin was fond of phrasing it, true union differentiates,is That is, when we put into act by living communion with others the mutuality which makes us persons, each of us comes to himself. Each attains, at least in some measure, his freedom. The fundamental reason for this is that in friendship, fellowship, fear is eliminated or overcome by love. None of the parties in the fellowship has to pretend, act a part, be on his guard. For this to become a fact in a religious community all must share the intention to live as brothers. All must overcome fear of each other with trust. For fear paralyzes and separates us. Since fear is always fear for oneself in the face of others, it closes us in on ourselves, drives us away from exercising our constitutively mutual relationship to them. Fearful of others, I might seek for God, for free-dom, or more simply, for some sense of contentment not in my relations to others but solely in the life of the mind and imagination--solely in a private spirituality. Others might deal with their fear of their fellow by dominating them, using them as means to their purpose-- even if that purpose be "spiritual" it demeans the persons so manipulated. For fellowship, community, to become an actuality each must be positively motivated toward all his brothers. Consequently it cannot happen if a religious seeks friend-ship with only one or two other members alone, and when each of the parties in this relationship or clique is negatively motived toward all the other members. The trust of each member of the community, his faith in them, must extend toward all of them. Only so can true brotherhood become fact. To the extent that it does, each member can, for example, express his ideas without fear that what he says will be used against him. By the very nature of brotherhood, variety issues naturally-- from the assurance of feeling at home in one's reli-gious family. One does not have to strive after artifical techniques to assert his individuality. He is accepted and and Papers, v. 1, ed. Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong (Indiana University, 1967), p. 395. ~See Robert L. Faricy, Teilhard de Chardin's Theology o[ the Christian in the World (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1967), pp. does not need to contrive test cases to discover if he is or not. More significantly, in the context of realized brother-hood ideas do not divide us. I know that even if you do not agree with my position on this or that issue that you will not cut me off--excommunicate me from your con-cern. And you have the same assurance from me. When each member of the community feels secure in this confidence our differences, whether in the realm of ideas or otherwise, are a potential source of enrichment for all of us. We are free to work out fruitful constructive forms of compromise to further corporate action. Every dif-ference between us does not become a wall of separation dividing brother from brother, camp from camp. Such division is our damnation. The future is in our hands only so long as we live as brothers. We cannot achieve any good as a congregation, or as a small community within it, if we do not share the same intention in our apostolic action. Just as we are mutually interdependent as persons, we are inter-dependent as agents. If as agents our intentions do not harmonize, the action of each of .us is frustrated. The future then becomes something that happens to us, some-thing which we await, rather than a reality which we as agents are empowered to determine and can determine when our intentions harmonize and agree with God's intention--that we as religious be one and through our work (directly or indirectly) work for the realization of brotherhood among all men. In this light religious life can be appreciated as the concrete expression of what the Church is. It is the fra-ternity of God's people, His family which lives a broth-erly existence under Him and by so living is the instru-ment for expressing and extending brotherhood among all mankind. The creative energy for realizing this broth-erhood is the agape of the Father Himself operating through the common humanity which each of us shares with every other person.10 The task of the Church today is what it always has been--to cooperate with God under the guidance of the Spirit of Christ in establishing the kingdom of God. The means for establishing this king-dom, for accomplishing this task is the means that Jesus taught His first Disdples. The Church must be a real community on earth which exhibits to the world, in its life and in the relations of its members, the image of the kingdom of heaven, and which acts, in relation to the world outside, in the brotherly spirit of that king-dom. Never has the Church needed religious life to mani-fest this, its nature at its truest, as now. And never have 4. 4. Being-toward- Community 1, See Yves Congar, .4 Gospel Priesthood (New York: Herder aVnOdLUME 28, 1969 Herder, 1967), p. 5, on the Father's love as the source of all mission. 727 men so expressly proclaimed in myriad ways, their thirst for brotherhood. If religious life would only come to itself it could spearhead the realization of brotherhood--- the consummation of personal existence now so devoutly wished. It depends on so little and so big a condition as this: that each of us in his religious family treat each of the others as a friend. 4. 4- 4- Edward G. Bo~,o, REVIEW FOR RELIGIous 728 HRBAN NAAL, S.M. The Community of Today Walls are built either to keep people in or to keep people out. Whether these walls are built of stone, brick, or concrete or whether they are built of weaker material, the object is to keep someone or something in or to keep someone or something out, physically. There are also pyschological walls built for the same purpose, though not always built intentionally. In the Middle Ages cities had walls. Most of these walls are in ruins today or have disappeared as the cities expanded beyond them. In fact, expansion could take place only when the people went beyond the walls. It seemed that as man neared modern times the walls crumbled, "freeing" the community to expand in all directions. It would seem that one could almost say that the walls had to come down if expansion were to take place, for the walls that kept out also kept in. Any com-munity that held rigidly to its walls would of necessity suffocate. Growth took place as the walls came down aIIowing for greater activity, travel, business, communica-tion, work, education. Modern communities no longer have walls. They are neither needed nor desired. Yet, there seems to exist today in the modem world communities whose walls have remained intact since the Middle Ages and who seem rigidly to resist any attempt to break down those walls, whether physical or psycho-logical. The citizens seem determined to hold onto those walls, nor can they visualize that real progress can take place only if they break down these separating walls, walls that are keeping them in and keeping others out. The communities referred to are religious communities and the walls that they will not demolish are not those made of stone, brick, concrete, or even weaker materials but those psychological walls existing in their interpre-tation of what a community is and must remain. Com-munity for these religious is a "living" together and by 4- 4- 4- Brother Urban Naal, S.M., teaches at Vianney High School; 1311 South Kirkwood Road; St. Louis, Mo. 63122, VOLUME 28, 1969 ~9 Urban Naal, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS this they mean a living together in one place at one time by all the members assigned to a particular community or house. What is actually stressed is the physical sharing of one house though they do not seem to realize this. As the modern community cannot be limited by walls that suffocate, so the modern religious community must be ~eed from the walls that bind it. This can only be done through a reinterpretation of what a religious commu-nity is and a realization that a modern community must be a psychological sharing and not a physical sharing alone. To constantly insist upon a physical sharing, a doing everything together, to keep repairing walls that need to crumble, succeeds eventually in suffocating the very members who have retained the walls. Growth can-not take place until the walls are removed. The modern religious community must be bound to-gether by a spirit and not by the physical presence of the walls of a house. The witness o[ such a community must consist in a harmonious interest in the diverse works of each of the members and not in the force shown by a group of people living together under one roof. The community witness must be a living together of diverse ideas and cultures and values. The individual religious, bound by public vows of religion, must be free to leave the walls of the commu-nity for greater activity, travel, business, communica-tion, work, education, and the needs of society at large. He is living in the modern world, not the Middle Ages. He must be trained to think as an individual and not as a group. This is not to say that there are no dangers in taking protective walls down, especially for those who first cautiously venture forth. (Nor is it to try to claim that walls of themselves preclude all danger.) There is danger for the young who need walls to inclose them until they are old enough to venture forth on their own. There is danger for the member of the community who has never been given the chance to go it alone and Who psycho-logically needs walls to shield him. There is danger for the immature in the community who do not have the strength nor security to leave the womb. There. is danger, too, once the walls are down that undersirable persons or ideas might creep in. Yet, to grow in the modern world the member of the community must learn to live with these dangers, to grow because of them. No one can avoid all danger. In fact, it is through these dangers that growth takes place. In learning to deal with danger man matures. It is a fallacy to feel that walls make it possible to create an artificial situation in which all members by a certain age or a certain stage of life become model religious, fitting perfectly into some kind of foreseen mold. Nor can this denial of the individuality of man be called Christian, no matter how much it appears to be the basis of the religious community. The members of a religious community must be trained to use the God-given talents they possess and to grow as individuals according as God made them. Guidelines are not outlawed, but charity must consist in accepting each member for .what he is and for how God made him rather than to how closeIy he matches someone's personal rule of perfection. If the religious community prepared thinking individ-uals using the brains God gave them to use, there would be no need of wails for physically mature persons, no reason to fear the wails coming down. The community of living together under one roof tends to stifle initia-tive and creativity. It forces the members to aim at a common--and often lowest--denominator, regulating the lives of the members according to some precon-ceived general norm resulting in the members actually dedicating themselves to mediocrity rather than to the highest potential of which they are capable. It does not permit each person to grow at his own rate nor to be-lieve according to what he is able to "see" at present. The religious community in the twentieth century must be an outgrowth of the Middle Ages. It must progress with the times and be as efficient as the dines permit. The religious, to be true religious and apostles, must go out beyond the wails to where they are needed, to where the action is. Artificial action and needs cannot be set up within the walls or close-by. The modern religious must carry his community in spirit wherever he goes, wherever he is needed. He must be trained and trusted to carry this community with him, rather than be crippled by forever being tied to a particular house often far from the needs of the world. He must often go alone into the field (be it education, communication, business) to bear witness and to work, even though it be far from an established community of his order. He might even become the center of a new-type of "community" of those working around him. This does not mean that there is no need for the com-munity in the traditional sense of the word. It definitely has a place. It is the walled city or quiet womb in which the religious needs to reside while being formed. It is the "dock" to which the weary working religious needs to return periodically for nourishment and light and the moral support of his fellow religious which is so important to one working alone in the field of battle. The individual religious could not continue to work + + ommunity VOLUME 28, 1969 without these periodic retreats to that haven from whence he came. There is need, too, of the traditional community for those who do not feel that they can or want to leave it. Yet, the modern religious, a religious in the true sense, must be free to go beyond the walls that presently hem him in and thwart his apostolate. To force community members to live closely together under the same roof under the guise that the four walls constitute a commu-nity is to miss the point completely and to miss the modern apostolate completely. The real community is a spiritual thing, a love of and an acceptance of one's fellow religious wherever they are. It is not confined to those living within the four walls of a particular com-munity. Nor is it created by the mere presence of four walls. The normal family with grown members no longer reside within the same four walls; and yet no matter how far they are scattered they exhibit an in-tense loyalty to the members of the family from which they came because of their love and acceptance of one another, not because they happened to at one time reside within the same four walls (which have now crumbled). The modern religious community if it is to succeed must go beyond the walls that they have erected less they awake one day to find that life has pass them by. Let not today's religious communities be the ghost towns of tomorrow. ÷ ÷ ÷ Urban Nail, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS GEORGE C. McCAULEY, S.J. The Toll and Why We Pay h: A Theological Image of Religious Life Religious are always surprised and annoyed by the basic ignorance, even in the Catholic community, of the distinction between priesthood and the religious life, between orders and vows. In the new Church people ask brothers, nuns, and religious priests: "Are they going to allow you to marry?" It becomes easier to live with such ignorance when finally we discover that it is based on a lack of any real interest. But today the question: "What is a religious?" is being posed earnestly and painfully not by others but by many religious themselves. Prophets of doom count the days for religious orders and congregations, and they offer statistics in support of their baleful prognoses. With many religious leaving and fewer entering the re-ligious life, religious are anxious for a self-understanding that will help them navigate through some of the con-temporary uncertainty. A perfectly satisfying self-under-standing is rarely forthcoming in life. We are more in need of a creative and humanly intelligible hypothesis against which we can test our Christian and religious experience. It is the task of theology to set forth such an hypothesis. To that end we will attempt first to describe more thoroughly the religious' contemporary plight, and then to isolate the human (therefore intelligible) form of the religious' commitment, its various motivations, and the content of that commitment or the directions in which the religious life has always and will always take those who embrace that life. The Toll The religious gradually becomes an out~ider to the cultural milieu in which he lives. True, it is hard to iso-÷ ÷ i÷ George C. Mc- Cauley, S.J., is a member of the the-ology faculty of St. Peter's College in Jersey City, New Jersey 07306. VOEUME 28, 1969 4- 4- 4- George C. McCauley, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 734 late a cultural milieu which affects all people in exactly the same way. It is also possible that many religious are more in touch than many non-religious with what-ever cultural milieu is available. We will develop the thesis, however, that the more in touch the religious is, the greater the toll will be that he will pay. If we ac-cept as a working definition of cultural milieu as the main network of achievements, activities, and values that emerge from the physical and spiritual resources of men, then it is clear that the religious gradually becomes unstuck from this network. The reason for this is that most men are usually attached to this network at various points, while the religious fits the cultural pattern only sketchily. The cultural pattern involves at least the triad of job, marriage, and family. The economic, political, and recreational systems of men are geared to and de-pendent .upon man's wishes in those three areas. The communications media feed, and feed upon, the needs that are contained in those three aspects of life. Assiduous-ness, success, planning, ingenuity, failure, social useful-ness, ambition, acceptability, and normality are in a thousand subtle ways measured against the standard inherent in the triad of job, marriage, and family. The religious recedes from this standard, and this gradual recession takes its toll on his'cultural sensibilities. His routine activities have little to do with the cultural standard: his clothing is both singular and culturally meaningless. His language is dissonant: fun, life, enter-tainment, pleasure, anxiety, responsibility, relaxation-- these words have a different ring for him than for other men. His normal working hours are accompanied by different expectations, and hence he misses the rhythms which usually mark the beginning and end of a man's work. He is disassociated from the immense cultural ritual of finding and keeping a mate. His energies are not spent on the intricate process of nesting, of providing and securing goods for a family. He does not shop, keep financial records, save, angle, sweat, or celebrate with the same sentiments or relish that other men have. The point of all this is not simply that the religious does not do what most men do. It is rather to suggest that he gradually foregoes sensibility in these areas. Sen-sibility is itself a difficult term to define. The religious need not become insensitive to the cultural life around him. He knows that men around him are engaged might-ily in their own routines, and he senses these routines in others. But he notes their absence in himself. He can-not perceive them within his whole emotional, self-aware-ness apparatus. The toll that he pays is this sense of void in himself in comparison with the cultural mass which surrounds him and which, by its sheer weight, seems to pressure him to be like it. This realization should not lead the religious to exag-gerate his predicament. Every vocation has its toll and everyone could recount the frustrations and limitations implied in his life choices. What is important is that the religious understand the scope and dimensions of the toll that he will in all likelihood pay. He must situate himself as honestly as possible in terms of his actual cultural coordinates which in his case are not normal ones. Then he must ask himself if he understands why he takes, in faith, such a peculiar stance vis-a-vis his culture. Not that he should so call his faith into question that it ceases to exist. This unimaginative and simplistic solution removes the problem by denying its existence and we can only get so far in life with this gambit. On the other hand religious communities must have a con-sensus of self-understanding against which they can judge themselves and the times. The stresses and strains of living as marginal men in a vast cultural network tend to prove too much for everyone's individual nerves. Only a community's conviction, its faith elaborated in intelli-gible and affirmative terms, can sustain the religious life today. The religious is not helped by being told his life is more than human. He suspects mightily that what people mean by this comes down in the long run to being less than human. Hence he asks for an understanding of his vows in terms of their true humanity. Reasons and an Image The religious is pressed to say why he does what he does. Up to a point he can answer that Christ's example is what motivates him. But the limitations of this ex-planation of the religious life are apparent. For one thing, we are not Christ. For another, the Scriptural references to "imitating Christ" (1 Th 1:6; 1 Cot 4:16) apply to all Christians, not to one class or group of Christians. The same is true of the Scriptural ref-erences to "following Christ" (Mt 8:22; 19:21; 12:26; 19:28; Mk 9:38; Jn 8:12). Again, the picture of the way Christ actually lived is difficult to disengage from the sev-eral layers of testimony about Him which we have in the Gospels. In other words, we do not have any ready-made picture of what His poverty, chastity, and obedience looked like, and this makes our claim as religious to be imitating Him more difficult. The Son of Man did not have a place to lay His head, but He had a devoted fol-lowing of women and it is hard to see how anyone in those circumstances would have to do without material necessities. He was obedient to the Father, but was such .I-÷ 4- TI~ Toll VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ George C. McCauley, REV]EW FOR REL[GIOUS obedience more difficult than obedience shown to men and women who do not have all the Father's advantages? He was celibate in a culture that did not set as much store as we do today on mutual love between man and woman, on personal sexual attraction and its flowering in family life. We will return to the question of the reli-gious' relationship with Christ in a moment. The point here is that expressions like "imitating" Christ which recur in our traditional formulations of the religious life are not by that simple fact illuminating when we come to examine what the religious life is. We are there-fore forced to take a closer look at the religious life as a form of human activity. One advantage to this ap-proach is that the religious might get a clearer, more identifiable picture of what he is doing, even apart from the question of why he is doing it. What image, then, will help us understand what the religious is doing? We will suggest as a basic charac-terization of that life its daring nature. By this is meant more than that the religious is exposed to the toll men-tioned earlier and hence that he risks not surviving his being distanced from the cultural milieu. Not surviving is a risk, to be sure, but a risk is not a dare. The latter has a more positive connotation and requires a more ex-tended analysis. When we speak of a daring feat or of a daring way of life, the emphasis is less on the possibility of failure as it is on the uniqueness of accomplishment involved. The accomplishment takes place in the face of obstacles and danger, but these aspects are subordinate to the inner content of the accomplishment itself. Examples of daring are varied. There are daring feats of exploration, .of physical prowess or menta! endurance, of both of these latter in varying combinations. We even speak of daring crimes. Daring stems from a certain persistent determina-tion to do something which (though not necessarily be-cause) other people do not do. This determination settles on what is uncustomary.The darer fixes on strange goals and pursues them with a single-minded intensity. He is oblivious to commentary, favorable or not, on his ac-tions. It is not a question of toughness nor of unconven-tionality. The darer may be outwardly the mildest and most unprepossessing person in the world. But he is capable of totally concentrating on the steps which sepa-rately and together form his achievement. We cannot deny that his dare resembles an obsession. He is also sub-ject to the usual urge to limit and falsify the demands of his dare, to exaggerate his readiness, qualifications, and technique for daring properly. But these he corrects in order to be true to the dare. The point here is not to ask why he dares, but to ob- serve the act of daring in itself, its rigid demands, its engrossing personal fascination for the darer, and its indifference to other ways of acting. This indifference is important. The mountain climber, for example, can be questioned endlessly as to why he does what he does. He is in effect being asked to justify his daring which often seems to be either sheer folly or disdain for life in the valley. Mallory's well-known explanation of why he assaulted Everest ("Because it is there") is, however, less a comment on Everest, which is there for everyone, than a revelation about Mallory who was different precisely in his d~ring. In his case, as with all daring, we are forced to admit that, to some extent, daring is its own justifica-tion. No amount of scepticism, no amount of bewilder-ment on the part of those who do not dare, can detract from the darer's achievement. The test of the human validity of a dare is the admiration that it inspires in the observer. And in terms of a traditional humanism, the burden of the proof is on the non-darer to show that daring is unjustified. In all this, we cannot facilely iden-tify daring with "doing your own thing," since there is an aspect of human achievement and of human approval to the dare that is often lacking where some attempt to glorify "their own thing." If we apply the image of an act of daring to the con-duct of religious, we get some idea of what the religious life as a form of observable human conduct is. It is a form of daring whose justification, in part at least, is to be sought no further than in its own intrinsic impera-tive as daring. We must practice the same discipline in examining the religious life as we did with the act of daring itself, by postponing questions of motive and of content in order to see the human form of the religious life as such. Hence we may not assume as a general prin-ciple that Christ "calls" to the religious life individuals who are neutrally qualified, that is, ready to lead that life or some other life, with the only difference in the subsequent choice beifig a difference in the degree of love that they can summon up for Christ. Such a view makes the choice of the religious life almost com-pletely a matter of an adult decision to move from a neutral plane to one of greater (more altruistic) love. But is it not more likely that Christ calls individ-uals to this life because they are daring types, that is, because they have, before any adult decision related to Christ, something in themselves which is capable of and which demands living a dare? The rich young man in the Gospels was sad that Christ invited him to a life of poverty and of dedication. This narrative has sometimes led to the impression that a call from Christ brings a person who supposedly stands in neutral balance before various ~÷ ÷ ÷ Tlw Toll VOLUME 28, 1969 George C. McCauley, S.J. REVIEW FOR REL~6~OUS possible life options to choose a "lfigher" state into which he then fits his talents. But such a view of Christ's calling may not credit Christ with sufficient politeness. The call of Christ is perhaps better adapted to our in-dividual capacities than we expect. The rich young man's sadness is not only to be attributed to the fact that, in following Christ, he will have to do without his riches, but also to the fact that he is the kind of person who should dare to do without riches if he is to respond to the imperatives of his own deepest person which Christ sees more clearly than he does. How then do such terms as "greater love," "closer following of Christ," or "higher state" apply to the re-ligious life? If, as we will suggest later on, the religious' dare also turns out to be of immense service to the Church and to the world, how is the religious to relate his own imperative as a darer, this personal and quite human as-pect of his calling, to the service of others? What we are really asking is how Christ looks upon the individual religious: as someone who should consciously concentrate on the service and love of Christ and of others beyond the measure of what is normally asked? or as someone who should be candidly aware of his own personal imperative to dare, to enjoy the situation of being a darer regardless of how much service or love is connected with it? Is Christ the kind of person who would "use" the darer for the service of the Church? Or is Christ calling the darer to a conscious love and service of Himself and of the Church only in order to reveal to the darer his own true self? If Christ's concern in calling the individual religious is primarily to a!low that religious a large meas-ure of fidelity to what is most personal and quite human in himself--to his capacity to dare--what sense is there in describing the religious life as a call to greater or higher love? The religious life is indeed centered on Christ; and, through this centering, it has a more uni-versal scope and influence. And all this, too, is thoroughly human, even if our cultural norms do not recognize this humanity. But we should not call such a commitment "greater" or "higher" if what we really mean by those words is a commitment that is more universal in scope. Perhaps the better way to describe the religious' relation-ship to Christ is to speak of Christ initially as someone who calls us to love Him and others, then as someone who shows us the way in which we love ourselves, and finally as someone with whom we are ourselves in the daring service of others. There are several corollary observations to be made on our use of the image of daring to help us understand the religious' commitment. First of all, it seems that this image is less suited to women religious then to men, simply because men more than women have been asso-ciated with those activities from which we sought an un-derstanding of the structure of daring. It is risky to sug-gest what daring consists of for the gentler sex; yet, if a parallel image is to be sought, it is to be sought in a con-text of exceptional actions which of themselves call forth human esteem and which also call for unusual deter-mination, singleness of purpose, no apologies, and a deep sense of a specific pull in one direction. Childbearing and putting up with male pretensions are daring enough, but are they not also too universal to illustrate a womanly dare? The will to make sense out of life, and to live its rhythms in one's actual circumstances, char-acterizes every basic vocational choice. It is only where the choice seems to depart from the usual without be-coming bizarre that we are dealing with a dare. Hence women religious must seek the image of their daring in some other more appropriate phenomenon. The only one that suggests itself at the moment is the image of the woman of abandon who sets no store on propriety, scorns convention, and foregoes a good name in the pur-suit of love. Despite its obvious limitations this image conveys many of the qualities that we associate with dar-ing. The second observation concerns "leaving" the life of vows. There are overanxious minds who rule out a priori the continued desirability of a permanent style of religi-ous life. Yet, it is somewhat tyrannical to say that no one should live his religious dare to the end of his days. It overlooks the fact that some people do live it, and live it well for a lifetime, shifting emphases and priorities as the circumstances of the Church require, deepening the main lines of their dare, personally enriched and a source of joy for all around them. But in assessing the permanency of the religious life we have to keep in mind that, where we are dealing with something resembling a dare, we are going to have to keep a respectful distance from another person's commitment. The reason is that we simply do not know who is called to dare and for how long. The Church has always recognized this and has granted dispensations from "permanent," "final" vows, however "solemn" they might have been. We have pre-served, if grudgingly at times, the insight that Christ is not as fanatical as we sometimes wish to be in insuring lifetime commitments. No less a master of spiritual in-sight than Ignatius of Loyola indicated in his spiritual Exercises that there is always room for the subsequent discovery that one's life choices have not added up to a "divine vocation." His sixteenth century advice to a per-son making such a discovery was that they make the best of the situation. In parochial Europe at that time making ÷ 4- ÷ Th~ Toll VOLUME 28, 1969 ~9 ÷ ÷ ÷ George C. McCauley, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the best of the situation often excluded, [or purely social reasons, departing from one's chosen state. There is less pressure on the religious today to continue in a vocation that no longer appears to be divine, that is, that no longer amounts to a growth in charity (beginning at home) for the individual or for those he encounters. We all must wait on the individual to tell us as the fruit of his most interior discovery whether or not in fact he wishes to continue his dare. If he does not, that is, by the unique nature of his daring situation, his business and not ours. It might even not be a bad idea for the Con-gregation of Religious, when issuing papers that release from the vows, to add a word of thanks for the service, short or long, that an individual has given to the Church in the course of daring commitment to Christ. A third observation brings us back to the question of the religious' motivation in choosing to make the dare that his life is. We suggested that his motivation is pri-marily a response to Christ in which the religious may not be aware that Christ's invitation suits his own make-up as a darer. This prior suitability in no way offends against the gratuity of Christ's invitation. It simply gives Christ more credit for exercising his gratuity politely, according to the actual condition of the person whom he is inviting. Yet, the choice of the religious life is open to other motivations precisely because of its dare struc-tare. These motivations are not properly religious and can therefore cause great harm to the individual who acts on them. For example, there is the motivation pres-ent, ironically, in those whose faith is most precarious. Doubt sits in the center of most authentic faith; but where this doubt is severe, and where the person in ques-tion is highly sincere or scrupulous, it sometimes hap-pens that the person wishes to put his doubt "to the su-preme test." That is, he wishes to test it out in the most difficult circumstances in order to be able to say that he gave faith a chance to prove itself to him. A parallel may be drawn here between the case of some religious and that of doctors and psychiatrists among whom a high incidence of depression is found. This depression is con-sidered to be as much a cause of their professional interest and vocation as it is a result of exposure to the hard realities of their profession. Similarly the religious may gravitate to his particular way of life in order to test faith at the extreme. Unfortunately, he may then push himself (or others) beyond the measure of daring to an unbounded or fanatical kind of performance testing, without much joy or real personal exchange, and without the care that distinguishes the darer from the presumptu-ous or dangerous achiever. What the Religious Dares to Do If in its human form the religious life is an act of daring, what is the content of that dare? What does the religious dare to do? As a general statement we might say that the religious dares the normal structures of Christian living. The Vatican Council (II) pointed out that the religious' special act of consecration "is deeply rooted in [their] baptismal consecration and provides an ampler manifestation of it" (Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life, n. 5). This baptismal con-secration takes in the whole Christian commitment to form community with God and with one's fellow men by engaging in a life of authentic cult and. sacramental humanism. It is obviously a very broad kind of commit-ment. How then is it possible to dare it? What the Church has done is to divide up the baptismal commitment somewhat artificially into the less broad categories of poverty, chastity, and obedience; religious center their dare in these areas. What is important to realize is that the normal Christian has a commitment in these areas by reason of his baptismal vows. He is directed to take a stand, in the name of Christ, on material goods and pos-sessions, on sexual and married love, on his relationship of dependence on God and on others. What the religious does is to take these preexisting structures of the Christian commitment and to treat them in a daring fashion. We will analyze this effort in a moment. Part of the contem-porary crisis in the religious life, however, is precisely the fact that the normal structures of the baptismal com-mitment are in flux. Hence the religious is uncertain in his dare. This is an extremely painful state, and all the more dangerous because the religious is, as a darer, a most earnest person, all appearances to the contrary. It is not surprising that many religious are leaving to under-take specific (if temporary) tasks of more than ordinary dedication. To attribute this phenomenon solely to a lack of generosity or to a general softness is perhaps one of the most simple-minded analyses ever made in the Church. On the other hand, the uncertainty attendant upon the religious life today is largely inevitable. The review to which the Church itself and the baptismal commitment are being subjected today creates a state of imbalance for the general believer and for the religious. We can illustrate this in the three areas of the religious' dare. In one sense, little has changed in the baptized per-son's commitment to poverty. There is still the need to resist our tendency to clutter, to surround, to weigh our-selves down with all sorts of paraphernalia which pains-÷ ÷ ÷ The Toll VOLUME 28, 1969 74! ÷ ÷ ÷ George C. McCauley, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS takingly insure or trumpet our personal importance. There is, too, the command and invitation of Christ to share with the needy. In daring these Christian forms of poverty, the religious can hardly pretend that it makes no difference what he owns or what he shares with others. He will therefore continue to aim at divesting himself of those layers of material possession which enable nor-mal people to define themselves in terms of what they have instead of who they are. The religious will bare his person to the world in testimony to the fact that it is at the level of personhood that we most truly exist and Christ most truly works. He will continue to share his talents and his energies with his fellow man. He will also give witness to the fact that sharing at the level of personhood is a far more demanding and far richer kind of sharing than all others, and that this kind of sharing is most illustrative of the kind of redeemer Christ was. But there is a special stamp to the poverty of the baptised Christian today, a stamp which in turn calls for revisions in the way the religious dares that poverty. The Church's present attitude (officially communicated in various encyclicals) toward material goods and toward money is characterized by an insistence on a responsi-ble, intelligent, and imaginative use of these things in society at large. The religious' dare at this level need not imply that he personally receive and keep a salary which he then uses wisely and imaginatively. The prob-lem with money today is not in the individual use of money but in the social uses of money, in the con-structive political uses of money at the institutional, local, national, and international levels. Religious have in fact felt the need to be daring in these areas. They have had to question their investment of money and manpower in traditional institutions and aposto-lates, to consolidate their houses of formation, to avoid reduplication that has no other justification than a de-sire to be true to the Good Old Founder, to fund mis-sionary work conjointly with other groups and even other faiths, to work through civil institutions where these have the moneys and structures to do a job better. But there is always room to improve the quality of our dare. The fortunes of Christian authority are also fluctuating today. Everyone is trying to make sense out of the apparent "disobedience" shown papal and episcopal authority. Opinions range from the simplistic view that we are dealing with a wave of sinful disloyalty to the view that we are developing a Christian anarchy which reduces the relation of the faithful to the hierarchy to a matter of contending power groups. The more solidi analyses of theologians of authority have taken two di- rections: first, to attack facile identifications of Christian authority with those profane forms of authority that we meet in our normal experience (parental, civil, educa-tional, personal magnetism, power, and so forth). What changes, this attack has brought about in our usual attitudes toward jurisdiction, law, rules, derision mak-ing, official teaching, penalties, and so forth, is not yet clear. Secondly, theologians have put Christian authority in the context of dialogue, not as though dialogue were simply the modern style of Christian authority and its pragmatic concomitant, but because of the God-given and inalienable dignity of the individual Christian be-fore all men which demands that he direct his life in responsible freedom, that he assess events with an open-ness to people who think differently from himself. There are innumerable problems in the theology of authority which remain unsolved. Our point here is again to point out that the religious dares what the normal Christian is exposed to in the matter of authority. The hero in the religious community today is not the one who can keep the rules best. Many of those trained to wait for superiors to decide for them what they will do by way of work, apostolate, or formation suffer most. And it is not clear that their suffering offers us the opti-mum example of the folly of the cross. Ironically, the greatest suffering (and possibly the more authentic em-bodiment of Christian folly) comes in the religious' ex-perience of dialogue. Today's religious communities probably have more experience in dialogue than any other large groups of people in the world. In the hours and hours spent on examining apostolate, structures, attitudes, renovation, and local problems, religious have discovered the real dimensions of their divi-sions. This discovery has often been accompanied with confusion and even with bitterness. Some communities have, to all appearances, been destroyed by this dialogue. Others are finding their life less romantic, more stark and seemingly loveless. Still others are discovering that it is precisely in a keen sense of intramural differences that the true nature of Christian faith is emerging. The religious is discovering that he must and can break bread --at least the bread of Christ--with those with whom he differs. He must and can work together despite serious ideological rifts. He must and can love what is really not himself. The image of his religious community as a homo-geneous unit has shattered irreparably. If he does not find a new and absolute source of unity in the principle of dialogue itself, he is doomed. The astounding aspect of this whole development is that the secular world needs precisely this kind of unity-in- diversity at the present time. Nothing could be more ÷ ÷ ÷ The Toll VOLUME 28, 1969 4. 4. George . McCauley, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS pragmatic and more relevant than for the Roman Catholic Church, through its experience of dialogue, to become the spokesman for dialogue in the modern world, to share with the world its hitter experience and yet the constructive healing that it has found in dialogue. We are learning as a community and not simply as in-dividuals to face the different levels of meaning that lie behind human language, to concentrate on that which unites us rather than on that which tears us apart, to rid ourselves of the mentality that says it is easy to dis-agree in lucid and unambiguous terms. Perhaps if we learn this lesson well the world will profit from our presence. The religious communities are now £eeling the pain of dialogue in the most intense fashion. Dialogue has hardly even begun on the parish level and, given our cultural and religious background, it will be only through an "authoritative" command of bishops over a long period that parish-level dialogue will be triggered and sustained. In the meantime religious communities will be asked to dare this dialogue structure of authority. If they are hard pressed in doing so, it is no great surprise. The question is: Is it not worthwhile? The third and most obvious area of the religious' dare is the matter of chastity. Chastity is required of all Christians by reason of their baptismal vows. Unfortu-nately, it is often understood in purely negative terms without much realization that a purely negative view is uhimately insulting to Christ. Yet, the purpose of Christian chastity is that every Christian learn from Christ what it is to be an authentic human lover. Such is the logic of the sacrament of matrimony, in which a couple accepts Christ into the heart of their human love, making His attitudes the standard for their own relationship. What this implies, too, is that, when Christ is introduced into the heart of human love, that love is forced to become open to other people beyond the lovers themselves. For the commitment to Christ as the standard and support of human love opens the couple out to Christ's community who help to interpret the standard and to support the couple in their pursuit of human love. Hence Christ makes even the private love between man and woman more open to others and more enriching for all. The religious extend this principle of openness in human love through Christ. By introducing Christ even more into the heart of his love, he opens himself out to more human contacts, to relationships of support and understanding with more people. Whatever the ac-tual scope of the religious' concern for and contact with people, his intention, and the content of his dare, is to give himself to as many as possible through Christ. Or, to put it more in the actual terms of his awareness, his instinct and his hope is that in not giving himself to one woman in Christ, Christ makes of him a man for all men and women. There are two observations to be made concerning the religious' chastity. First of all, a vow 0f chastity is not something which blots out in the religious an aware-ness of his own capacity for married love. In fact it seems that the more authentic hi~ dare in this area the more proximately ready he should be for married love. We might even say that, without ever mildly compromising his commitment, the religious should try to keep ready in order that his dare never become a sort of misguided m~prise for other ways of living and loving, and in order that his devotion to the Lord preserve its own proper relationship to other loves. Religious love Christ not with some globally undifferentiated or asexual love, but men love him as a man and women love him as women. And unless one has some notion of what the difference between the two is, one risks marring the appropriate overtones to the individual's relationship to Christ. The second remark to be made is that the religious also serves those for whom human love between a man and a woman is a physical, psychological, or economic impossibility. In an affluent sodety who cares for the un-gainly loves? Who sympathizes for the awkward, the ugly, the malproportioned? For people in whom love crouches like a deformed child? For those for whom their own sexuality is an embarrassment or a grotesque albatross? For whom communication with the other sex is at best a halting dumb-show or hollow bravura and at worst a mockery? Against the standard of successful married love, these people are judged severely in most societies. We do our best to hide them, or not to discuss them, because we surreptitiously set up as an absolute standard of human dignity success in married love. The presence of religious can do much to dissipate this false assessment of human dignity. Sooner or later, some0he is going to have to explain the religious who, while he insists on his own dignity, does not measure it by the imperious standard of successful married love. And others, seeing the religious, can take hope for their own dignity. Conclusion Our analysis has not left us without questions. This is inevitable since any theological image is no more than that, a way of understanding a faith experience which constantly runs ahead of our images of it. In admitting the difficulty of reconciling the image of daring with the service aspect of the vows (service to Christ and to men), we are simply expressing in other terms the perennial problem of reconciling love of self with love of others, ÷ ÷ Th~ ToI! the problem of being a self in the world. Other prob-lems lie beneath the surface of our consideration of the content of the religious' dare. A kind of parallel think-ing urges us to conclude that, just as the religious ends up not marrying, not having possessions, so too he should end up not choosing in the face of a superior's commands. This is indeed an aspect of his dare, but only in the sense that the religious foregoes choosing to limit dia-logue, just as he foregoes limiting his human love to one woman and just as he foregoes limiting his person to his possessions. The superior's commands should not ignore the positive purpose of the vows which are not supposed to be some kind of exercise in how-long-can-you-go-holding- your-breath. The religious superior has to realize that the vows open up the religious to the service of all. Moreover the superior has to realize that he is dealing with the daring of an individual person and that his function as superior is not to get individuals to conform to some imaginary and generalized "will of Christ." The superior's main role is to let Christ work in the life of the individual religious, without himself insisting a priori on the possible ways in which and only in which Christ can work. The religious superior can never interfere with the general lines of the structure of the religious life itself. If, as we suggested, these general lines require the re-ligious to dare the baptismal commitment to poverty, chastity, and obedience, it becomes all the more im-portant for religious superiors today to examine their own attitudes toward how the Church today is formu-lating the baptismal commitment. On this point, the general argument in the Church over what the implica-tions of Christian baptism are is taking a further toll on individual religious who feel that their dare is up in the air while the general argument rages. It is hardly sur-prising, then, that the optimists and pessimists line up in about the same way on the religious life as they do on the Church itself. It is curious, however, how optimism also resembles a dare. ÷ ÷ ÷ George C. McCaul~y, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOHN W. STAFFORD, C.S.V. Prayer Life in the Contemporary Community Introduction There are several approaches to a reflection on the prayer life of the contemporary religious community. One could enter the reflection, with the bias that there just does not seem to be much prayer going on these days in the contemporary community, either private, personal prayer or communal prayer. In that case the title of this paper might have been altered to read: "The Decline and Fall of Prayer in the World of Today." A second bias might be a more joyous one. Freed from the routine of the so-called religious exercises, the con-temporary religious leads a life of prayer that is unself-ish, authentic, meaningful, and full of compassion and concern for one's fellow man in God's world of today. The times and places of prayer are utterly unimpor-tant, but there is prayer going on. The forms of prayer are informal, perhaps free-form, or even utterly form-less. But there is substance to the prayer, and substance is certainly more important than form. Our title then might have been: "Come, All You Gals and Guys, Let's Strum a Prayer to the Lord." Or, if one wants to risk use of a language that is not exactly alive and jumping, the title might even be, with a certain appropriateness: "Laborare Est Orate." A third approach might be from the bias of the har-monizer, the synthesizer, the cool observer of the con-temporary scene, who perhaps thinks he is without bias. The reflection then would focus on what is good in the prayer life of religious in the past that should be pre-served, on what should be modified to conform to the needs of today (with a reference, of course, to Perfectae ÷ ÷ ÷ John W. $taf-ford° C.S.V., lives at 1100 Forest Avenue; Evanston, Illinois 80£02. VOLUME 28, 1969 747 + + ]ohn W. Sta~ord, C~.V. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS caritatis, n. 3), and finally on how entirely new concepts of prayer can enrich our religious life. The title of all this could well be: "The Adaptive Renewal of Prayer Life in the Contemporary Community"; perhaps more briefly: "Old Wine in New Bottles", or maybe: "Old Wine in Your Own New Plastic Bag." There could even be a fourth approach (and I am sure more), that of the planner and the prophet. The reflection would be directed towards some kind of schema of prayer life to fit the tempo and needs of to-day. There could be principles and propositions, a sort of blueprint or script or scenario for the ideal type of prayer life for a contemporary religious. This could be entitled simply: "How the Religious of Today Should Pray." The approach here, no doubt with conscious and un-conscious overtones of all four of the above, will be what may be rather grandiosely called phenomenological. The reflection will be that very difficult one of attempting to look at the prayer life of religious factually and with-out bias, non-judgmentally. Perhaps in any meaningful sense this is practically impossible, not only because of the lack of truly factual information, but. also due to man's apparently irresistible drive to look at every-thing through the basic biases of his being. The Facts of Contemporary Prayer The hard facts of the contemporary prayer life of religious are not easy to come by. There are all sorts of things going on ad experimentum; but there seem precious few real experiments with verified data that can be communicated and dealt with in objective study. There are, of course, some generalizations frequently made, but of dubious value. Some examples: religious today have largely lost the true spirit of prayer; there is less prayer today, but better prayer; there is really more prayer going on, in pri,date, although less in public to be seen by others; there are new modes of prayer around that are truly prayer even though they cannot at all be classified into the categories of the past. No doubt such statements are true for selected nmnbers of people, but how generalized we can make them it is impossible to say. But it seems that, based on widespread observation and report, some true generalizations are possible about the present-day prayer behavior of religious. Fewer religious are seen in their chapels, either for private prayer before the Blessed Sacrament or for com-munal exercises of prayer. When they do come together to pray, it is on a schedule that is notably more flexible and less demanding than even only a few years ago. There certainly has been adaptation in prayer "to the physical and psychological conditions of today's reli-gious" (Perfectae caritatis, n. 3). Changes in the forms of communal prayer have been widespread: exercises formerly thought best performed in common, like spiritual reading and visits to the Blessed Sacrament, are now considered more personal and private. The formulas of morning and evening prayer, which in many congregations grew like barnacles over the decades and even over the centuries, have been largely replaced by the official prayers of the Church, Lauds and Vespers or Compline. More recently, these official prayers have lost some of their novelty in those congregations where they were only recently introduced; hence there has been a rather widespread substitution of other readings for the Psalms, and this has here and there taken forms that are as contemporary as the latest popular literature. Today, then, there is certainly more variety, more improvisa-tion, more individual participation in prayer than there has been in the "Official" Church for centuries. It seems that another notable change with regard to the prayer life of religious is that, even though there may be less praying in public, the whole question of prayer has become explosively public. People talk about prayer more than perhaps at any other time since the Golden Age of Spanish mysticism in the sixteenth cen-tury. But the talk today would hardly be understood by a Spanish or any other variety of mystic: it deals not with degrees of the spiritual life, not with problems of aridity and desolation and dark nights of the soul, but with the very relevance of forms of prayer and of prayer itself in a secular age. There is a frankness in today's discussions about prayer totally unknown before. The superiority of prayer over service to others is seriously questioned. The assumption that there should be the same prayer for all at the same time and in the same place is simply rejected. And some of the traditional prayers of the Church come in for especially withering criticism, like the clear implication in the Hymn at Lauds for the Christmas season that the Infant Jesus was cold and hungry, and that choice bit from Psalm 136, at Thursday's Lauds: "Happy the man who shall seize and smash your little ones against the rocks." And "Good Night, Jesus," just does not seem to swing on an electric guitar. The whole place of prayer in the religious life, es-pecially in the formative years, has come under ques-tioning scrutiny. It would seem a valid generalization that until fairly recently young religious fresh "out of the world" and into the novitiate, for the most part, first were taught to pray, according to the accepted 4. 4- 4- Prayer LiJe VOLUME 28, ].969 749 ÷ ÷ ÷ John W. Sta~ord, C~.V. REVZEW FOR RELZG[OUS forms and customs of the congregation. Then, in seclu-sion from the world they learned how to live in charity with one another. Finally, if they belonged to the active societies, after a number of years of formation it was considered safe to permit them to engage in some form of external apostolate for the service of others, where they would meet "people of the world." Throughout they were taught to do all this for Christ who is God. It is not at all. clear that the concepts of Christ and of God of many religious today are those of even a decade ago. The Thomistic God of the philosophers is by no means accepted by all religious today. Maybe this was true a generation ago, too, but the fact is that if it was, one just did not say so! And views of Christ held today by many religious might have been labeled as tainted with heresy not at all long ago. It is not popular today to begin with prayer, for God through Christ, then move on to carefully guarded relationships with a highly se-lected group of chosen souls presumably much like yourself. You begin with people. In your encounters with people you learn more of yourself; and, if you are lucky, you come to see that people, ultimately, cannot really fulfill the totality of human needs. So God enters in, transcendent, it is true, but not at all the God with the carefully distinguished attributes of the old theo-logical manuals, and by no means always the God to whom novices formerly were taught to pray. But this God, nevertheless, is still a God to whom one prays. As everyone knows, a notable change in the prayer life of the contemporary religious, as in the prayer life of the whole Church, is the restoration of the centrality of the divine liturgy. Even though the importance or even the wisdom of daily Mass is questioned widely, and the forms of the Mass by no means always held to what is officially permitted, the Mass is still the great prayer of religious. It is a fact that many are dissatisfied with the Mass unless it is made something that they consider authentic, .dynamic, and fulfilling. The Liturgy of the Word is modified to fit the needs and interests of the participants, and the spontaneous changes made in the Liturgy of Sacrifice are in the direction of more personal meaningfulness and of greater social relevancy. A final fact that might be noted in today's prayer life of religious is that it can no longer be considered as restricted to the "ghetto" of the convent chapel. For the Mass at least, religious join more often than before with others in public church or university chapel. And those who do not belong to the congregation have now a warmer welcome than ever before to worship with religious in their own chapels. Religious, too, like all in the Church, have come to see that ecumenical prayer is a beautiful witness to the uriity and brotherhood of mankind. The PersonabCommunity Tension Throughout what has just been said we can distill out, amongst other things, a tension between the per-sonal or the private and the communal or public that, it would seem, is the greatest in history. Whether, as some would say, in the past the person became lost in the group or, as others would say, the group bestowed per-sonal fulfillment on the individual, there did in fact seem less tension between the two. Some things were done privately, some together; there seemed litde debate about it all. Certainly, there have always been in reli-gious communities as in all societies this elemental con-flict between the individual and the collectivity, the age old philosophical and very real and practical problem of the one and the many. But the conflict was generally controlled in the area of religious prayer. Today we witness a tremendous development of per-sonalism, of emphasis on the dignity and integrity of the individual. Though there is around, even in our highly sophisticated society, a lot of compulsive conforming to group norms and tribal customs, there is a more wide-spread and more intensive insistence on the importance of the individual. Read the documents of Vatican II and the pronouncements of our own contemporary popes; read the Declaration of the Rights of Man of the United Nations; recall the Four Freedoms of a generation ago; note the contemporary emphases everywhere on the rights of conscience and on freedom of religion; look at the map of the world. Everywhere there is insistence on self-government of peoples, on responsible self-determi-nation of the individual. Truly we can call this the supreme age in history of the individual person. Paradoxically, we can also see that never before in history has there been more "community." This can be seen, at one level, in the communications explosion of our age, the mass media of communication, the break-down of barriers of space and time by jet and satellite. Although there is certainly not peace throughout the world, nevertheless as never before in history a political or diplomatic brushfire anywhere is watched with alarm lest it become a world conflagration. Even though all men are by no means brothers, there is a longing for universal brotherhood, and progress towards it, that are truly remarkable. There is a concern for the poor and the unlettered and the deprived of the world as never before. This is clearly evident on a more local level. Vast groups of our own population are outraged, not because + + Prayer Liye VOLUME ~8, ~tg&~ ¯ 751 + 4. 4. John W. Sta~o~d~ .$.V. REVI

Issue 11.5 of the Review for Religious, 1952. ; A. M. D.G. ' ' Review for Religious SEPTEMBER i5, 1952 Congress of Religious . The Editors Towards Continual Prayer . Pa.I DeJaegher Cases o~ Illegitimacy . Joseph F. Gallen ' "~ . Pius XII and Our Lady . JohnA. Hardon "Meaning" of A.M.D.G . Walter ~J. Ong Q, uesfions and Answers Book No÷ices VOLUME XI NUMBER 5 REVIEW FOR. RELIGIOUS VOLUME XI SEPTEMBER, 1952 NUMBER 5 CONTENTS CONGRESS OF RELIGIOUS~The Editors . 225 TOWARDS CONTINUAL PRAYER--Paul De Jaegher, S.J . 231 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . ¯ . 241 PRACTICAL AND PASTORAL C/(SES ON ILLEGITIMACY~ Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . " . 242 COMMUNION CARD FOR HOSPITALS . 248 COMPLETE TEXT OF SPONSA CHRIST1 IN ENGLISH . 248 LEGISLATION OF SPON,$A CHRI,~TI . 248 POPE PIUS XII AND OUR LADY---3ohn A. Hardon. S.J . 249 "A.M.D.G.": DEDICATION OR DIRECTIVE~Waher J. Ong, S.J. 257 TEN-YEAR INDEX--LIMITED SUPPLY . 264 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERSm 21. Moral Obligation of Voting . 265 22. Boundary of Novitiate . 269 23. On Reading Rodriguez . 269 24. Change in the Habit . 270. 25. Applying Indulgences to Souls in Purgatory . 270 26. Honoring'Bequests for Masses . . . '. . 270 27. Unrealizable Desires for Sanctification . 271 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 272 BOOK NOTICES . 274 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1952. Vol. XL No. 4. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the Colleg.e Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by Sty Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matteb ,January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the a~t of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Jerome Breunig, S.J.; Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Adam C. Ellis, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.3.; Francis N. Korth, S.3. Copyright, 1952, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota- ~ions of reasonable le.ngth; provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Congress ot: Religious The Editors ~"HE first National Congress of Religious of'the United States w.as .| held at "th~ University of Notre Dame, August 9 to 12, 1952. Three members of our editorial staff attended as delegates. At the various sessions we tried to note points that would be bf special interest to our readers: and, since it was impossible for us tobe per-sonally present at ail the different sectional, meetings, we asked many friends t~ make similar n6tes. ,The present report is made up from these notes "jottings" might be a better word. .Regarding our report, let us make two observations. First, it is not intended to be a complete a&ount of the Congress. Official Proceedings of the Congress will be published soon and will give this complete accountl ' Secondly, even as an incomplete account, our re-port is not adequate; it represents merely what a comparatively tiny number of de'legates considered point.s of spedal interest. It would .help us greatly if other delegates who read this rePort would Suppl~- ¯ ment (or~ correct, if need be) this material by sending us communi-cations containing their own impressions: And it would also ,help if any r.eaders, whether delegates or not, w, ould send their observations on the points recorded her~. This "request for commtinications r~eeds emp,hasis. The Congress opened up for discussion many vital points concerning our religious life; but because of lack of time it could do,no more than start the discussion. Readers' of this Review would do a great service to the ~ellgious life in this country if they would continue this discussion. by the frank and constructive expression of theii own observations-on these ~;ital points. Purposes of Congress " The Congress was summonedby the Sacred Congre~gfition of Religious, as a mean~ of intensifying and. strengthe.ning the religious life in the United States, of givii~g religious of all institutes an op-portunity to exchange ideas and particularly to discuss the problems ~ertaining to the adjustment of the religious life to ~onditions, pie- ¯ vailing in our land without compromising the principles on which the religious life is based. We believe that the. first purpose of.the Cbngress the intensi- ' ,225 THE EDITOP~ Review f6r, Retigious lying ~nd strengtt~ening of. our own. r~eligious life--~as. easily .the central point of the meetings andthat' ~ good start was m~de towards its accomplishment.~ C~rtainly all of us were~ inspire~d with-the de'sire of becoming better religious arid of making our" institutes more.effec-tive means in the great work of the Church. As c~n'e Sisterwho helped us p~epare?these notes put it:. "Probabl~ among the fi, nest outcomes of the First National .Congress of Religio,us of the Ufiited States will be a'faller.realization'on the.part ofeach community, whether large or ~all, of iis.actual, p~iticipation and impqrtance.in i~he Mystical -Body. of ~hrist; a deeper feeling of p~rspnal love for our Holy Father' and an appreciation Of his interest in our spiritual and temporal well- .,being; an~under.standila~g of the ,eagerness,. of the members 6f the Sacred Congregation of Religiou~ to serve our need~s and tO assist us to b~come holy, saintly' religious; and finally, a cloker bond among th( religious communities'of the United States, with e~ich ~roup cor~: scious of its imp6rtance to the good of the whole 'and, ready to assist in furthering the 'apostolic endeavors of every, other institute:" ¯ The other purposeF-~-the ekchange of ideas and the consideration of nece~sary adjustment~--also received their due attention" at both the scheduled sessiofis and the informal meetings of smaller groupL The on.e flaw in the plaorfing of the Congress, if there was 0ily fl~w,. was that there were so many.papers that the.re was not sufficient time for discussion°fr0m the floi3r. Nevertheless, a fine beginning was made, and w,e hope that what was begun at Notre Dame can be car- ¯ tied on much further in' the discussi6ns in this R~view and in smaller meetings that can be arranged from time ~o time. . Organization .The Sacred Congregation of." Rhligioussent. f~ur representatives to theCongress: .The Most Reverend Atcadio LarraonL C.MIF., Secretary of the Congregation: the Very Reverend Giuseppe\Gi.am- ~pietro, S.J., the assistant to Father Larraona i~ the organization of regional "meetings of religious; the .Very Reverend Elio Gambari, S.M.M'., .whose specihl duty is-to handlethe affairs of refigious :in the United States; and the ~i~y Re;gerend Edward 'L. Heston, C.S.C:, the Secretary G~ner~l for, the Congress in the United States. ¯ The Congress was divided into two sections, for religious n~dn and religious women respective.ly. The Very-P(everend John ~J. Cavanaugh, C.S.C., who was President of the University of Notre .Dame atthe time the C6ngress was.plhnned, wasHonora.ry~Chair- 226 ~September, 1952 , (~ONGRESS OF RELI,.GIOUS manfor both groups. Executiye Chairman for Religious Men was. the "Very Reverend FranCis J.Connell, C.SS.R.; and for Religious W~men, the_Reverend Mother Mary. Gerald Barry,. O.P., the Supe-rior, General 6f the.Domlnican Sisters of Adrian; Michigan. Co- - ordinato.r of the. Congress'was the Re~'e~end Alfred F: .Mendez. C.S.C. The work done by Fathers Connell and Mendez and Mother " Mary Geriild in preparing for th~ Congress "was little shdrt of miraculous. They had only al~out three months tb make their pre-parati6ns, yet every detail, both Of the preparations and Of the'actual carrying out of the"Congre.ss,: was S~l~erbfy:planned and executed. As one small sample.migh~ l~e instanced the plans for daily Masses: there, were seven hur~dred Masses.each day; yet there was not the 'slightest -c~nfusion or difficulty in getting, iri ~he Masses. ~ ¯ Other members of the Committee for the sectlon of Rehgmus ¯Men were: theVery Rev~:end Godf.rey Diekmann, O.S.B.; the Very Reverend Philip F. Mulhern, O.P.: the,.Very Reverend'Thomas .~. Plas'smann, O.F.M.: the Ve~y Reverend Adam C. Ellis, "S.J.: the Very Reverend Basil Frison, C.M.F.; Venerable Brother Alexis Vic-.- tor, F.S~C.; Venerable Brother Ephrern O'Dwyer, C.S.C.; Vener-able Brother William, ~.F.X. O~her members of the committee .for Religious Women were: the Re~,erend .Mother M. Catherine Sullivan, D.C.: the Reverend'. Mother-M. Rose Elizabeth, C.S.C." the Reverend Mother M. li~n, C.S.J.; the Reverend 'Mother M. Joan 0t: Arc Cronin, O.S.U. the Reverend. Mot'her Mari~Helene,. S.P.: and Sister M. Madeleva.;" Spiritual Ideals In one wa.y'or anothe'r many. of the discussions at the C~ngr~ss centered on the clarification of the spiritual ideals common to reli-gious. ins~itfltes and on the .means. of¯ attaining these ideals., Particu-larly stressed was.~he fact that religious.need a deep pers'orial devo~ tion to Christ. Basic to such a devotion is the knowledge of.Christ; iand the young r~llg~ous must be.helped ~o get th~s knowledge, partly through Well-planned reading, and~mostly through prayer--for it is ~i knowledge.of the heart, and it is given by the Holy Ghost to ~hose " who humbly and perse~'erifigly seek it. ¯The fervent-reception of. Holy Communion-is a great help to.the atta!ning of this interior -knowledge and devotion. Incidentally, in. the men:s discussion 6f this tiepin, it was poin~e~, out that here, as i~ Other aspec~so,of their religious training, youri~ religious are inspired.by the goqd example ¯ 227 THE EDITOR,S " Review/:or Religigus of thei~ elders-and are proportib.nate!y harmed by thelack of such example. Several discussions also emphasized the need of a sense of per, sor~al responsibility. For. instance, one danger oK the religious life, with its many exercises in common, is .what migl~t be called "~herd-spirituality": one goes to the exercise automatically and takes.part with a sort, of detached numbness, ,as though ¯partially anesthetized. The chief wa~ to counteract this is the constant striving on the part of the individual to make the exercls~ personal. Also, some religious who lead an active aposl~olate, especially in small houses, .are fre-quently unable to have common exercises. They can lose the rell-gious spirit completely Unless through their own personal efforts they try to form a plan for making their various spiritual exercises in private. " The same idea of personal responsibility, under the formality of per_sonal initiative, was prominent in the men's discussion of religious obedience. It was pointed out,that apostolic initiative is n6t stifled by obedience, though it must often be controlled for the common good, as well as for the good of the individual. The rel, igious who always waits to be told what to do. is by no. means the model of perfect obedience, and the superior who requires this of his subjects is by no,means the perf.ect superior. , In a paper t, bat all will read With interest and profit, the Very Reverend Giles Staab, O.F.M.C~'p., reduced the moral qualifications of candida.tes to the religious life to the)four virtues of generosity, docility, prudence,~and loyalty. The generous candidate will¯have the r~quisite piety, the fight intention,' the chastity, and the zeal. The docile candidate will be obedient and thus further the Work of the i.nstitute. The prudent candidate will have good jiadgment and emotional control. And ~he candidat~ imbued with a spirit Of loya[t~t.will, be ready to subordinate his own interests to thqse of the community and will, as a natural consequence, b~e a, gobd communi@ man: a religious withsocial 'balanch, cgurtesy, and considerateness." Conte~ptative Life The .Right Reverend Abbot M. James Fox, O.C.S.O., gave' an interesting and informative talk about the contemplative life in gen-eral and the Trappists' life inparticular. He said that there is.a great hunger for thec0ntemplative life in modern America, . and he illustrated this statement.by quotin~ excerpts from man'y letters'that h'e has received from applicants to the' Trappi~ts. The Trappists,., 228 " ' v Sep~ei'hber~ 1952.- " CONGRESS OF RELIGIOUS he said, have about ~700' novices in their varigus" houses ~throu.ghmit the world';" ,approximately half:of these novices ,are, in the' United State~.'In less than ten years the" Trappist monasteries in 'this country have increased from three' to ten.," °, "'- .~, Why the attraction to "contemplative orders?.+. At one of Sisters' sessions it was suggested that yout.h are attracted to the co.n= templative life because they,feel that in this life they can

Issue 3.2 of the Review for Religious, 1944. ; :Review,fo¯ r R e h g o u s" MARCH 15, 1944 ,; ~' ~"The Worst of Sinners" . Ar, nold J. Benedeff~' ~ 7 B~beuf on Missionary Vocations . Augustine Klaas - Your PredominantXendency ~ "Pafrlck M. Regan . ~-Su, cjge.~hon from the Fec÷Ory . . . John E~ CQogan~ ':The 'Badder,' the Better" . . ." . . . G_. Aucjusfin~e Ellard Concern|ng, Vocat|ons . The Editors Book Reviews Ouestlons 'Answered Decisions 5f the Holy See. krOLUME III NUMBER :~.VOLUbIE III MARCH 15, 1.94.4 NUMBER 2' Im CONTENTS ON BF.ING "THE WORST OF SINNERS"--Arnold J. Benedetto, S.J. 73 BRI~BEUF ON" MISSIONARY VOCA,TIONSmAugustine Klaas, S.~1. 80 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . , . 93 WHAT IS YOUR PREDOMINANT. TENDENCY?m Patrick M. Regan,,S.d . 94 A SUGGESTION FROM THE FACTORYmJohn E. Coogan, S.3. 103 D~CISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE OF INT,EREST TO RELIGIOUS111 "THE 'SADDER,' THE BETTER" G. Augustine Ellard. S.d. 112 BOOKLET NOTICES . ~24 CONCERNING VOCATIONS The Editors . 125 WANTED: LETTERS ON RETREATS! . 128 TRY' ITH S IN YOUR EXAMEN!~RIchard L. Rooney, S.J .:. .,,1,29 WH0'IS SAINT JOS.EPH?Wililam Stritch, S.J .1.3.0 BOOK REVIEWS (Edited by Clement DeMuth, S.J.)-- Aids to Will Training in Christian Education: Instructions~ on Chris-tian Doctrine: St. Theodore of C~nterbury; Thirty Years with Christ:' White Fire: The Spiritual Conferences of St. Francis de Sales; From a - Morning Prayer; The Path of Love; Latin Gra~nrnar; Know Yourself; .The Text ,of the Spiritual Exercises: History of the Third Order of St. Francis of Penance and Charity; Mother Immaculata of Jesus BOOKS RECEIVED . 131 139o QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS~ 10. Jurisdiction of Ordinary Confessor . 140 11., Mass Stipends and Poverty .° . 140 12. 'Permission to Give Away an Inheritance .: ¯ ¯ 141 13. Appointing an Administrator, and Making a Will 141 14. Blood Relatives in Same Community . 141~ 15. Lace V'eil for Tabernacle ." . ~. ¯ 142 16. Number and Quality of Candles for Benediction . 142 1~7. 'Place f¯or the Christmas Crib . 143 , . 18. Duration of Office for Local Superior .143 19. Sacristan Should Wash Chalice and Ciborium -. . 20~. Frequency o~ Cofi~ession o~ Devotion . 144 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. March, 1944 Vo[. lII. No. 2. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September. and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter. January 15, 1942. at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3. 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.3., G. Augustine Ellard. S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Copyright, 1944, by .Adam C. Ellis: Permission is hereby granted for quotations of/reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author.,. Subsc.ription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover, ¯On Being "The ~X/Orst ot: Sinners" Arnold J. Benedetto, S.J. N ANYONE;S list of "Perplexing Sayings of the Saints'" there is likely to be found a host of statements in which the greatest of saints profess themselves to be the "worst bf sinners." Now, since self-knowledge is a presupposi-tion for progress in the spiritual life, how can such self-deception .exist in. those who supposedly are far advanced? Or, since humility is based on truth--some saints consider the wo~ds synonymous~--how can we,. without doing violence to our intelligence, consider as examples of humil-ity those whose statements wandered, as it seems, so far from the realms of rigid fact? After all, there is no separate code of morality for the saints. Untruth is untruth. There can be only one "worst" among sinners, and no saint with .regard for truth can claim that he is that one. Of course, we can make allowances for the exaggera-tions of the 01d-style biggraphers of saints. Thei~ love of rhetoric and of paradox, their eagerness to cull from their heroes some "quotable quote", no matter how eccentric it appears when taken out of context--all this, rather than care and attention in making clear the saints' mentality and spirit, may account for some of the less attractive features one comes across in reading the lives of saints. But when all due allowance has been made, there still remains a goodly residue of strict biographical fact leading one to the unescapable ~onclusion that. many saints really did feel themselves to be the least among men, the worst of all man-kind. Further, the Church--which canonizes neither untruths nor errors--seems to extol the humility of the saints precisely in these pa.radoxicaI statements of theirs. 73 ARNOLD J. BENEDETTO Review for Religious The prbblem becomes excruciatingly acute when we read certain books of spiritual guidance and discover to our horror that toe, we o.urselves, are expected to believe, in all humility arid truth, that we, too, are inferior to all other men and more ~inful than all others. We all feel more or ~less willing to accept hi~mbly our place in the universe, but with all the goodwill in the world we fail to see how the proper place for every man is below his neighbor and how each and every person can be a greater sinner than every other person. One" should avoid making even "pious" errors of judgment. Perhaps No Comparison Is Meant One. possible solution of how a saint could ihave said, "I am the worst of sinners," is that the saint was not really making.a rigid comparison with others, bu~ was thinking simply and solely about himself. Thus, the sentenqe prac-tically means, "I am a very great sinner." If theoriginal statement can be reduced to these terms ~:hen we are to c~n-sider the sain~ as completely ignoring the sins of others and as concentrating only upon his own faults. The saints know God much better than others do, they realize more deeply the tremendous value of His gifts, they are more aware of His helping graces. As a result, they are in a bet-ter position to. see the wickedr~ess, the ingratitude, of sin. They contrast th~ boundless sanctity of God with the insufferable wilifulness of the puny man who refuses to admit his dependence on God. Even the least sin is an abomination in the sight of the Lord. Overwhelmed at the thougl~t of~having chosen any finite good rather than the v.ery great, nay, the infinite Good, the saint cries out that he is a very great sinner. A Shift in the Terms of Comparison A very common interpretation given to this difficult 74 March, 1944 ON BEING ~'THE WORST OF SINNERS" saying is that when the saint claims to be the worst of sin-ners he is comparing what he has of himself with what his neighbor has from God. This means either that the saint is comparing his own natural gifts with others' super-natural gifts, or else is comparing his own sins with his neighbors' good acts. In either case, certainly, such a com-parison justifies the conclusion, "I am worse than all oth- .ers." With this interpretation it isquite easy to see how anyone can claim that he is the worst of sinners, for the things that are being compared are no longer on the same plane. Obviously the supernatural is better than the natural, obviously sin is worse than virtue. Such a Simptiste explanation, with its shift in the terms compared, may appear irrational. What it really amounts to is just a clever--some may think, ineptMway of sa)~ing that sin itself is irrational.~ It implies that a certain minimum degree of humility is required if we 'are to avoid sin. At any rate, such an explanation is given by many iearned theologians. It is mentioned by St. Thomas in the Summa Theologica (2-2, q. 161, a.3). Four-Fold Ignorance Some of thesaints, however, when they assert that they are worse than their neighbor, very plainly do not mean that this is so only when comparison is made between what is of God in their neighbor with what is of man in them-selves. .They mean that their own character, apart from the gifts which God has given them, is much more vile than is their neighbor's character considered, likewise, apart from his supernatural gifts. St. Francis of Assisi (one of the most ardent devotees of the policy of. self-depreciation) explains himself thus: "I feel that I am the worst of sin-. nets, for if God had shown such mercy to a criminal hs He has shown to me, that criminal would be ten tim~s holier 75 ~RNOLD d. BENEDETTO Review for Religious than I am.-" St. Francis dearly suggests that the natural dispositions of the criminal are superior to his own. The explanatioh, however, is not.altogether satisfac-tory. Only God knows with certainty the natural dispo-sitions ofeach man. Because of our ignorance of these dispositions of others, arid because we do not know what hidden gifts God may have given others, we cannot claim to .be better than our neighbor. But neither are we strictly justified in asserting that we are worse than he. We may conjecture that we are worse, we may say that possibly we are worse. We cannot claim absolutely to be worse. Similar to our two-fold ignorande regarding the state of our neighbor is our. ignorance regarding our own present and, especially, our own future state. "Man knoweth not whether he be worthy of love or hatred" (Eccles. 9: 1):. .Quite possibly many~ persons who at present are leading holy lives will not.persevere in such a state. God sees the final disposition of their souls and in His sight they very . definitely are great sinners. Experiential Knowledge The solution that we offer as the final one really includes the other solutions," namely, the comparisons and ¯ the four-fold ignorance. But, presupposing those solu-tions, this final solution brings us more deeply into the .psychology of' the sai.nts. It tries to show not 0nly that, ~with certain limitations and qualifications, there is some .objective.truth in .the statement of the saints, "I am wo. r.se than everybody else," but also to give an account of bow the saints actually, within themselves, could feet Sincerely and intensely that they were the most wretched of sinners. The saints did, indeed, have some knowledge of the limitations of others (though they generally ignored that) ; but of their own unworthiness they had an intense:inner 76 ¯ March, 19 4 4 ON BEING ""~HE WORST OF SINNERS" experiential knowledge. The sins and deficiencies of others they knew by observation, :inference, or. hearsay. But knowledge by actual personal experience is more impres-sive and compelling than any other. Whatever might be said of others, they felt, and felt most keenly, that their themselves were guilty. Whatever arguments pro and con one might bring forward juridically regarding the malice .of others, the saints had actual and direct consciousness of their own wickedness. Seeing their own sins and imper-fections in the sigh.t of God, the horror that rose up in their consciousnbss was just as vivid an experience as an attack of acute indigestion. They may have had painful encoun-ters in.the pas.t, when brought face to face with the malice of their sins; this present experiencing, this tremendous illumination laying bare their utter nothingness and worse-than- nothingness, together with the consequent revulsion of a pure, ardent, and sincere soul, this present experience impresses them mdre vividly than any recollection of:past experiences. "Let others claim that they have had o? are having painful experiences when they recounf their sins within themselves--but really they could hardly be suf-fering as I am. My sins must be the worst p6ssible sins. Never could anyone offend the good God as I have." With reference to their very real, present experiential knowledge they are truly the worst of sinners. These "hard sayings", of the saints thus-contain not absolute truth but relative truth--relative, that is, to the source of knowledge. Having this intense experiential knowledge of their own sins, and l~nowing the sins of their neighbor only by observation or conjecture, the saints based their practical conclusion on the evidence of the inner experience and affirmed that they were worse than their neighbor. With reference to the particular type of evidence which alonethey ar.e considering, they are worse than their 77 ARNOLD ~, BENEDETTO neighbor. Another situation in which,~ similarly, the prac-tical,, working truth is different from the theoretical, abstract truth is the case in which a judge knows, as a pri-vate citizen, that the defendant is guilty but, with refer-ence only to the legal evidence at hand, he must, in his o~.- cial capacity, pronounce the judgment that the defendant is not guilty. One may prefer the following example: If a very brigh~ light is focused upon some particular object and one fixes his gaze for a'long while on the object, then that object ~ill be very. cons~picuous, While objects on either side of it will scarcely be noticed; they will be in. the dark, or, at most, in the penumbra surrounding the illuminated object. Ohio's judgment based on what one sees in the light will be much more accurate and detailed than any judgment made coficerning the unilluminated objects. By their inner experiential knowle~lge the saints become acutely aware of their own littleness and of the infinite contrast between even their leastmoral defect and the wondrous sanctity of God. In the light of this knowledge the saints focus their attention on their own defects and at the same time lose sightof, or but dimly notice, their own good qual'ities and thi~defects and gross sins of their neighbor: According to this light they are worse than their neighbor. The Dominican beatus, Venturino da Bergamo, explains that. the intense feeling and percep.tion of one's own defects may be compared to. the suffering of a tooth-ache. The stifferer feels that he is enduring more pain than anyone else; not that he sees in the light of reason that his pain is greater, but that his.own pain is closez tohim than is that of another. And even if he should know intellec-tually that somebody else has an equally bad or a worse toothache, it is still very true that he experiences and his own, not that of the other person. ,Judging on this 78 o ! March, 1944 ON BEING "'THE WORST OF SINNERS" basis, and relatively to this limited criterion, ~ae could say, "My toothache is the worst," "My toothache feels worse." " Conclusion To account for the unusually'intense pain which the saints feel at the consciousness of their, sins and for the' apparent ease with which they become thoroughly con-vinced that they are the greatest sinners in the world, Father de Guibert1 suggests that these great saints receive a very special divine illumination regarding their own sins, that this illumination is of the same order as the higliest degrees.of infused contemplation. We believe, however, that it is also within the power, of each human being to arrive--with less facility and with a less degree of conviction, it is true, than that of the specially enlightened saints--at the. conclusion, that he is the &orst sinner in th~ world. And many saints and spir-itual writers exhort us to judge in this fashion of ourselves. Pride is one of our worst enemies. It is very deep-rooted. J(ny consideration having in itself some real degree, of truth and helping to make us more humble should be wel-comed. It is humbling to consider oneself the worst of sinners. Possibly We shall be aided in forming this judg-ment by making use of the explanations given in the course of this article, namely, by contrasting our natural endow-ments with our neighbor's supernatural ones, by main-._~ "taining the prudent, doubts and suspense caused by our ignorance regarding our neighbor and ourself, and,. espe-cially, by basing our judgment on the evidence or objective truth furnished us by our experiential knowledge of our own faults as opposed to our unfelt knowledge of the sins of others. 1J.de Guibert, S.J. : l~tudes de Th~ologie Mgstique. Toulouse: l~ditions de la Revue ¯ d'Asc~tiqu~ et de Mystique;, 1930. pp. 283-298. :Br beut: on ¯ Missionary Vocal:ions Augustine K!aas, S.J. ON JULY 16, 1636, Father dean de Br~beuf wrote a lengthy " report to his religious superior, Father Paul Le deune, on the. state of .his mission among .the Huron savages, to the east of what is nov,; Lake Huron. The document contains' some fascinating chapters, illustrating what might be called the iomance of the mis-sions. In chh~ter three, however, by way of interlude, the heroic missionary decides to give a timely Word of advice to those in Fiance, .presumably his younger religious brethren, who are ardently longing tpou ngc6h oens' t.'h.e .w floireenig hne m teilslssi oonfs t hoef Nhaerwd sFhriapnsc, et.r iHmes d, oaensd n soutf "feprui.lnl ghsi so(f missionary life, but neither does he omit the ompensatio.ns and con-solations of that aposl~olate. In these lines Br~beuf seems to be giving us the proper technique in dealing with a vocation to the mis-sions. It is' this:~ don't overemphasize the romance, but tell the truth, the whole truth, the bitter along with the sweet, of. the call to the foreign missions. Incidentally, the cbapte~ also reveals the saint's.own virile spir-ituality-- his love of God, his life of prayer, suffering, and apostolic" zeal. Nor is 1-iis human side left out~ He was forty-three when he wrote it. Thirteen years later, tow~irds four o'clock on the after-noon of Tuesday, March 16, 1649, amid dreadful torments, dean de Br~beuf would die manfully the martyr's death for which his whole missionary life was a conscious preparation. BRI~BEUF'S ADVICE TO PROSPECTIVE MISSIONARIES1 We have learned that the salvation of so many innocent ,souls, washed and made white in the Blood of the Son of God is stirring very deeply the hearts of many, and is excit-ingin themnew desires to leave Old France in order to come 1The original French of this chapter appears in The Jesuit Relations, edited by R. G. Thwaites, V, ol. 10, pp. 86-115. I have added ~hereferences to the ~Scripture texts, which in the, original are quoted freely and.in Latin. Except for the added captiofis and a few changes in paragraphing, the document is presented intact. ¯ BRI~BEUF ON MISSIONARY VOCATIONS. to the New. God be forever blessed, who thus shows us that He has finally ope.ned to these tribes the bowels of His infinite mercy. I do not wish to chill the ardor of~-this gen-erous resolve. Alas! it is these very hearts according ,to God's own Heart whom we are expecting. I wish only to give them a word of advice. It is true that "love is strong as death" (Canticles 8:(5). The love of God has power to do what death does, that is, to detach us entirely, from creatures and from ourselves. Nevertheless, these desires that we feel .of working for the salvation of infidels are not always sure signs of that pure love. Sometimes there may be present a little self-love and Self-seeking, if we look only at the blessing and s~atisfaction there is in putting souls in heaven, without duly conlcider-ing the sufferings, labors~ and di~culties, inseparable from these evangelical works. Dit~cult Journe~t " Wherefore, that no one may be deceived on this point, "I will show him how much he musi suffer here for the name of Jesus" (cf. Acts 9: 16). True, the t.wo who came last, Fathers Mercier and Pijart, did not have as much hard-ship on their journey as we who came up the year before. They did not paddle; their men were not sick, as ours were; the.y did not have to carry heavy loads. Still, no matter how easy the trip with the savages may be, there is always enough to greatlydiscourage a heart not.well mortified. The readiness of the savages does not shorten the road, nor smooth bver the rocks, nor remove dangers. No matter with whom you may be, you must expect to be at the very least three or four weeks on the way, to have as compan-ions persons you have never seen before, and to be cramped rather Uncomfortably in a bark canoe, with no freedom to turn this way or that, in peril fifty times a day of being 81 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Revieu~ [oc Religious upset or dashed upon the rocks. During the day the sun scorches you; at night you are likely to be a prey to mos-quitoes. You sometimes ascend five or six rapids a day, and in the evening you have for refreshment only a little corn crushed between two stones and cooked with ycery clear water. Your bed is the ground and often rough, uneven rocks. There is no shelter but the stars. And with all this--perpetual silence. If you are accidentally hurt, or if you fall sick, do not expect any help from these barbar-ians; for .whence could they get it? And if the sickness is dangerous and you are far from the villages, which are very scattered, I should not guarantee that they would not abandon y6u, if you could not follow them unassisted. When you reach the Hurons you will indeed find hearts full of charity: We will receive you with open arms as an angel from paradise; we will have all the good will in the world to do you good, but we are almost powerless to do it. We will receive you "in a hut so miserabIe that I do not think there is in France any by comparison so wretched that I might say: "That is how you will be lodged." ~Harassed and .tired as you will .be, we can give you only a poor mat, or at most a skin for your bed. And besides, you will arrive at a season ' when miserable little insects, which We call taoul~ac here, but "fleas" in straight French, will keep you for almost entire nights from dosing your eyes, for in these parts they are incomparably more bothersome than in France. The dust of the cabin breeds them; the sa3~ages bring them to us; w.e get them in their dwellings. And this petty martyrdom, not to speak of.mosquitoes, sandflies, ahd other like. vermin, continues usually through the three or four summer months. Instead of being the great professor and learned .tl~eo-logian y6u were in France, you must reckon on being here a humble little school-boy, and, good God! .with. what 82 March, 1944 BRI~BEUF ON MISSIONARY VOCATIONS teachers!--women, small children, 'and all the savages-- and exposed to their laughter! The Huron language will be your .Saint Thomas and your Aristotle.; and clever man that you are, and glib speaker among learned and talented persons, you must make up your mind to be for a long time mute among these barbarians. You will have achieved much if, after a considerable time, you begin to stammer a little. Trials and Dangers oI Mission Life And then, how do you think you are going to spend the ¯ winter here? Having h~ard of all that is endured in winter-ing among the Montagnets savages, I can say that it is almost the li~e we lead here among the Hurons. I say it without exaggeration: the five or six months of winter are spent amid almost.continual discomforts~xtreme co!d, . smoke, and the importunity of the savages. We have a cabin built of simple bark, but so well jointed that we have to go outside to learn what the weather is. Th~ smoke is very often so thick, so acrid, and so persistent that, for five or six days at a time, if you are not entirely used to it, about all you can do is to make out a few lines in your breviary. Besides, from morning until night, our fireplace is almost always beset with savages---~:ertainly, they sel-dom fail to be there at mealtimes. If yOu happen to have anything more than usual, no matter how little it may be, youmust reckon on most.of these gentlemen as your guests; if you do not share it with them, you will be considered mean.As regards tl4e food, it is not so bad, though we usually content ourselves with a little corn, a piece of dried smoked fish, and some'fruits, about which I shall speak further on. Up to now we have considered only the roses. As we have Christians in almost all the villages, we must count 83 AUGUSTINE KLAAS on making the rounds of them at all seasons of the year and of remaining there, according to necessity, for two or three whole weeks, amid indescribable hardships. -Add to. all this, our lives~depend upon a. single thread. If, wherever we are in the world, we are to expect death every hour and to be always prepared for it, this is particularly the case here. For, not to mention that your cabin is like straw and, despite all your care to prevent accidents, may catch fire at any moment, the malice of the savages gives, you cause for constant fear on this point. A malcontent may burn you down or split your head open in some lonely spot. Then, too, you are responsible with your life .for the sterility or fecundity of the earth, You are the cause of droughts. If y6u cannot make it rain,, they talk of nothing less than doing away with you. Moreover, I need only mention the danger there is from our enemies. Suffice it to say that, on the thirteenth of this last month of 3une, they killed twe!vi~ of our Hurons near the village ofContarrea, only a day's journey from us. A short time before, at four leagues from our village, some Iroquois were discovered in the fields in ambush, onl~r .waiting to strike a death-blow at some passer-by. This nation is very timid; they take no precautions; they are not careful to prepare arms or to inclose their villages .with pali-sades. Their usual recourse, e.specially when the en.emy is strong, is flight. Amid these alarms, which affect the whole country, I leave you to imagine if we have any grounds for security. However, if wehad here the exterior, attractions of piety, as in France, all this might still be put up with: In France the large number and the good example-of Chris-tians, the solemnity of the feasts, and the majesty of the ~churches so exquisitely adorned, all preach piety to you. And in our houses, the fervor of our brethren, their mod- 8~ March, 1944 BRgZBEUF ON MISSIONARY VOCATIONS esty, and the noble virtues that shine forth in all their actions--the~e are so many powerful voices which cease-lessly cry out to .you: "Look, and do thou also in like man-ner" (cf. Luke 10:37). You have the consolation of saying Holy Mass every day. In a word, you are almost beyond the danger of falling--at, least the falls are insig-nificant and you have help immediately at hand. Here we have nothing., it seems, which invites to good; ¯ we are among peoples who are astonished when you speak to them of God and who often have only horrible blas-phe~ nies in their mouths. Frequently you will be com-pelled to deprive yourself of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass: and, when you have the chance to say Mass, a little corner in your cabin will be your chapel, and even if you had the means, the smoke, the snow, and the rain would hinder you from decorating and embellishing.it. I pass o_.v.er the little opportunity for privacy there is among barbarians, who almost never leave you alone and who hardly know what it is to speak quietly. Above all, i do not dare to speak of the danger there is of ruining oneself among their impurities, in th~ case of any one whose heart is not suffi-ciently full of God to firmly repel this poison. But enough of this; the rest can be known only by experience. "But is that all?" some one will say. "Do you think that by your arguments you haVe thrown water on the fire which consumes me, and hhve lessened ever so little the zeal I have for the conversion of these nations? I say that these things have served Only to confirm me the more in my vocation. I feel more affection than ever for New Frange. I bear a holy jealousy towards those Who are alr, eady 'enduring all these sufferings. All ~hese labors seem to me nothing, in comparison with what I should like to endure for God. If I knew a place under heaven where one could suffer yet more,:I would go there." ~ 85 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Reo~eu2 for "Reli#ious The Briofit Side Ah! whoever you are,.to whom God gives these senti- :ments and this light, come, come, my dear brother, it is workers such as you that we ask for here; it is to souls like yours that God has decreed the conquest of. so many others whom the devil holds even now in his power. Fear no hardships; there will be none for you, since your whole consolation is to see yourself crucified with the Son of God. Silence will be sweet to you, since you have learned to corn- ¯ mune with God and to converse in heaven with the saints and angels: The victuals would be insipid indeed, if the gall tasted by our Lord ,did not make them sweeter and more savory to you than the most delicious viands in thd world. What a satisfaction to ascend these rapids and to climb these rocks for him who has before his eyes that loving Savior, wracked with torments and ascending Cal-vary laden with His cross. The discomfort .of the canoe is very easy to endure for him who thinks of the Crucified. What a consolation--for I must use such language to please youmwhat a consolation, then, to see oneself even abandoned on the road by the savages, languishing with sickness, or .dying of hunger in the woods, and still being able" to say to God: "My God, it is to do Your holy will that I am-reduced to the condition in which You see me," and to consider above all. the God-man" dying on the cross and crying out to his Father: "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?." (Matthew 27.:46). If God preserves you in health amid all these hardships, without a do.ubt you will arrive pleasantly in the Huron c~ountry with these holy. thoughts. "He sails pleasantly, whom the grace of God carries along." Now, as regards shelter, food, and bed--shall I dare to say to a hea'rt so generous and disdainful of all that I have. already said on this point, that, although we are hardly in '86 ,Marcia, 1944 BRI~BEUb ON MISSIONARY VOCATIONS a~better position than the kavages, still, in some unknown way, the Divine Goodness makes every difficult thing easy, and each and all of us find everything filmost the same as in France. The sleep we.get lying on our mats seems to us as" sweet as if we were in a goo~l bed; the native food does not disgust us, although there is scarcely any other seasoning than that which God has put into it. No~withstanding t-h~ cold of a six months' winter "spent in the shelter of a bark cabin, open to the daylight, we have.yet to' experience its evil effects; no one~ complains of his head or stomach; we do not know what diarrhea, colds, and catarrh mean. This ¯ leads me to say that delicate persons in France do not know bow to protect themselves from the cold. Those rooms so well carpeted, those doors so well fitted, and those windows closed so care.full);, serve only. to make its effects more keenly felt. It is an enemy from whom one wins almost more by proffering him one's hand than by waging a cruel" ~var against him. As for our food, I ~hall say this, that God has shown us clearly a very special providence: we have secured within a .week our pro.vision of corn for the whole year, without taking a ~ingle step beyond our cabin. Dried fish has been brought to us in such quantities that we are compelled to refuse some of it and to say that we have sufficient. You might say that God, seeing that we are here for His service, wishes~Himself to act as our provider, in order that we may labo.ronly for Him. This same Goodness takes care to give. us from time to time a change of provisions in the form of fresh fish. We areon the shore of a large lake, which affords as good fish as .I have ever seen or eaten in Frfince. It is true, however, aS I have mentioned, that we do not ordi-narily procure them, and still less do we get meat, which is even more rarely seen here. , Even fruits, in season, are not lacking to us, provided 87 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Reoiew [or Religious the year be somewhat factorable. Stra~cberries, raspberries, and blackberries are to be found in almost incredible quan-tities. We gather plentyof grapes, which are .fairly good; the squashes last sometimes four or five months, and they are so abundant that they are to be had almost for nothing, and .so good that, on being cooked in the ashes, they are eaten, as apples are in France. C0nsequently, totell the truth, as regards provisions, the change from France isnot very great. The only grain of the country is a sufficient nourishment, when one is somewhat accustomed to it. The savages prepare .it in more. than twenty ways and ye, t employ only fire and water; it is true that its best ~auce is - that contained in it. Spiritual Advant.ages As for the dangers Of the soul, .to speak frankly,-there are none'for him who brings to the Huron country the-fear and love of Godl On the contrary, I find here unequalled opportunities for acquiring perfection. Is it, no( a great deal to have in your food, clothing, and bed, no other. attraction than simple necessity? Is it not a glorious oppor-tunity to unite yourself with God, when there is at hand no creature whatever to which you can possibly become attached, and when the spiritual exercises you perform con-strain you without effort to inward meditation? Besides your spiritual exercises, you have no other task than the_ study of the language and conversation with the savages. Ab! h6w much pleasure there is for a heart devoted to God " to become the pupil of a savage and of a little child, in order to win them afterwards for God and make them disciples of our Lord! How willingly and liberally God commuiai- -rates Himself to a soul which practises out of love for Him these heroic acts of humility! The words he learns are so many treasures he amasses, so many spoils he carries off 88 March, 19 4 4 BRI~BEUF ON MISSIONARY VOCATIO,NS from the common enemy of the human race; so that he has /eason to say a hundred times'a day: "I will rejoice at thy ~vord.s, as one that hath found great spoil" (Psalms 118: 162). ,Viewed in this light, the visits of the s.avages,, h.owever frequent, cannot annoy him. God teaches him the beau-tiful lesson he once taught Saint Catherine of Sienna, to make of his heart a chamber and a temple for Him, where he will never fail t~o find Him, as often as he withdraws.to it. And if h~ encounters savages there, . they do not inter-fere with his prayers; they serve only to make them more. fervent, and from. this he takes occasion to present these poor wretches to His sovereign Goodness, and to beseech Him earnestly for their conversion. Certainly we have not. here that exterior solemnity which awakens and sustains devotion. We see only the sub-stance of our religion, the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar, to Whose marvels faith must open our eyes, aided by no sensible mark of Its grandeur, just as in the case .of the Magi in the stable. Nevertheless, it seems that God, supplying for what we lack. and recompensing us for the favor bestowed on us of carrying It, so to speak, beyond ~o many seas, and of finding a.place for It in these wretched cabins, wishes to confer the same blessings on us. which He is wont to confer on persecuted CatholiCs in heretical countries, These good people.scarcely ever see either a church or an alfar, but the little.they see is worth double what, they would see, were they entirely free. You can imagine what consolation there is in prostrating ourselves at times before a cross in the midst of this barbarism, and, engaged in our petty domestic tasks, in turning our eyes towards and entering into the place which the Son of God has been pleased to take in our little dwe!ling. Not to be separated from this Well-.Beloved of the nations, except by a little 89 AUGUSTINE KL'AAS Re(~iew for Reli~lious bark or tree branch, is it not to be in paradise day and night? "Behold he standeth behind our wall" (Canticles 2:9). "I sat down under his shadow, whom I desired': (Canticles 2:3). SQ much fo~. the interior. If we go outside our cabin, heaven is open to us, and those great buildings which lift their heads to the clouds in large cities, do not conceal it from our view; so that we can say our prayers with com-plete abandon in that grand oratory, which Saint Francis Xavier loved more than any other. With regard to ,the fundamental virtues,~ I will glory, no~ in myself, but in the lot which has fallen to me. Or if I must humbly acknowledge it at the foot of the cross, which our Lord in His grace gives us to carry after Him, certainly this country, or ~ourwork here, is much more suited to feed a soul with the fruits of heaven than with those of earth. I may be mistaken, but Ithink that there is here a spli~ndid means for advancing in faith, hope, and charity. Are we t0sow the seeds of the Faith here, and not ourselves profit by it? Could we put our trust in anyone but God in a region where,, on th~ human side, everything is lacking? Cbuld we want a fine~ opportunity to exercise charity than there is amid the roughness and discomfort of a new world, where no human aft'or industry has y~t pro- Vided any conveniences? is there a. better occasion for prac-tising charity .t'han by living here in order to bring back to God men who are so unlike men that we must live in daily expectation of dying by their hands, should the fancy take them, should a dream suggest it to them,.or should we fail to open or close the heavens at will, giving them rain or fine weather a~ command. Do they not make us responsible for the state of the weather? And if God does not inspire us. or if we cannot work miracles of faith, are we not con-tinua~ ly in danger of seeing them, as they have threatened 9O March, ~1944 BR~BEUF ON MISSIONARY VOCATIONS to do, fall upon us who have done no harm? Indeed, if He who is Truth itself had ~not declared that there is no greater love than to lay down one's life really and once for all for one's friends, I should deem it a thing equally nobl.e, or even more so, to do what the Apostle said to the Corinthians (I, 15:31): "I die dai.ly, I protest by. your glory, brethren, wh'ich I have in Christ, Jesus our Lord"-~-that is,-to d[ag out a miserable life amid the fre-quent and daily perils of an unforeseen death, which those whom you are trying to sa;ce will procure for you. I some-times call to mind what Saint Francis Xavier once wrote to Father Simon, and wish tl:iat it mhy please God so to act that at least the same may be said or written one day even of us, although we may not be worthy of it. Here are his words: "'Excellent news comes from the Motucbas, namely, dohn Beira and his companions are laboring amid the [Treat-est l~ardships and continual danger of death, to the great increase of the Christian religion.'" . About Chastity, in Particular There seems to be one thing here which might cause ¯ apprehension in a son of the Society, that is, to see himself in the midst of a brutal and sensual people, whose example, unless special precaution is taken, might tarnish the luster of the most and the least delicate of all the virtues--I mean chastity. Inorder to obviate this difficulty, I make bold to say that, if there is any place in the world where this virtue so precious is safe, for a man who wills tO be on his guard, it is here. "Unless the Lord keep the city, he watcheth in vain that keepeth it" .(Psalms 126: 1). "I knew that I could not otherwise be continent, except God gave it, and this also was a point of wisdom, to .know whose gift it was" (Wisdom 8:21 ). They say that the victories won by~ this .91 AUGUSTINE KLAAS ¯ Review I:O? ~Reli~tious daughter of heaven over her enemies are .won by flight. But I believe it is God and no one else.,who, in the most severe encounters, puts to flight this same enemy before those, who, fearing nothing so much as his approaches, go where His g!ory calls them, humbly and with hearts full of confidence in His goodness. And where are we to seek this glory of His? I should say, rather, where find it more purified and freed from our own interests than in a place where there is nothing to hope for other than the reward of ¯ having left all for the love of Him of whom Saint Paul said: "I know whom I have believed" (2 Timothy 1:12). You remember that plant called "the fear of God," with which it is said our Fathers at the beginning of our Society charmed away the spirit of impurity. ¯ It does not grow.in the land of the Hurons, but it falls her~ abundantly from Heax~en, if one is only a little careful to foster what he brings here Barbarism, ignorance, poverty, and misery, which ren-der the life of these savages more deplorable than death, are a constant reminder to us to mourn Adam's fall,, and to submit ourselves entirely to Him who, after so many cen, turies, still cbastizes disobedience in His children in so remarkable a way. Saint Theresa said once that she never made better meditations thi~n in those mysteries where she found our Lord apart and alone--as though she had been present in the Garden of. Olives--and she called this a sample of her simplicity. You may reckon this among my follies, if you like, but it seems to me that we have here go much the more leisure to caress, so to speak, and to enter-tain our Lord with open heart in the midst of these unin-habited lands, because there are so few people who trouble themselves about Him. -And on account of this favor we can say boldly "I will f~ar noevils, for thou art with me" (Psalms 22:4). 92 March, 1944 BR~BEUF ON MISSIONAR'/ VOCATIONS In short, I i.magine that all the guardian angels of these uncivilized and abandoned nations are continually endeav-oring and striving to save us from these dangers. They know well that if there is anything in the world that ought to give us ~¢ings to fly back whence we came both by obedi-ence and by our own inclination, it would be this misfor-tune, were we not shielded from it by the protection of 'heaven. This is what urges them to prqcure for us the means to guard, against it, that they may not lose the brightest hope they have ever had through the grace Of God, of the conversion of these peoples. I close this discourse and this chapter with the fol-lowing words. If at sight of the difficulties and crosses that are here prepared for us, some one feels himself so strengthened from above that he can say it is too little, or like Saint Francis Xavier "amplius, amplius" ("more, more"), I hope that our Lord, in the midst of the consola-tions which He will give him, will also. draw from his lips another admission, namely, that the consolation is too much for him and that he cannot endure more. "It is enough, Lord, it is enough." OUR CONTRIBUTORS ARNOLD J. BENEDETTO is a student of Theology at"St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. AUGUSTINE KLA^S, Professor of Sacramental Theology at St. Mary's. made special studi~s in Ascetical Theology. PATRICK M. REGAN, Pro-fessor of Apologetics at St. M~ry's, is the author of a previous article on Se_lf-knowledge. JOHN E. COOC~N, a professor at the University of Detroit, has written much on social questions, and will be remembered by our readers for his~ articles on Spiritual Direction. G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD will be remembered particularly for his very "original" article on Hygienic Mortification that appeared in the first number of this review. 93 What: Is Your Predominant:.Tendency? Patrick M. Regan, S.J.~ 441"='EW things better reveal a man than zealous and *"=| persistent efforts to decrease his handicap. That profound and ancient maxim 'know thyself' might be inscribed on the portal of every GoTf Club. He who would attain self-knowledge should frequent the links. If one seriously attempts the task, one will find oneself in golf." Thus writes Arnold Haultain in :his book, The M~jster~t of Golf. '~Know thyself; frequent the links: attempt the task seriously"--these might be styled the ascetical principles of golf. Religious will be quick to see that, routatis mutandis, these principles also express the asceticism of the spiritual life. "Know thyself" would not be out of place on the portal of the religious house. "Frequent the chapel" is excellent advice at all times. "Attempt )our task seriously" is always necessary for the follower of Christ. Such thoughts are a fitting prelude to the study of the predomi-nant tendency, which, in the language of the author cited, is our "handicap" in the spiritual life. In a former article ("Self-knowledge" in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, II, 223), we stated: "Many spiritual writers maintain there is one evil tendency that predominates, bne at the root of most of our .defects and imperfections; that, if we work diligently at controlling this one, we need scarcely expe~id any time.or energy on the rest." The present article will furnish meth-ods and suggestions for determining this predominant tendency. According to many .spiritual writers, everyone is apt 94 WHAT IS YOUR PREDOMINANT TENDENCY?" to discover his predominant tendency among the seven prin- . cipal tendencies to evil, the capital sins, as they are called. Hence it will be helpful at the very outset to make a study of these tendencies, together with opposite virtuds. The following definitions and explanations will greatly clarify our ideas. Pride is ihe exaggerated esteem of self. The evils that spring from pride are: stubbornness, rebellion and independence manifested towards those over us: contempt, harshness and abuse towards tl~ose subject to us: conceit, touchiness, vanity, arrogance, impudence, boasting, striving to magnify one's own importance. Laudable pride is the esteem of one's dignil~y as being Wholly. due to God's free gift. "My soul magnifies the Lord and .my spirit rejoices in God my Savior" (Luke 1:46). Such pride is. ordinate, for joy at success is permissible provided it be so controlled that' it preserves the correct evaluation of self. Humility is a true estimate of s~lf, of talents possessed, together with acknowledgement of lack of talents. Through humility we recognize that we are creatures of God and hence subjec~ to Him; that our bad qualities counterbalance the good that is in us:. that many others surpass us in various accomplishments; that our .talert~s are G~d's free gift~ rather than our own achievement. Avar;ee (Covetousness).is the indulgence of d~slre forthings we may not possess in present circumstances, at least not Without sin or imperfection. Avaiice leads to: violations of .the vow o~ poverty, discontent, unhappiness, dullness of soul towards spiritual things. In a religious it often involves hankering for trifles to give to friends or to retain fo~: ond's own comfort. Conte.ntment is satisfaction with wl~at, we have or with being poor with Christ. Liberality is readiness to share with others, especially with Christ's poor. En~--bitterness towards those we judge superior to us in talents and advantages. It brings such evils as: dislike, hatred, malice; desire 't.o'deprive those we envy of their advantage or to, injure them. Like pride this tendency springs from the intellectual side of our nature. But whereas pride inflates self, giving a.sort of satisfaction, envy emphasizes shortcomings and lack of talent, making us miserable 95 PATRICK M. REGAN Ret~ieto for Religious with consuming bate. Religious are especially exposed to this tend-ency because they.observe a whole array of excellent, even brilliant, accompl!shments and achievements in their brethren. Beneuolence is good will towards othdrs by which we rejoi.ce over their success, or at least resist bitter feelings aroused by e.nvy. Anger is a hot, strong feeling against somebody or something that displeases us, driving us to destroy or injure them. Anger leads to quarreling, fighting, violence; also to hatred, revenge, and bitter talk against people aiad things; to ill-temper and disagreeableness. Gentleness (Meekness or Patience) controls angry feelings, deters from harshness, calmly endures what.displeases, thus conditioning the soul to restrain the burst of anger. Controlling an irascible nature had" much to do with sanctifying St. Andrew Bobola and has sanctified many another to a lesser degree. The same is necessary to sdme extent for ivory religious. Lusf is the desire for sexual pleasure, urging to indulgence not per.- mitred Us. Evils consequent on lust are: immodest thoughts, imagina- ¯ tions, and actions by oneself or with. others; also the tempting of others to the s~ime sin. Lust closes the mind to higher things, destroy-ing the attraction of spiritual realities. A word of warning is here in place. This tendency is so obtrusive, even when not extraordinarily stro.ng~ that one might easily be led to mistake it for the predominant tendency. Hence mature d~liberation is needed before anysuch con-clusion is re.ached. Chastity is control of the desire for sexual pleasure, avoiding every indulgence of it in thought, word, or deed contrary to God's plan in matters of sex. Religious by their vow of chastity have relinquished all right to marriage and its privileges. Hence absolute control of this appetite is obligatory on them in allcircumstances. "GluH'ony is excessive indulgence, of the pleasure of eating and drinking. Iri religious it usually assumes a milder form, ~uch as inor-dinate interest in food, over-anxiety about quantity/ and quality, crlticism of the meals and the cook, an ill-controlled appetite for cer-tain foods.' Excessive indulgence in food results in ill health, laziness, andsensuality. Excessive drinking is apt to lead to a strong.inclina-tion to lust, anger and quarreling. Both forms of gluttony are debasing and cause distaste for everything' worthy of man. Sobriety (Moderation, Temperance, Abstemiousness) consists in retricting one's food and drink to. the needs of health. For religious. 96 "March, "I 944 WHAT IS YOUR PREDOMINANT TENDENCY? some self-abnegation in food and drink is a matter of daily practice. $lo÷h (Laziness) is a slow, heavy habit of. body or mind, shrinking from effort and cultivating idle ease and comfort. Its'consequent evils are: neglect of duty, shirking the unpleasant and troublesome, listless-ness. Idleness leaves the mind open to evil thoughts and desires, and excites temptations to gluttony and lust.: Diligence (Industry) is an instant and constant"fidelity to duty, an eagerness for work. Religious, lacking ihe stern sanction, "work or starve,".can easily fail in dilig.ence, especially in spiritual exercises. Hence" for them. diligence involves zeal for God's glory and the salva-tion of souls. ~ Elimination - Though we may understand perfectly the nature 6f these various tendencies described above, the problem still remains; which one predominates in our souls? A check of the list just giv.en will show us immediately which tend-encies do not hold sway in our soul~. By this simple pro-cedure some individuals have succeeded in eliminating all but the ohe ruling tendency, ' though it must be confessed that this is rather the extraordinary occurrence. As a mat-ter of fact. though, almost invariably five Of the seven can be eliminated even With this cursory examination. There remains then the task of determining which of the remain-ing two predominates. For. approaching this latter ta.sk, let it be noted here, readines~ to face the issue honestly.is the necessary disposi-tion of soul. For that matter, the same disposition is also needed at every point along the way. Hard as it is to admit deordination in our souls, it is still harder to admita ruling ¯ evil inclination. To be good-naturedly indolent is not half as bad as being under the complete .dictatorship Of sloth~ So we incline to deceive ourselves that it is not as bad as painted, .or that it is something else not, quit.e so humiliating. -We even surrender to Satan, allowing him to take over andblind us with his deceits. Courage, there- 97 PATRICK M. REGAN Reoieto for Rel~giotts fore, and honesty, together with a strong resolve to see the task through to ~ finish, are necessary in this quest that leads to self-knowledge. So~trces We begin our quest right in the depths of .our' own souls. Our search is for an outstanding inordinate motive behind our actions. For example, the desire to impress others may ever and relentlessly drive us forward to the various objectives we pursue. On the other hand, the same motive-may sometimes retard us or stop us completely as threatened-frustration drives us to seek an avenue of i~scape. Thus. the deflation of our self-esteem may turn us aside altogether from a praise'~'orthy undertaking.~ It is quite possible for such a relentless drive to exercise considerable dofiaiffation over us without our adverting to the fact. The reason is that We ordinarily observe only our surface acts without ever examining the underlying motive. If upon investigation our findings happen to coincide wi(h the examples just cited, then pride would be indicated as the driving force in our scheme of life and would be set down tentatively as the predominant tendency. We would then proceed to further examination to confi'rm our findings. ,Our next step would be to investigate whether it will explain, at least to a great extent, the deformities we find in our pattern of life. ¯ Hence we question ourselves whether~it explains the difficulties we have in dealing with our superiors, and with others witl~ whom we live or associate, whether it clarifies the reasons for the difficulties which others experience in dealing with us.; whether i~ sheds light on ~he problem of our failure to make progress in the spiritual life. 'If the answers to these various questions point back to the same predominant tendency, we can be quite certain our tenta- 98 March, 1944 WHAT IS YOUR PREDOMINANT TENDENCY? tive judgmentwa~ correct. As the work of self-examination goes forward, mbre and more evidence accumulates to increase this certitude. Aversions are excellent indicators of the virtues most needed~ A long-continued aversion for work tells us ever so plain.ly that we need frequent large doses of exhausting labor to build up the virtue of industry in our souls. Hence we ought to examine o~rselves in this matter of aversions. A simple and brief process it will be, since it is intended rather to confirm our previous findings. "Another help in this effort to unravel the mystery of self is to be more observant ofour thoughts and reactions,. even in unrestrained moments. On these occasions it is well to note what is uppermost in our minds. How often, for instance, all unconsciously, we are busy offering i~,zense to self as we give ourselves credit for being better religious than others, of having more brains, of working harder and accomplishing more. The thought that comes first to mind Oh awakening is significant, as is also the thought l~hat recurs most frequen,tly during the day. These are ungfarded moments in which nature is disarmed, stripped of self-deceit; henc~ like a candid child itcan be very ~elf-revealing. But put it on its good behavior in time of meditation, as it gazes on the meek and humble Christ, and the wolf will don sheep's clothing. How exemplary itwill make itself out to be, in its sweet humility and shining obedience. The final check of this search within our souls will be of our daily examens and our confessions. Getting back to that first motive that prompts our sins and faults will fur-nish new confirmatory light. We shall ~ind, for example, that.what on the surface was a flashof anger, at bottom was a manifestation of pride. Incidentally, with this new lightshed on our habitual faults and sins .we shall be able ~o take effective measures to guard against routine confes- 99 PATRICK M. REGAN Reuieto for Religious sions and to reap more abundant fruit from our reception" of this sacrament. Searching Abroad Besides examining within our souls, we must also ven-ture abroad seeking information concerning outselves. The judgments of others on our characters frequently offer revealing sidelights. For one thing there is less danger of their being prejudiced in our favor; hence, if they but will, they can tell with fair accuracy whether we are proud, or whatever it may be. Since accidental circumstances of time and place or of individual prejudice may falsify the judgment, the more trustworthy-opinion, is the one deduced from many testimonials extending over a long period of time. We gather thes~ by recalling what others said of our failings as children. Parents, family, teachers. companions, friends, playmates instinctively recognized outstanding traits, and in their dealings with us adapted themselves accordingly. Our present daily companions are also discerning of our main character weakness; nor do they always hesitate to tell us about it. Their manner of acting towards ui announces it; their joking remarks are often occasions for their pronouncing judgment on us. Nor- .must the advice of. our spiritual director be overlooked, since, if he knows and understands us, he can afford us .very superior help in our search abroad. Critics Disagree It sometimes happens that those we consult in our se,ar~ch abroad disagree in their opinions of us. A certain author gathered the criticisms of his book and found that it was good and bad, dull and entertaining, slow and swift; clumsy and graceful, strong and weak, a romance and a ser-mon, a drama and a tract. He concluded that, though 100 March, 1944 WHAT IS YOUR PREDOMINANT TENDENCY? critics always claim to be right, it was irfipossible for his book to be all these things. Shouldwe encounter the same rather exceptional experience, .we can console ourselves that nothing" of serious consequence is .lost; we have all the other means of self-knowledge still at our disposal. Ashing God rThe last and greatest help is prayer to the Holy Spirit ¯ for light. A strong conviction that we need divine help above all in this search is a powerful aid in this as in every spiritual undertaking. A short aspiration from the longer prayer of St. Augustine is quite appropriate: "Lord Jesus, may I come to know Thee, may I come to know myself." God "will gladly communic,ate, that knowledge, flooding otir souls with light as a reward of all our soul-searching. Humility, let it be n~ted again, is necessary, lest we be deaf to.every admonition, blind to every light, hardened against the love that corrects. God will be giving directions and inspirations about our predominant tendency, but without humility we shall ignore them. Confessors, retreat mas-ters, and others will be telling us ever so plainly of our besetting weakness, but we shall never heed unless, as we seek self-knowledge, we simultaneously grow~in humi~ity. Finally, salutary lessons in self-knowledge, to be gleaned from meditating on the example of Christ and the. saints, will never be learned unless the heart is hungering to know - self no matter what the~cost to that same. self. Godward Self-kn0wledge should lead us to God; otherwise it is not 0nly useless but even a great hindrance to our spiritual advancement. Well did St. Augustine pray: "Lord Jesus, may I dome to know Thee; may I come to know myself," In the foregoing explanations the demands of the subject 101 PATRICK M. REGAN made it necessary to focus attention on self-knowledge to ~he apparent exclusion of other phases of the spiritual life. This fact should .not betray us into putting too much emphasis on the need of.self-knowledge. We should also understand what true knowledge of self really is. A cita-- tidn from a former article on the subject (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1942) will make this clear. "Many are prejudiced against self-knowledge, even fear to undertake the task of acquiring it.; they misunderstand it. It is not to be .confused with morbid, introspection--that avid, uncontrolled interest in self which excludes all else and can be so harmful. No, the acquiring of self-knowledge pos-tulates not only looking inward, but also considerable looking outward to God, to our neighbor, and to our mod-els. the saints. Nor does the study of ~elf mean constant cold analysis of self, for the very reason that it can also be accomplished by noting the ~rirtues of others that impress us and reveal how much we fall short of perfect .design in our own lives. Self-analysis can be a considerable aid to self-knowledge but it does not lead to it infallibly. Some are expert at analyzing themselves, but their self-knowledge is mediocre; while'others have a deep knowledg~ of self, with very little power of self-analysis." As is evident, then, from the method suggested, the predominant tendency itself can be determined~ in a com-paratively~ short space of time, and with not too great diffi.- culty./ But the fruit of our examination we may re, ap all through life, developing for ourselves an intelligent, well-ordered, unified plan of lifeto meet our personal spiritual need and Weakness. This plan will be distinctive of our asceticism; it will assure us spedial'advantages in mounting GOdward. I02 A Suggest:ion ~rom !:he Fact:ory John E. Coogan, S.J. THE factory system, as is now. generally recognized, tended t6 dehumanize labor, making man almost a part of the machine. Little need was left him for intelligence; instead intelligence was "built into the machine." One great manufacturer .remarked, "Any one can work for me who has brains enough to hang up his hat." Even those workmen who had intelligence were often given no adequate opportunity to use it:" the .employer commonly thought of a workman as a "hand," at a time when even cattle were counted by the "head." "i~o stop this debasing of labor, Pius XI, in his encycli-ca!, "Reconstructing the Social Order," reminded employers that man is placed here on earth to develop and evolve all his faculties to the full, to the praise and glory of his Cre-ator. Hence, the Holy" Fathei: declared, "We deem it advis-able that the wage-contract shoul~d, when possible, be modified somewhat by a contract of partnership." Com-menting on these words, Father R. A. McGowan says the workman, in order to develop as ahuman being, should be given some voice in planning the general production policy of his industry, for thus "the soul of man, his will and mind, and his body can breathe more freely, and grow and develop in such work, whereas under any form of regimen-tion., his soul is .starved." If some such participation of subordinates in the planning of the operation of a business enterprise is so, necessary for their full development, it might well be asked whether we are as yet taking full. advantage of such par- 103 ,JOHN E, COOGAN Review for Religious ticipation in our rdigious communities. Among us the practice is of course used widely by a few, less widely by many. But are we even close to exhausting ~ts possibili- " ties? It is true that among us the need in general is not so extreme. Few of our religious are employed at tasks involving continuous mechanical repetition; hence their tasks usually give more opportunity for self-exp~ession and mental development than do the tasks of the ordinary industrial employe. But on the other 1-Jand our religious, because of their frequently superior abilities and education, are capable of a more notable self-exp~ession; hence they languish more if they lack the appropriate opportunities. Every man, the Pope said, is meant by God to develop alI " his faculties to the full. The whole man gives himself to God through the vows; and the whole man, with all his talents, be they one or five, should be used and brought to flower. Since those words of Plus XI urging employers to give their workmen a chance to .use their minds, many employ-ers have seen fit to give such men some share in the formu-lation of the production policies of management. The reason for this more generous policy need not have been that urged by Plus, for even from the standpoint of their own interests employers have cbme to see the wisdom of using more fully the talents of their workmen. It has occurred to them that "the average intelligence ,of the working force is higher .in the United States than in any other country, and native ingenuity, combined with intimate familiarity with processes, can not fail to produce ideas that may advantageously be adopted by the man-agement." This movement,looking to the increase of employe participation in solving the problems of industry has been developing for some years, but early in 1942 it w~is tre- 104 ¯ March, 1944 A SUGGESTION FROM THE FACTORY mendously accelerated when War Production Chief Don-ald Nelson asked that throughout the munitions industry labor-management committees be formed in the interest of increased production. He felt that the laborer's brain-power wa~ largely going, unused where, no positive and .systematic encouragementwas given him to place his sug-gestions before the management with an assurance that he ~vbuld get a respectful hearing, and for fruitful, suggestions a;suitable keward. Within fifteen months after Mr. Nel-son'sp~ 0posal at least 2,000 committees looking to such cooperative efforts Were formed. The result has been a gusher of employe ideas that has contributed heavily to the success of our war effort. In one .automobile plant alone a total of more than 116,000 ideas have been submitted, of which almost 20,000 have been accepted. "War bonds, ranging as high as $1,000 .in value, are awarded for the ideas and $660,895 has been paid out. during the 15-month period. Cash payments--currently are running better than ~ $90,000 monthly:' in that one auto plant. Many of the awards are going to young women still llttle more than novices at machine methods. One such "hand," working on a rifle barrel, promptly suggested an ingeniou~ change in boring thatbrought her a $1,000 award. Another devised a pencil-like tool for picking up small rivet washers, thu~ eliminating the tedious task of picking them up by hand and thus increasing her output. Another hit upon a clever arrangemeiat for telescoping a three-step job into one. '~ In One plant manufacturing cannon, a single machine was devised to take the place ~of ten. machihes, thus "reducing the time on a gun barrel operation from seventy-five'minutes to four.In another plant a worker's sugges-tion reduced the rifling of the barrel of an automatic cannon from three hours and twer;ty-five minutes to thirty minutes. 105 JOHN E. COOGAN Review for Religious ¯ In East Pittsburgh alone, in a single year, the' Westing-house Electric gave awards for more than 2,000 sugges-tions, the largest of these to a grandfather of sixty-two years. And thus the story goes. One device, designed in spare time from scrap mate'rials, has raised the output of certain army tank fire extin, guisher parts from 100 to 400 per eight-hour working shift. Another machine fhat bites off 400,000 rivets a day from spoo.ls of wire is .likewise the happy idea of afactory "hand." Among the first 500 sug-gestions submitted at Douglas Aircraft were enough good ideas tO producea saving of 2,000 man-hours per day. General Electric received more than 40,000: suggestions in ;i single year, 12,000 of these proving worthy of accept-ance. Such suggestions pouring in across the country.have iffsingle instancesmeant savings of hundreds of thousands of dollars, one as much as five hundred thousand dollars in a single year: and this in addition to the many lives saved through speedingup our ~winning of the war. NO wonder, then, that the War Production Board has insti-tuted a system of merit awards, corresponding,to military decorations, for employes who devise means, of increasing or improving war production; these awards" to be in addi- ¯ tion to cash prizes and medals bestowed by employers themselves. The success of this encouragement of employe sugges-tions has been such as to guarantee the continued use of the scheme by intelligent industiialists "after the war., Thor-oughly discredited is the notion that. the workman is only a "hand." One great manufacturer has .predicted .that the .next .fifty years will see "the exploring of the unlimited possibilities of human beings workilag together for a corn- .mort cause ' through mutual understanding, respect, and teamwork." 106 ~- The success of this democri, tizing of industry is but an echo of the success that analogous efforts have long since met with at times in religion. It was in the interest of free-dom for the subordinate that St. Ignatius refu~ed to attempt to prescribe in detail for meeting contingencies that could be only dimly foreseen. "Cut your coat according to the cloth," was the extent of his direction in commissioning a subordinate. Ironclad~directions canonly make for inflexible, blind driving. Wise religious supe-riors have felt themsel~res fortunate at being able to borrow from the pruden.ce and variedexperience of their communi-ties. It is proverbial that those best fitted to govern are the most willing to be governed. In consequence of their -reluctance to rise above their fellows, they minimize their difference of status as much as is compatible.with discipline. Consequently they lend a ready ear to the well-meant sug-gestions of their subjects. Admirers of a more militarized religious discipline have demurred at such deference, feeling it somehow beneath the digni~y of superiors; it is for such that our~ remarks are mbst especially intended. They resemble a friend of New-man's, who felt the latter was being talked down to by an ,intellectual inferior. But the humble author of "Lead, Kindly Light," quietly replied: "'Ar~/or~e can lecture me, and I'll be grateful for it." Thus the large-minded, kindly superior sees no loss of dignity in tt~rning an interested ear to the last and least of the community. .Such ~ superior reflects that only the Holy Father is infallible, and even he only within limits. He knows too that many of the ablest minds in the Church have spent long lives in complete subjection; fortunate the superiors who were able to profit by their wisdom. Many, too, who were once in positions of authority, return with matured minds to the ranks; how valuable may the suggestions of 107 JOHN I~. I~OOGAN" Review for Religious these.be to even the most competent superior~ governing in the, awesome .place of Christ'and only. too. aware of his limitations~ . ~ ~ . ~ ." A Writer of conferences for priests tells t.he: story--v~e hope it is only :that,--of a pastorwho expressed his opinion of his. assistant and house-keeper in the. words, ~'I'm the only One around here-who has brains enough to commit a mortal sin.': That frame of mind will seem inconceivable to the true superior. It~means, for one thing, drawing the blinds against the light; it means poisoning the wells. ¯ In matters coficerned with the salvation and perfection Of immortal souls, there can never be too much light; the .wills dannot flow too clear and pure. If, as has been beau-tifully. said, "One soul' is 'enough for a diocese,"' then the gove.rnment of a religious community can use all the light and wisdom.that might be found in an entire ecumenical council. But readiness to listen to and encourage the suggestions of subjects insures much more than increased .light .in gov-ernment; it makes for more docile, loyal, cdntented, sub-jects: Knowing that their views have been treated with. respect, subjects obey. more promptly-and interiorly. Treated like adults, like adults they now obey. The per-s~ n of the superior is loved and deferred to; and, as St. Ig-natius reminds us, "It is easy to' obey where we-love'that which is.commanded." Gracious superiors thus make for gracious subjects; these subjects in turn are gracious to.their own cbarggs. The example.is fertile and its fruits increase. Another very worth-while result of such respect shown bysuperiors for the judgment of their subjects has been the latter's increased s,elf,respect. An eminent, holy English priest exclaimed some years ago, "Oh, the timidity of the virtuous.". Sometimes.one may wonder whether we do not inculcate in young religious diffidence in:place of humil- 108 March, 1944 A SUGGESTION FROM.THE FACTORY ity.Diffidenceisparalyzing, humility is clarifying. Diffi-dence salts, ~"I can-.do nothing"; humility says, ~"I can:diS all things in Him Who strengthens me.'.'. Sometimes young ¯ people .come to. religion who have. had. responsible pos.i~ tions in the world, and .yet by Vow-time they have hardly enough self-confidence left to pay.their wayon a street-tar. At an age when their companions in the world are managing, large .businesses, these religious tremble at making, the. simplest public appearance or at meeting a, stranger. ¯ Timidity is' not. an apostolic virtue; self-respect emphatically is. Self-respect is prope.r surely to an "Alter Cbristus" or to a "Sponsa Christi," and the deference of _ superiors to. subjects; even to the youngest, by which .that self~respect is built tip must be pleasing to.Christ. It is not enough, as the wise superior knows, that this deference .be shown only to a few.The last and least are most exposed to crippling diffidence and self-contempt~ and they espe.- cially should be encouraged. Even those inclined to be.less-than- loyal~ can be won through this deference; this of course is an essential part of the Boys Town method of Father Flanagan. It is a truism to say tha~ the superiors of tomorrow are the subjects of today. They are now presumably being trained for their high destiny. In.a democratic Order sub-jects can hardly be ~predestined for superiorships and .be given formal and specific training as such. A future Latin teacher may be prepared by courses in Latin, and so of the other branches of instruction. Obviously, future Superiors cannot be set apart and trained in this manner; something of the present system, of relying on Providence for their development must always remain true. But wise"supe~. riots will continue to lend Providence a hand by keeping close to their future successors, letting them see and feel andmwith due proportion--participate in government-in- 109 JOHN -action. ¯ The modern pedagogy is, "Learn.by doing"; and even in the matter of superiorship there is no other way. The experienced superiorfeels, as did the Baptist, "You ¯ must increase; I must decrease," in order that, when another generation must take the helm, it will, be prepared. A final advantage found resulting from the superior's respect for the judgment of the ~ubjects is.a great love of ¯ their vocation: "All good thin, gs have come to me together ¯ with her." Religious are enthusiastic inspirers of new .-recruits when they find supreme contentment in their, reli-gious home. On the.other hand, the attitude of the dis~ satisfied religious to prospective enlistments is, "Enter at your peril." And how could they promise a newcomer the joy they themselves have not found? How important, . then, is this encouragement of joy-in-vocation, as a means of gaining the vocations needed now especially in view of . their recent sharp decline. If religious subjects are encouraged to.a greater initia-' rive, they will quite naturally manifest a greater enthusiasm for the common cause. And here, perhaps, lies a danger. Enthusiasm tends to become insistent. Hence it might be well to remark inclosing that, even with the humblest superior, subjects must always be deferential. After all, it is the superior Who holds the place of God. And while suggestions from a subject may well be in order, not so his insistent demand. Nothing would so discredit a sug-gestion as its giver's failure in religious spirit; for "the wisdom of this world is folly before God." Intelligence is not enough; Satan has that in abundance. But the wise superior will know how to moderate the naturally impe,tu-ous without at the same time discouraging the timid; he will not "quench the smo.king flax." 110 Decisions orr Ho}y January II, 1~44: The Sacred Congregation of Rites, in the pres-ence of Pope Pius XII, approved the decree tuto in the cause for the canonization of Blessed Frances Xavier. Cabrini, foundress of the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart. hll the prerequisites to h~r formal canonization are now completed. B~sides the cause of Blessed Mother Cabrini mentioned above, there are four other causes completed for canonization. They are those of Blessed Louis-Marie Grignon de Montfort, founder of the Daughters of Wisdom and of the Company of Mary, who died in ¯ 1716; Blessed Joan-Elizabeth ,Bichier des Ages, cofounder of the Daughters of the Cross, who died in 1838; Blessed Bernardino Rea-lini, Jesuit orator who died in 1616; and,~ Blessed John Peter de Britto, Jesuit missionary ~vho was martyred in India. in 169,3. Five causes .for beatification have also been compl~ted: those of Ven. Contardo. Ferrini, professor of RomanLaw in various Italian universities, who died in .1903; Ven. Mother Joanna Delanoue, foundress of the Sisters 6f St. Anne of Providence, who died in' 1.736~; Ven. Mother Gioachima de Vedruna de Mas, foundress Of ~he Carmel-ites of Charity,. who died in 1854; Ven, Vicenta Maria Lopez Vicuna, fouhdress of the Spanish Institute. of the Daughters of Mary !mm]lculate, who died in 1'890: and Ven. Alice LeClerc, foundress of the Institute of Our Lady,. who died in 1622. August 18, 1943: The Sacred Penitentiary published a decree an-nouncing that Pope Plus XII granted the following indulgences for saying the prayer, "Lord, save us: we perish": (I) A partial indulgence of 500 days to all who say, the prayer 'with contrite heart. (2) A plenary indulgence, under, the Usual conditions, to all who say the aspiration daily for a full month. .° SOME year's ago, before the Legion of Decency made its influence felt, it was said that the rule in Hollyw.ood was, "The 'badder,' the better!"--that is, the-worse the moral tefidency Of. a. cinema, the more Profitable it was. Whether that statement was true or not, the expression lends itselfto another more wholesome interpretatio~i. In.many cases it is.very dear ~hat.,the worse a thing0is in one respect, the better it is in others. Thus, the harder the examination, the:greater' the satisfaction of the student .-after be'has passed, it. Thelonge~ the workingman's toil, the.higher his pay, especially if it be at the rate of time and a half. The more serious the peri!.that a soldier or sailor .faces successfully, the more honorable the medal or cross . "that he will receive. What is true in life generally is true. particularly in the moral and spirituallife. ¯ The greater a man's trials, the holier and happier he can become. Two classes of people especially could profit by filling their souls with the conviction and persuasion that the :: "badd'er".a thing is from.certain points of.view, thebetter :.,it is from others. Evidently it would be a Source of solace. .and strength to all who are suffering to Se~ that the v~iSrse ¯ "! their plight may seem, to b.e., the'.better 'it :really is,. when considered from the divihe point o.f ,view and in the light of eternity. Again, there are always some strong and vigorous persons who are looking for the shortest and straightest, though it be also the steepest and hardest, path up the mountain of sanctity. Both those who are over- .112 "THE 'BADDER,' THE BETTER" taken with misfortune and those who are.seeking thebest short cut to high holiness should find it advantageous to consider the truths implied in the words "the 'badder,' the better!" And any sensible person who finds that he has to put up with something that is not to his tastemay well be pleased to discover a means of making the best of a bad situation. Pain in the Christian Economy In God's original and preferred plan for man there was no place for pain. Everything was to be p!easant. But since Adam and Eve and all sinners after them have wrongly and perversely sought pleasure, though in itself it is no evil, it is central in the.whole order of providence sub- - sequent to the fall that there should be pain and suffering, and that the happiness of man should be looked for and achieved very largely through them. Man's guilt in tasting forbiddefl pleasure and the unbalanced tendency of his-nature toward pleasiare were to be remedied through pain. Disorder, once introduced into human life, naturally works itself out in difficulty and distress, if not disaster. But it is the merciful and marvelous plan of God that we should convert the consequences of disorder into means to a higher order, the effects of stupidity into helps to a more excellent wisdom, the results of malice into aids to a nobler goodness and sanctitiy. 0 felix culpa! Hence in the entire scheme of the Incarnation and redemption suffering gets a more prominent ~mphasis. It is a leading characteristic of Christ Himself, of His sorrowful Mother, of the Apostles, of all who have done much for the Church, of all who h~ve reached an outstanding degree of sanctity, and in fact of the whole Mystical Body of Christ. In view of the function and purpose of suffering in the whole of the present Chris-tian economy, it is not surprising that, certain necessary 113 (3. AUGUSTINE ELLARD' ¯ conditions being presupposed, the greater the pain, the greater the supernatural results that may be expected. However, pain of itself is not a good, but an evil (physical) ; not a value, but the very opposite, Hospitals, concentration camps, and the world in general are full of people in torment, and unfortunately many of them'do not become better by reason of their suffering; rather, they deteriorate. But pain, borne well, put to morally good ends, can and does occasion an immense amount of good. .The.infinitely wise and loving prbvidence of God sends or permits all.the evils that afflict us for definite good pur-poses, and indeed proportionate good purposes. His ¯ immediate aims are often obscure andindiscernible, but His ultimate and supreme ends we know very well, and the time wil! come when His whole plan will be clearly revealed ¯ to us. Whether or not we see His proximate intentions, we can realize them by prudently, applying His precepts and counsels to the facts of our situation. The wise and good man considers the evils that befall him as parts of the grand divine plan for the universe, reacts as God wishes that he should,.and thus wills and achieves the divine purposes, in this way he pleases God and satisfies himself, and 'also, since our destinies are all bound together, he helps others toward less discomfort and more comfort. Limitations The dictum "The 'bad&r,' the better!" is proposed as true generally, not absolutely and without limitations. If, for example, a man is losing his faculties and sinking into .the moral impotency .of dementia, coma, or death, then it would not be true in the sense in which it is taken here. Sufferirig--and how much there is of it!-~--that is the con-sequence of. one's own folly or fault is not of much use .until at least the error be corrected and good will re-estab- "114 March, 1944. "THE 'BADDER,' THE BETTER" lished. But then al! that is affirmed of the value of suffer-ing is verified. Difficulty may diminish, as well as increase," the moral worth of a good action; it may even completely prevent it from coming into being. Henceit is not corn: mended for its own sake: But if, other factors remaining equal, difficulty calls forth greater goodwill, then it will have the advantages that we are about to indicate. Nothing in these considerations would justify one in imprudently or presumptuously or morbidly seeking to make more trouble for oneself. suffering is like that Pain is an evil, and The rational, attitude to take toward of God Himself in His providence. therefore, except in view of propor-tionate good; to be avoided whenever possible. But,~ in the present state of things, it is also a necessary evil, and, what is more to the point for us, an evil from which intel-ligence and goodwill and effort can extract good. Hence the prudent man will take the ills of life, and, when inspired by the Holy. Ghost, even voluntarily inflict others upon himself--such as, for instance, fasting--in the spirit in which God Himself chastens and corrects His children and puts them upon their mettle. " These limitations being undeistood, we may consider in a simple and practical manner some of the salutary~ truths implied in the prindiple "The 'badder,' the better!" General Values ' In general, therefore; the greater the difficulty or dis-tress or dishonor, the greater.one's opportunity, by reacting ¯ appropriately, to exercise and perfect one's love for the Infinite Goodness of the Blessed -Trinity, to increase the divine glory, to. compensate for past deficiencies; to aug-ment one's own eternal beatitude, and to assist souls in the way of salvation and sanctification. In this sense, the worse a thing is in time, the betterit may be in its results in eter- 1:5 G~ AUGUSTINE ELLARD Review ~:or Religious .,nity. The more Unpleasant it is, humanly sigeaking, the more valuable it may be according to the divine standards of judgment. The Worse it is physically, the better it m'ay be morally and spiritually. The ~harper the pain, the greater the hope of enjoying keener pleasure in the future. The more narrowly pinching one's poverty, the greater the likelihood of amassing better and enduring riches in the h~reafter. The more heartbreaking the mental anguish, thet more exquisite the joys bf the reward that may b~ expected for bearing it well. The deeper a humiliation well borne, the more highly exalted the honor a man can look forward to before God and eventually before the wh~le human race. The harder the .temptation to struggle against, the more glorious the crown of justice that awaits the vic-tor. As creatures become less and less satisfactory, it Is easier to find satisfaction in the CreatOr. In prop6rtion as lovely persons or things of the world allure and beguile us less, the more apt we are to retain the right pe~spectixre and sense of proportion with r~ference to ~reatures and the Cre-ator. To sum up, the worse the evil that afflicts a person, 6f whatsoever nature it may be, thegreater and better the ~pfirposes of God in allowing it, for H~mself, for the suf-ferer, and for others. It is precisely toward the accomplish-ment of these aims, neither more nor less, that these reflec-tions are directed. Means to this Attitude. There are two great means Of truly making the ¯ ".badder" thing turn out to be the better thing. The first is to develop a deep, calm, whole-s0uled, pratical, conviction of these two facts: first, that God in His superior wisdom, benevolence, and power really is directing everything that touches us, including the sins and injustices of others toward us, to our own true and best good; and, secondly, 116 March, 1944 "THE 'BADDER,' THE BETTER" that the best possible thing that we can do for ourselves is to show our good sense and good w{11 by fully co-oper-ating with the operations of divine providence. When God's immediate aims are obscure, then ggeate~r faith and confidence are in order. God could of course give us better opportunities, but wd can never do better for ourselves than to make the most of the opportunties that He does give us. The Other great means is earnestly to cultivate, by serious reflection.and prayer, a true and just appreciation or evaluation of the excellence of the persons whose interests are concerned, and of the magnitude and multiplicity of those interests, in time and in eternity. Among the values suggested by the rule "The 'badder,' the better," the following may be noted. Special Values in the Present Difficulty or dist'ress is a present challerige to one's intelligence and goodwill. It is there to be overcome and vanquished: at least that is the magnanimous attitude toward it. ¯ It tends to provoke and evoke all that is best in a man, to put it to the test, to improve ~nd perfect it. The humble soul will not be presumptuous and overconfident in its own strength, but neither should it be diffident with regard to God. " 'For strength is made perfect in infir-mity.' Most gladly, then, will I rather boast of mine infir-mities, that so there may rest upon me the si:rength of Christ. Wherefore I am well content in infirmities, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in straitsnfor Christ's sake. For when I am Weak, then I am strong!" (II Corinthians 12:9, "10).1 It has always been considered one of the most remark-able manifestations of God's excellence" that He is wise and good and strong enough to.draw good out of every evil that aNew Testament texts in this article are cited from the Westminster Version. 117 AUGUSTINE ELI]ARD Reoieto ~o~ Religious occurs in His universe, and no doubt the w0~se the evil,:the greater the good must be. "We know that for them~that love God.He worketh all things together unto good,~ for them that are called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28). It is understood that those who love God are intel-ligent and virtuous enough to co-operate with Him. The Christian life was long ago defined as an imitation of God; and to be able to extract good out of evil, and greater goods out of greater evils, would be a mark of an excellent Chris-tian life. In increasing one's efforts to meet the challenge, one's own wisdom and goodness and power are perfected and made more and more like God's. Thus difficulty over-come or pain well borne gives one something of 'which to be supremely proud. "We. exult in the hope of the glory of God. And not only so, but we exult.in our tribulations also, knowing ,that tribulation worketh endurance, and endurance experience, and experience hope: And hope doth not prove.false" (Romans 5:2-5). An aviator: who is trying to run up a high record of victories against enemy planes would seek out, rather than shun, dangerous encounters; so. the good man who would like to distinguish himself in the service of the Divine King would look upon-any hardship or surfeiting as so much opportunity to win glory for his Sdvereign and for him-self. The very best physici)ins and surgeons prefer the more difficult, the "more interesting," cases, because thus they have a chance to use and to improve their superior ~kill. They feelthe challenge and are glad to accept it. Many good people have moments when they regret that they do not, have more occasion to showthe magnanimity and heroism that are in them. To be consistent, they ought to acknowledge practically, when the time comes to put up with the unpleasant, that the worse it is, the greater the opportunity for which they have been looking. Since the 1'18 Marc& 1944 "THE 'BADDER,' THE BETTER" time of Aristotle, the difficult has been-considered to be in a peculiar way the province of art and virtue. St. Paul knew and welcomed the.challenge we speak of: "But as for me, Heaven forbid that I should make boast of aught save the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, whereby the world is crucified to me, and I to the world" (Galatians 6:14). With. Respect to Past Our principle contains most 'valuable lessons with respect to the past. Perhaps nothing discourages people more in their moral and spiritu.al lives than a past record which brings shame rather than pride. Even here these people have their chance. The worse they have been, the greater their need to make up for what they havelost, and hence the more welcome the opportunity to. effect that compensation. When one.has sinned, the sensible attitude to take Would seem to be: "Willy hilly, now I must suffer for it! The sooner it is Over, the more patient I am, the better!" The deeper one is in the red in his accounts with God, the more solicitous one should be about getting into the black again. A person who attacks his past in the spirit of "the 'badder,' the better!" Would have the optimism, ~lan, and force that go with taking the offensive. A little punishmer~t here may save one from much torment in, pur-gatory, and besides it has a positive value (merit), whereas that after death does not. The souls already undergoing the penalties of ptirgatory must have an overwhelming conviction that they would have done well to bethink themselves seriously and see the advantages of their disad-vantages, the comforts of theirdiscomforts~ ~nd the abili-ties of their disabilities. When a man sins or even omits the better alternative in a choice between two goods, God's antecedent plan for His own glory is to that extent frustrated. God would like 119 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD Review for Reliqious ~o see the loss made good, unless, 6f course,, it betoo late. In sending or permitting difficulty or tribulation, He intendsand hopes that it Will be used for that end: Thus again, the worse one's affliction, the better the chance it gives to satisfy God for past failures. ,Many devout people nowadays talk much about making reparation fo~ t.he injuries and insults that have been heaped upon the patient and-!ong-suffering FIe~art of 3esus. D0 they realize always that the better their patience in. all that is disagreeab!e, the fuller the measure in which they make that reparation? Other fervent, souls: would imitate St~ Paul and would make up in their "flesh :what is lacking to the sufferings of Christ, on behalf of his.b6dy, which fs the Church'~ (Colossians 1:24). The more and better they suffer, the less they will leave lacking to that Mystical Bgdy. For ~he Future ." But it is with reference to future values that :the rule :"'T.he 'bad&r,' the better!" is best verified. ,The most obvious advantage here is the merit of suffering well. The tiniest and most minuscule bit of discomfort, or dishonor borne meritoriously means an increase of grace: of.sancti-fying~ grace,".that, is, of higher participation in the nature and life of. the.Divinity; of the infused virtues and the,gifts ¯ of the Holy Spirit, that.is, of proximate principles of dei- ¯ form thought, volition, .and activity; of actual graces, that is;.o.f-salutary ideas,., impulses, and aids helping one to live .On:a~ higher plane of the rational and the diyine life; and finally; of a richer share in the . ineffable, beatitude of the most blessed Trinity in. heaveia .throughout the unending aeons of eternity. One's ability to behold: and contemplate .the,Infinite Truth, to love.th4 Infinite Goodness, to enjo.y ¯ .the.Infinite. Beauty, and to.rejoice in the company of: the Divine Persons and : of: .the .whole . celestial society, is pro- .t!20 March, l 9 4 4 ¯ " "THE 'BADDER,' THE BETTER'.' portionately augmented. God is glorified more," the quondam sufferer himself thrills with a more exquisite sense of the divine beatitude, and everybody else in that. blissful region is better pleased and more happy. And Goal repays sincere human effort£, not according to results, but according to a generous~cost-plus system. Meanwhile his own moral stature will be rising at an accelerated speed. Faith will be clarified,, hope fortified., ahdcharity intensified; prudence will become more sharply discerning, religion more devout, humility deeper, fortitude stronger, patience more enduring, and magnanimity greater. Really and consistently to face suffering with ,the disposi-tion "the worse, the better!" is no child's play, and if it be kept up in severe trials and over a protracted period' 6f time, the man who does it shows himself to be something of a hero. If personal sanctity is raised to higher,levels, then, other things being equal, one's efficiency and ability to.d0 God's work and to save souls will be increased also. General resolutions and offerings of self to God cast in some such form as this: "All that Thou Willest, O. God, and the harder, the better!" should prove to be more ¯ effectual. If in the crisis of temptation a person can exclaim ,"The harder, the better!" or, "The worse I have been, the better I am determined to be!" his chances Of coming of( ~he victor will be enhanced. . A JoyousAttitude Taking this view of the unpleasant makes it less unpleasant and more bearable. Evidently this attitude ig less pessimistic and more cheerful. Moreover, such a posi-tive and aggressive reaction,, besides conferring the advan-tages .of offensive strategy over the merely defensive, lessens pain, partly because of the consciousness" of .doing the nobler thing, and partly because a man suffers less when 121' G. AOGUSTINE ELLARD Review ~'or Rdigiotts ¯ he is active and not simply passive. Every football player and every soldier knows that while he" is in actual combat . minor hurts are not felt so keenly. The saying of the old Roman poet that it is sweet as.well as honorable to die for the fatherland, has received universal approbation. For a much stronger reason it ought to be sweet and consoling to suffer for God's sake, or for souls' ~sake, and that swee(ness should bear a proportion both to the loveliness of the Great Beloved and to the amount of evil endured. Everybody who has been in love knows well from experience that there is a certain satisfaction in demonstrating love by sacrifice. As a matter of fact, it can only be suggested, not at all adequately expressed, that in suffering in union witch ,Jesus crucified holy men and women have been thrilled with the most exquisite and indescribable delights. Not that they ceased to feel their agony; but with it, or after it, and by reason of it, they also felt the most rapturous and ecstatic joys. "For according as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so through Christ doth our comfort also abound" (II Corinthians 1:5); they who "for a while. h~i.ve beeia grieved somewhat by divers teHptations . . .~ exult with an unspeakable and glorified joy" (I Peter 1: 6-9). ¯ Moreover, heavier crosses have always been consid-ered a sign of divine predilection. To acquire the heroic attitude.toward suffering,.cert~iin. ardent souls will find themselves helped most by .such reflections as the following. Who is desus who suffered for me.? .What His dignity, goodness, lovableness? How worthy of being pleased even if He had never felt incon-venience because of me? How much didHe suffer for my sake? With what love, mercy, patience, and l'ong-suffering? Why did He suffer? What does He desire of me? With what right? How much-pleased would He be ifI.~hould suffer with Him? To.what extent could I.thus 122 March, 1944 "THE 'BADDER,' THE BETTER" help Him "accomplish His aims in enduring so much pain and humiliation and. such a death?' How much could I aid His Church and His cause with souls? .Would it gratify Christ to see me pr.efer.ring poverty, pain, and opprobrium, not of course for their own sake--that would be perverse-- but for His sake and to further His designs? Pertinent Prayers John of the Crossl-who taught, and in his own person illustrated the fact, that one who is destinedfor a very high degree of divine union, "of total transformation into God,:' must first undergo very severe and thoroughgoing purifications, was v~.ont to pray: "O God, to suffer and to be despised forThee!.". Before Teresa of Avila reached the summit of her myst.ical ascensions, she, Whose latter years ~vere one great battle with difficulty and distress of every sort, would exclaim: "O Lord, either to suffer or to die!" The Italian Carmelite, Mary Magdalen de' Pazzi, outdid her: "O Lord let me suffer or let me die---or rather--let me live on that I may suffer mote!" But before the end Of Teresa's life, .when a furious st6rm of troubles was begin-ning to break over her head, she wrote to a less stouthearted confidant and collaborator:. "Let use make the :attempt, ¯ . . for the more we suffer, the better it Will be" (Walsh, Saint TereSa o[ Avila, 567). It would seem that anybody with faith and reason could pray: "O God, enable me through Thy grace to see ~11 that befalls mein the light.and setting of Tby wise and benevolent and pcwerfu[ providence, to realize practically that Thou makest all things, good and bad, to work together for the best interests of those who love Thee and react rightly, and. thus really and truly to achieve Tl~y beneficent, purposes; all this, out of love for the infinite, .eternal, and ineffable goodness of Thy most blessed Trin- 123 G.' AUGUSTINE ELLARD ity; out of zeal to co-operate with Thee in communicating that same goodness and Thy knowledge and Thy love of it; out-of eagerness to participate in the redemptive sufferings and work of. the God-man crucified; out of fear lest, being too. shortsighted and cowardly, I incur more grievous woes; and finally from a longing to share, and to bring others to share, in Thy own inexpressible and everlasting beatitude." All things considered, whatever is to be said of the theory of evil, the best practical philosophy of evil seems tO be found in the alliterative and ungrammatical oxy-moron: "The 'badder,' the better!" It provides a rational ¯ and Christian means of transforming negative, into posi-tive values, disorder into order, discomfort into comfort, and dishonor into honor. BOOKLET NOTICES Sp;rifual ChecI(-up for Religious, by Rev. Lawrence G. Lovasik, S.V.D. A good booklet t:or occasional examination of conscience and for monthly" recollection. 32 pages. Single copies, 10 cents: 9 cents each in lots of 25; 8 c~nts each in lots of' 100. Published by: The Catechetlcal Gdild, St. Paul, Minnesota. Heart of Jesus. Our Consolatlon---Special devotions to the Sacred Heart of Jesus for the Sick and Afflicted. written and compiled bs' Clara M. Tiry. Contains a veritable treasury of devotions in honor of the Sacred Heart. 72 pages. Single copies, 15 cents: 4 copies for 50 cents: 8 copies for $1.00; cloth bound copies, "50 cents each. Published by: The Apostolate of Suffering, 1551 North 34th ~t., Milwaukee 8, Wisconsin. Good Samaritan Almanacman almanac forthe sick. 64 pages Single copies, 25 cents; 5 copies for $1.00. Published by: The Apostolate of Suffering. What Tho Mass Means, an explanatio~ of the prayers and ceremonies of the Mass, .by the Rev. Victor J. Hintgen. For study clubs. 92 pages. Single copies, 30 cents: redhction in pri~e for 6 or. more. Published by: Our Sunday Visitor Press, Hunt-ington, Indiana. Listens-It's God's Word, an introduction to the New Testament, by the Rev. '"Victor 3. Hintgen: For study clubs. 144 pages. Single cop!es, 30 cents; re~tuc-tion in price for 6 or.more. Published by~ Our Sunday Visitor Press. Modern Youth and Chastity, by Gerald Kelly, S.J. in collaboration with B, R. Fulkerson, S.3., and C. F. Whitford, $,J. Formerly published for restricted cir-i: ulation under the.title Chastity and Catholic Youth. 105 pages. Single copies, 25 cents; 12 copies, $2.70; 25 copies, $5.00;. 50 copies, $8.75: 100 copies, $17.50. Published by: The Queen's Work, 3742 West Pine Blvd. St. Louis 8, Missouri. 124 Concerning Voca!:ions The Editors ~a~JlTH this number of the REVIEW we. close our correspondence W on Vocations. Since we asked for communications on this subject (July, 1943) we have received a number of letters, suggestions~ leaflets, programs; and so forth. We give .he.re a brief account of the material sent us that has not yet been mentioned in the REVIEW. Booklet : Follbw Him, by Godfrey Poage, C.P., is a vocational booklet on the Sisterhoods. It is the companion .booklet to the boys' Follow Me (see REVIEWFOR RELIGIOUS; II, p. 385). It is an dxcellent piece 6f workmin explanation, pictures, and in its universal appeal.J~ll possible .communities are listed and briefly described. No favoritism is shown. This-. booklet is distributed.exclusively by the Thomas .More Book Shop, 22 West Moriroe St., Chicago 3, Illinois. Prices: single copies, .postpaid, 15 cents; 2 or more copies, 10 cents each; per hundred, $8.00. Programs. Father Poage sent us the Program for the Promotion of Voca-tions for use in the Archdiocese of Chicago during Vocation month. The essential points in the program.are of value, not merely during Vocation month, but all through the year. . . To deepen the spiritual life of the students ik the first objectiv~ of the Chicago program. This is to be done by prayer, more frequent Mass and Communion, and the cultivation of a spirit of sacrifice and ~enerosity. The program points out that we should ~train our youth more in the use of ejaculatory prayer, as there is a common misunder-standing that by "prayer" we mean long prayers such as the Rosary or the Stations. With regard to frequent Mass and Communion the suggestion is made that all too often boys and girls have the.f_alse notion that they must go to confession every time they, go to Com-munion; hence we should impress them with th~ truth that ,confes-sion is "necessary only after mortal sin. Thi,s, of course, does-not mean that we are not to teach our students ihe manifold advantages 125 THE EDITORS Review for Religious. of fre~quent c0nfessio~. It seems to us that the last point in the program--the cultivation of a spirit of generosity and sacrifice-- cannot bestressed too much. Today, in particular, all vocations-- not merely religious--require such a spirit; and only too often fail-ures in marriage, as well as in religion and the priesthood, must be attr~ibuted to sheer selfishness. To impart adequate instruction is the second.objective of ~he Chicago program. This. is to be done by allowing questions, by suggesting reading (especially of Follow Him and Follow Me), and by simple talks on such subjects as: The Signs of a Vocation; How to Overcome Ditticult.ies; The Apostolate' that Lies Open; and The Need of Generosity in Following the Promptings of Grace. The. Mission Helpers of the" Sacred Heart (West Joppa Road, Towson, Maryland). sent in this sample program for a Dag of Retreat made by the Our Lady of Good Counsel Club: i0:30: Assembly in Chapel, H~'mn, Prayer. ' 10:45: Is It for Me?--conference by a Sister. I 1 : 15 : Interviews, Visits to Chapel, Stations. 12:00: Lunch. 1:00: Rosary (on the grounds). 1:30: What Would It Mean?-:-cbnference by a Sister. 2:00: Interviews, Visits to Chapel, Stations. 3:30: Address--by a priest. ¯ 4: 15: Benediction. The re£reatants were urged to keep strict silence. Bdoks and pamphlets about various religious communities were placed at their 'disp6sal. An~l they were asked to make known iheir requests for any specifil literature beforethe opening of the retreat. Leaflets l~ather Thomas Bowdern, S.J., (The Creighton University, Omaha 2, Nebraska), once made a. nation-wide survey of those who followed vocations to the priesthood and the religious life during the y6ars i919-1929. He :has written several articles about his survey. and be now prints a 4opage leaflet giving some of the principal findings and a definite program for fo~teriiag vocations~ The leaflet is entitled A Study of Vocations. It may be obtained from Father Bowdern--~2 copies for 5 cents. Marcl~f 1944 . CONCERNING VOCATIONS The Sisters of the Good Shepherd i931 Blair Avenue, St. Paul 4, Minr~esota) sent us a very attractive leaflet, also a postcard folder containing 22 pictures, used to inform lik.ely candidates of the tre-mendous apostolate carried on by the Sisters. Communications Reverend Fathers : For many years while.traveling about the country as a missioner I have been absorbed in the problem of the dearth of vocations. Here are a few brief observations that may throw some additional light on the subject. ~ There is no foundation for the complaint that our Catholic . youth lack the spirit of sacrifice. The communities that have been overwhelmed with vocations are those which offer the greatest hard-ships. The newer communities attract in proportion many more voca-tions than the older established communities. Some of the former had more subjects than missions, while many of the latter had to refuse new missions for lack of subjects¯ Some may attribute this to-, their American foundation, while too many of the older communb ties were of "foreign" origin. Another factor that is Overlooked is pu'blicity.° Many of~- the older communities are forbidden by rule to u~e persuasion in seeking subjects. This has.been interpreted rigorously as forbidding adver-tising of any kind. .If the community in question is not established in the large Catholic centers, it can hardly expect to attract vocations' there. One cannot join a community unless one first knows of its existence. It is unreasonable to expect God to work. miracles to com-pensa. t.e for our neglect o~ human means readil~ ;ivailable. )~ simple attractive pampble't stating the origin arid purpose of the.community would merely make God's work known. More popular pamph!ets on the saints of the Order would also attract vocations. The new communities advertise. Too many of the older-communities are still unknown. Virtue will attract,.vocations. Let.me qu'ote from a letter of a young novice: "My thoughts and .~tesires were of One Whom I wished to serve, so naturally I observed those who were already serving Him, and seeing the goodness and happiness they seemed to display I was quite convinced . . . that the convent was my life'~ home.'~ On the other hand I could quote examples of otfiers who ¯ 127 THEI EDITORS Review for Religious had practically made up their minds to join ii certain community but were absolutely repelled from doing so because of the obvious lack of ~ustice and charity in someone wearing the garb bf that order. Care in selecting subjects means more vocations eventually. Abil-ity to judge character on ~the part of the Novice Master or Novice Mistress will help to exclude those who do not belong. Weakness in admitting one poor subject may mean the subsequent loss of ten worthy vocations. A Priest Reverend Fathers: PerhaPs my experience is no( a common one, but I have found that one thing that sometimes creates'dissatisfacti0n with a reiigious Vocation is the fact that many of us older religious refuse to allow our former pupils to "grow up." Even after these former 'pupils have beeri in religion for several years, we continue to look upon them and treat them as our "boys .and girls." Many of them feel this intensely. E~ienwhen they do not actually give up their vocations, the sense of frustration hampers their work and their natural, growth to a whole-some independence. As a means to p~eserving voc~itions, and to the full fructifying of vocat,ions, I suggest that we "old teachers" examine 0ur~elves periodically on our "maternal" and "paternal" attitudes. A Priest WANTED: LETTERS ON RETREATS! Whim you make a retreat, are there some things that you find particularll, h~lpful--things that yo~. expect and that you'd like the retreat director to be sure to give? And when you give [1 retreat, do you look for a certain disposition on the ~art of the retreatants, yearn for a response that som~,times does not come? :- If you have good ideas, why not air them in our Communications? We w~nt to start some communications on this very practical subject in our next number ¯ (May 15). If you have Somethingtb say and~you want to say it in that num~ber, send it to us immediately. Keep the following points in mind: (1) Make communications as brief, ai possible--withdut, 6f course, sa~rific- ~ing thought for brevity. . (2) Save us editorial wor~ by writing neatly and clearly. Typewritten letters are:~preferred. .(3) Your name will not be printed unless you. explicitly request this." (4) Address communications to: The Editors of P~eview for Religious. St. Mary's'College, St. Marys, Kansas. 'i28 Try This in Your Examen! Richard L. Rooney, S.~. THE Archangel of Religious sat at his celestia! equivalent of a desk in the Mansion of the Guardians and ruefully read the recent reports. For the most part the vows were intact and the spirit of'work was tremendous. But by and large, the particular examens just weren't being kept! His friend~. Ignatius of Loyola, who dropped in now and then for a chat, wouldn't like that, for he had put great. stress on the examen as a means of sanctification. And even the mod-ern psychologists (some of whom had arrived in heaven!) considered it a good device for. self, improvement. But these modern religious-- priests, Brothers, and Sistersmseemed to think quite" differently, if .one might judge from results. The Archangel leaned back and pondered the situation. Perhaps these poor human ¯beings found the thing tedious, had let routine creep in and rob them of zest. Perhaps they had asked the same'old-questions in the same old way and, seeing no advancement, had given up in disgust. Or perhaps they had forgotten th_attheir firs~t job is to be g.o'od human beings; hence they had been pitching their examen= too high ! The Archangel scribbled a set of questions on a piece of skyey paper. He would have the Angel Guardians suggest these to their charges, and then see if the examens wouldfi't improve.~ Here is what he wrote: -1) Do you get along with practically everyone in the com-munity? " 2)~ If not; is it because you practise one or more of the following easy ways of getting yourself disiiked: a) Do you'do your best to let the "other fellow" know he doesn't amount to much?¯ make it clear that his ideas are. awrY, that¯he expr.esses them poorly? that what he does is°really not im-portant? b) ~ Do you try to arrange other people's lives, for them? . c) Have you let your disposition become morose, mood_y, touchy, and sarcastic? " d) Do you find fault on every possible occasion with the R~¢HARD.L. ROONY , food, the weather, the work, superiors, the whole life--always, of course, for the glory of God? e) Do you pick.out and air" abroad tO certain chosen souls the small defects of others? f) Do you pass over no chance to argue--to turn-every recreation into a debate? g) D6 you gossip? (Absolutely the best way in the world of wasting time--God's time--~as well-as showing your own inferiority.) b) Are ygu suspicious, sure that no one is up to any good or has a good motive? i) Are you always center-stage, in the spot-light, talking about that most interesting of topics, yourself? j) Or are you just the opposite--a silent, uninterested bore at recreation? k) Do you always take orders in bad grace--make things as hard for superiors as you can? 1) Are you one of those omniscient people whom no one can tell anything? WHO IS SAINT JOSEPH? Saint Joseph is: ¯ . ¯ the guardian of chastity and of the honor of virginity,---St. Augustine ¯ . .~ the faithful coadjutor of the Incarnation.---St. Bernard . . the perfect example of humility and obedience to God's inspirations. -~t. Francis Borgia . . the man mbre beloved by Jesus and Mary than ail other creatures.---St, lsidore . . the master of prayer and the interior life.-~St. Teresa ¯ . . the model of priests and superiors.---St. Albertus Magnus ¯ . ¯ the mysterious veil which covered the virginity'of Mary.mBossuet ¯ . . the third person of the earthly trinity.--Gerson The foregoing are but a few of the brief panegyrics of St. ,loseph that can be culled from such books as Cardinal Vaughan's Who is St. Joseph? and Pete Binet's Divine Favors granted to St. Joseph. They might be apt subjects for brief medi-tations, during the month of March. w'qC'ILLIAM STRITCH, ¯130 ook Reviews AIDS TO'WILL TRAINING IN C~HRISTIAN EDUC:ATION. By TWO Sis-fers of Nofre Dame. Pp. xvl ~ 237. Frederick Pusfef C~o. (Inc.), New York and C~inclnnaff, 1943. ¯ $2.S0. This work is mostly a development and adaptation of Lind-worsky's doctrine on training the will.The will is formed prin-cipally by suitable motivation suitably inculcated, rather than, for instance, by a sort of will-gymnastics: The three great instincts in human nature, namely, those to superiority, s6ciality, and to self-preservation, are, since the fall, perverted and lead todisorders of every kind. With the help of divine grace; a clear conception and an adequate evaluation of the true destiny of man, and constant co-operation of the will, these three fundamental tendencies can be redirected to what is wholesome, and re-educated, and thus help, rather than hinder, man in reaching that destiny. Character ~s to be judged by these three c~iteria: what a man wills, wh~/, and how. A person is good or bad like his motives. Right motivation depends~ very largely upon keeping attention and thought turned to what is true and good and bea.utiful, and upon appreciating its values. Right emotions follow naturally, and then right attitudes, and these tend to bring about righ~ volition. If all these be maintained and strength: ened with appropriate habits, the result will be the desired good will ¯ and go.od character. The procedure recommended for correcting--n0t for breaking-- the will may be adduced as representative of the book. Suppose a student has an excessive fondness for freedom. It is likely that he really .does not well understand the differences between trueliberty and license. These must be clearly pointed out to him. Then he is to be brought to see and appreciate the advantages of liberty and the disadvantages of license. The corresponding emotions are aroused and fostered~ Then opportunity is given for practice and for finding satisfaction in it. Th~ will must always be cultivated from within, that is, by exciting a.genuine desire for what is good; external rneans~ like setting up sanctions; should be secondary. What has been said will give an idea of the main .psychological principles entering into the structure, of the book. Over and above these there is a multitude of minor pedagogical aids, tables of values, 131. BOOK REVIEWS .- Review for Religious natural and supernatural, lists of attil~udes, of virtues and faults, questions and topics for discussion, etc. The religious and Catholic note is most prominent throughout. As far as~I know, there is no work which would seem to promise more help. for the generality of religious teachers who are eager to direct and perfect the wills of their students. " G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD, S.J. INSTRUCTIONS ON CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE: VOLUME IV. By the Rev- " erend Nicholas O'Rafferfy. Pp. viii -f- 300. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, 1943. $3.25. The first three volumes of this series treated of the Creed, the Sacraments, and' the Commandments of God. The present volume includes instructions on Prayer (the Our Father, Hail Mary, and prayer in general), the Precepts of the Church, Sin (mortal, venial, and the capital sins), and the Virtues (the theological virtues and those contrary to the capital sins). It is difficult to estimate the value of a book like this. Judging the matter as objectively as I can, I should say that priests and Reli-' gion teachers who have the time to consult several books in preparing sermons, instructions, or classes, would find in this book an added help, especially because it contains a wealth of Scripture ,texts. But it is hardly ideal for those who must confine themselves to one or two books. In general it makes .rather hard reading. Except for the fact that the divisions are indicated in introductory paragraphs, con-cluding surveys, and numerals'sepagating the various sections, no ¯ effort has been made to use the 'abundant mechanical .helps that im-press matter on the mind and memory. There are some minor ihac-curacies in the text " inacc~aracies that might escape the notice of those who are not well-grounded in theology. One inaccuracy in particular should be called to the attention of our readers. The authorstates that the Church demands physical intdgrity in those who enter the cloister (p. 226). This'must be a slip of the pen. Perhaps some orders require this; but it certainly is .not demanded by canon law.--G. KELLY, S. d. ST. THEODORE OF CANTERBURY. By the Very Reverehd William Reany, D.D. Pp. ix ~ 227. B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, 1944. $2.00, The scholarly Doctor Reany has added to his former publica-tions, the biography of a great seventh-century Churchman. This St. Theodore is usually known, from the Nace of.his.birth, as St. 132 ~ March. 1944 . BOOK REVlE~WS Theodore of.Tarsus, but is here more properly call~d .from' the place of his See. Divine Providence had very .leisurely prepared the simple.--. monk, Theodore, by studies at Athens and monastic life in both EaSt and West.for the appointment as Archbishop of Cantdrbury in his sixty-sixth year. Tonsured, ordained, and consecrated, h~ came ~to England in 668. He was the first prelate to rule over all of Eng-land, and to weld its differing Christian missions, of Celtic, Roman, and Gallic origins~ into one unified national Church. His hand held the l~elm until his eighty-eighth year, securely guiding the youtig Churc,h into orderly and scholarly currents so truly beneficent for generations to come. The late Cardinal Lepi'cier, O.S.M., Who writes-the preface of this volume, states that it is the firs~ completew0rk bfi Theodore. The painstaking assembling of fragmentary data on Theodore's activities, in chronicles, bishops' installations; ~onciliar acts and the like, is se~ out in such seemingly artless fashion that the writer has had the pain that we may have ttie pleasure. It is easy to see why Engli~hmen of today, who do not share Theodore's Catholid faith, can still see in him one who "laid the foundation of English national unit~;." --- GERALD ELLARD, S.J. THIRTY YEARS WITH CHRIST. By Rosalie Marie Levy. Pp. 2,46. Pub-" llshed by the Author, P.O. Box 158, Station. O, New York I I,.N.Y., 1943. $2.00. . This autobiogiaphy discloses how Miss Levy in her thirty years as a Catholic ~onvert from Judaism has sought to bring the truth to her own race and to whomsover else she can. It tells of her leanings toward Catholicism from youth; of her attempt at religious life in a convent, frustrated by ill health: of a visit to Europe and a pilgrim-age to the Holy Land. The narrative reveals a zeal for Christ that shames the matter-" of-fact attitude of.many a "cradle" Catholic toward the faith. In ¯ 1936 Miss Levy organized the Catholic Lay Apostle Guild whose members circulate Catholic literature and spread Catholic truth bY answerin, g questions regarding Catholic. truths and practices at opeii-air. meetings. Since 1922 she has been active in the Guild of our Lady of Sion~an.organization aimed at the conversion of Jews. Her books include The Heavenl~l Road, designed to bring Jews to the true faith. Other devotional and apologetic titles total six books and~two pamphlets." " : The present work concludes with short biographical sketches of 133 BOOK REVIEWS Ret~iet~ for Religious four notable 3ewish converts; a valuable chapter entitled "The Proper Approach to the 3ewish Mirid"; a short presentation of apologetic q~est[ons and answers; and a ~ollection of correspondence odcasioned during the years of Miss Levy's apostolic work. It is an inspiring autobiography, a valuable handbook for the apologist, and an indispensable aid to those working toward the cofiversion of Jews.--R. SOUTHARD, S.J. WHITE FIRE. By the Reverend E. J. Edward, s. S.V.D. Pp. 219. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, 1943." $2.7S. Effective contrast points to artistic pla.nning and execution. To take such seemingly diverse physical phenomena as a convent garden, brilliantly beautiful with tropical flowers, under a Pacific summer sun, and the malformed, rotting, shocking face of "a half-dead leper in a leprosarium ward; such antagon.istic characters as a young American nun, filled with the love of God and enthusiasm for her work among the lepers for whbm she has willingly given up every-thing, and a despondent, despairing victim of the disease, whose love of God and man and self has turned to fierce hatred; the hdart-wa. r.ming hu.mor of a 'F~ther Doro, and the d~pth,touching pathos of a self-sac.rificing little leper girl, Dolores; nigh-breathless action of plot, and periods ~)f quiet, pr6found contemplation; to take all these--and more and blend and shade and work them into a pleasing comP0.sitel devoid of hash impressionism, calls for an artist's gift arid touch. Father Edwards has done this. Some. may feel that the story--the action--lags occasionally because of the "introspections" of Sister. Agnes Marie. However, the~e are integral parts of the whole an'd give the motivating force of ardent love of God and neighbor which makes Sister Agnes the heroine she certainly is. There-are scenes in White Fire which will beo long remembered: .old Lion Face, the realistic picture of the scourge of. leprosy; the simple, sincere,, and heroic offering of self niade by Dolores to the Santo Nino: and the finale on Christmas Eve which leaves dne thriliing.~M. F. HASTING, S.J. THE SPIRITUAL CONFERENCES OF ST. FRANCIS DE SALES. Pp. Ixxl ¯ -f- 406. The Newman Bookshop, Wesfm;nsfer, Md., 1943. Repr;nf. $2.75. Two or three times a week, when the weather was fine, Bishop Francis de Sales Would go over to the convene orchard of the Visita- 134 March, 1944 BOOK REVIEWS tion motherhouse at Annecy, in southern France, and sit down on. a rustic bench¯ When the nuns, among' them St. Jane-Frances de Chantal, had grouped themselves on the ground around him, he would talk informally on spiritual topics and answer questions; In bad. weather; for he came "even in bad. Weather," they would assemble in the convent p~rlo~. After the conference,a nun, appointed .because of her good memory, jotted down what the bishop had said and supplied, omissions from the memories of her companions. These conferences continued with lessening frequency from 1610 until the l~ishop~s death in 1622, the audience numbering three in the beginning, ten in the second.ye~ar, and increasing steadily thereafter, As other convents of the Visitation were established, the conferences were copied, sometimes not too carefully, and read with great avid-ity and profit¯ in them also. When some Un.scrupulous editor got hold of a copy surreptitio.usly

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

The Mercury February, 1908 HELP THOSE WHO HELP US. The Intercollegiate Bureau of Academic Costume. Cotrell & Leonard, ALBANY, N. Y. Maker* °f CAPS AND GOWNS To Gettysburg College. Lafayette, Lchigh. Dickinson; State College, Univ. of'Penn-sylviini , Harvard. Tale. Princeton, Wellesley, Bryn Mawr and the others. Class Contrasts a Specialty. Correct Hoods for Degrees. To The Class of '08. We have begun our college campaign for next Spriug and Buuimer. Over, 25.000 employers li-ok to Hapgoods for their men in sales, offices and technical positions in all departments. Must of these firms use college men. They arrange with us to cover the entire college world for them. We have a unique proposition of immediate interest to any college aiau who will be open fora propo-sition. Let us tell you about it. Write to-day. TIIK JVMTMOJYAi, «/.■•.'./.WX./7/O.V Oh' iiit.JM.v itiio1,1:us. Commonwealth Trust Building, Philadelphia, Pa. HOTEL GETTYSBURG, Headquarters for BANQUETS. 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PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and develop one of the church in-stitutions with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY S. BONER, Sup't. THE MERCURY The Literary Journal of Gettysburg College. VOL. XV GETTYSBURG, PA., FEBRUARY, 1908 No. 8 CONTENTS ALUM X I SPIRIT .*. 2 PROF. is. j). s'i'.uii.i:v, u.n., "tl. THREE GREAT PHILOSOPHERS. Plato—Part II.11 CHARLES W. IIKATHCOTK, '05. WINTER Poem 16 BOWMAN '10. THE PERSONALITY OF THE MUSICIAN" 18 II. KI:Y WOLF, '09. THE EALNBOW HOPE • 21 Q. ARTHUR KliF.Y. SEMINARY., '08 TAX AX ACCEPTABLE SUBSTITUTE FOE PREACH-ING BE DEVISED? : 25 KiiiiiiAirr, '09. IS THE MATERIAL FOE iSTOVELS EXHAUSTLESSF.-.28 VIRGINIA BEARD, '09. EDITORIALS 31 XH E MEPOUEY. ALUMNI SPIRIT. PROF. G. I). ST.AHLKV. VI.IJ., 187T. R. CHAIRMAN, Members of the Pen and Sword So-ciety, and Students: It is pleasant to have■honors thrust upon one. I appreciate the privilege of becoming a member of the Pen and Sword Society. It has occurred to me to utilize the present occasion hy speak-ing on the subject of Alumni Spirit. A proper alumni spirit, and college prosperity go hand in hand. The alumni are ungrateful and despicable, if they do not lovingly hold in remembrance their college days, and contem-plate with gratitude their alma mater—their nourishing mother, who guided their adolescent steps through the preliminary paths of learning, and established their feet on broad and well tested avenues leading to higher culture. And on the oilier hand that college is short-sighted indeed, that does not recognize-the ne-cessity of co-operation with its alumni in carrying on its educa-tional wmk. To lightly esteem or ignore alumni opinion or in-fluence is 3 suicidal policy for any college to adopt. Alumni spirit has its foundation in college spirit «nd class spirit. It is therefore a product of the four years passed in the college community, and is not a I'rame of mind originated on .commencement day. and formally received, with the diploma, from the hands of the president. Those who have been gradu-ated from college and have frequently seen others graduated, know that commencement day is a day of subdued sadness. The emotions may be well mastered, but the undertone of regret at the breaking up of pleasant companionships certainly exisits. and if not realized by the student then, will he realized later [f the alumni spirit is not invisibly conferred with th degree, then the degree will lack a sentiment and a subtle influence, which will greatly mar its effectiveness as a symbol of eminence attained. Let as consider college spirit as a primal factor in the culti-vati I' alumni spirit. The existence of a college spirit invari-ably follows, wherever there is a college having students. It cannot be otherwise, The institution is the center of the college idea and the exponent of college traditions. The students are THE MKRCURY. there for what the college can give them—of training, incentive, •council,—and it is the rallying jjoint for all their scholastic in-terests and activities. It is their educational home, and it wordd he just'as unnatural for them to disregard their college colors, as it would be to hold in contempt their own family honor. There are various influences winch contribute to the building up of a college spirit. In these days there is no lack of college activities which have in view the betterment of the institution, from tlie student view-point. Athletics with its varied and strenuous features, the musical organizations, literary publica-tions, debating and dramatic clubs, the college Y. M. C A., fra-ternity and inter-fraternity fellowships, together with social en-gagements, present a complex of student interests, which from the amount of time and personal attention they require, often causes alarm, when we stop to consider that in addition to all these activities there is such a thing as a curriculum, \vbieh by fight should also claim a certain portion of the student's time and attention. *J?o those unaccustomed to a student's life, and ignorant of the easy adaptations which characterize college men. the problem of student efficiency, under such conditions, becomes a puzzle, and they shake their heads in emphatic disap-proval. But to those of us who are on the inside, the situation is not alarming, and the logic of our thoughts is to the effect that all these activities contribute mightily to.the building up of a vigorous college spirit. They converge and unify the varied energies of the student body, and definitely determine a rallying center about which to engage with inspiring shouts and songs. Of course there are tendencies in these activities which \wd to be regulated. I beard recently of an employer who said that so many of his workmen were only interested in "pay day and quit-ting time" So it sometimes occurs that students become more interested in these self-assumed enterprises, than in the prose-cution of their studies. But this need not be so. More than fifteen years ago one of our students asked me—"Can a man play football and yet continue to be a good student." I replied —"It can be done, but it requires a level-headed man to do it." fie did not tell me what his decision would be, but I noticed that ■he continued to play football, and during an iniporta.it season he was captain of the team and one of its crack players: when lege is not frequently in their thoughts and their interest seems dormant aft9-de'ad. Such an one I met recently, who did not know of the existence of a certain department in our college, although that department was established twelve years ago. However his heart is all right, and he expects to attend our com-mencement exercises this "summer. A genuine alumni spirit, when at its best, will not allow tin cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches to choke it and to render it unfruitful. Those of us who are officially, or as students connected with the college, and whose interests are therefore at white heat, must not expect the alumni spirit to be always abundant, intense and persistent—but when we do find it characterized by these admirable qualities, we should be willing to accord due credit We have with us to-day an alum-nus, whose spirit of interest in his alma mater'has the qualities T have just mentioned—it is abundant, intense and persistent— I refer of course, to Dr. Gies, the founder of the Pen and Sword Society, the donor of valuable prizes to stimulate literary work in the college, and whose interest in his alma mater has neve] lessened, notwithstanding the multiplied and arduous duties imposed upon him by the professional chair he so ably fills. Alumni interest and college prosperity go hand in hand. The former is i >st valuable asset of the college, and without it. its resources are insignificant indeed. The alumni ptand, as THE MERCURY. did Aaron and Hur, in holding up the anus of Moses,—they assist mightily in securing influence and prevailing power. Many of the best men of the college boards of the land are alumni of the institutions they serve, and some of them are the official rep-resentatives of the alumni associations of their respective col-leges. The alumni on these boards, have, '"both theoretically and as a fact, the best interests of the institution at heart. II' these alumni have been actually engaged in educational work, so much the better,—and for the very forceful reason that familiarity and experience will insure wise opinions and judicious councils. Our own board did a most commendable act, when last commence-ment, they added to their number Dr. Luther P. Eisenhart of the class of '96. Professor Eisenhart secured his doctorate at Johns Eopkins University, and is now a member <.!' tht faculty al Princeton University. His experience and observations at both of these institutions will undoubtedly be of great value to us here. I do-not sympathize with the idea, sometimes express-ed, that a university trained man can be of no service in the coun-cils of a small college. The. objection made is that such an one will endeavor to introduce inapplicable university methods. I belieye this danger to lie imaginary. If Governor Stuart were to be elected Chief Burgess of Gettysburg, 1 do not imagine that he would proceed to establish a State government within the bor-ough limits, but I beli tat his knowledge of what a State government should be, would greatly aid him in building up a good borougli government. His sense of needs, and of adapta-tion, would guide him mosl admirably in giving us a most effi-cient civic administration. At the next meeting of the Board of Trustees, another oppor-tunity will be afforded ih,m. of again adding an educator to their number. As most of you know, at the meeting of our gen-eral Alumni Association during commencement week 'ast sum-mer, when it was announced that the Association had a vacancy to lill in the Board, at once the name of Dr. (lies, of the class of '93, was proposed, The marked enthusiasm which greeted his nomination as the nominee to the Board, and the hearty and unanimous election which immediately followed, was a bigh and merited endorsement by the general alumni body. In addition THE MERCURY. to this, the Pittsburg-Gettysbtfrg Club and the New York-Get-tysburg Club, have, in specific resolutions, unanimously second-ed the request of the general Association. The existence of a provision, which bars from election, an alumnus who is a member of a college faculty cannot consistently be recognized by the Board at its meeting (bis summer, since it has already, and very justly, ignored the propriety of such an objection, by the'elec-tion of Professor. Eisenhart, The qualifications of Doctor Gies ;is a counselor in educational matters are beyond question. He has been a university man for the past fifteen years. He *m.< ■' received his degree of Do-.tor of Philosophy at Yale in 1898, and that fall began to organize a department of Physiological Chemistry in Columbia University. So well did he succeed in this work that in 1904, or in eleven years after his graduation here, he became a full professor in that great university. Our college, needs (he interest of its alumni, and it needs the active counsel and assistance of those of our alumni graduates who have a practical acquaintance with the educational methods of on- dav. Alumni spirit needs the fosteiing care of recogni-tion, in order that it^iecoiiie^a power for good in advancing the interests of our beloved college We have an institution here to be proud of. E desire to utter the it-liberate judgment, based upon history, observation and fact, that Pennsylvania College has always compared favorably with any other American collegiate institution,—in respect to advantages offered, the standing of its alumni in the higher ac-tivities of life, and. in the representative character of its student body. ■ • Through veais of toil, and by reason of the devotion of its ardent trends and the labors of its instructors, Pennsylvania College has secured to itself a rich prestige of scholarly tradi-tions, and a name and fame for honest achievement, which we . -will do well to guard with jealous care. The past is secure. No profane tongue may successfully dis-credit either the work or the workers. The success of the in-stitution has been evolutionary, cumulative, progressive and we of to-day have inherited a privilege and an obligation. The de-cades of the past mark successive periods of continuous growth and development, and the obligation is insistent that future de- 10 THE MERCURY. cades shall come to their proper inheritance. The work of the present is admirably consonant with the achievements of the past. Progress is still the watchword, as is witnessed by the recent additions in instructors, new departments and new courses. All hail, then, to bur college in its continued onward strides, and all hail to thai essential alumni spirit, which if properly recognized and nourished, will do wonders for our alma mater. And all hail to our undergraduate body of students, who are now diligently cultivating college spirit and class spirit, in order that they may become efficiently equipped with an abundant alumni snirit. [Note:—This address was delivered by Dr. Stahley upon his initiation into the Pen and Sword Society at its annual public .neeting February twelfth. The members of the Society, appre-ciating its excellence, unanimously voted after its collation, to have it published in the MERCURY in order that those who were not present at the time it was delivered might have an opportu-nity of reading it.—EDITOR.] THE 3IEKCURY. 11 THREE GREAT PHILOSOPHERS. Plato—Part II. Cir.VHI.ES W. HEATHCOTE, '05. HE underlying principle in Plato's philosophy is his Theory of Ideas. The various philosophers who pre-ceded Plato prepared the way for the development of his Doctrine of Ideas. He takes the golden thread which runs through their philosophical systems and withvhis master mind weaves the network for his own system. In great part he was indebted to the Eleatics, Heracliteans and Pytha-goreans for his Doctrine of Ideas. He took the abstract matter of thought and moulded it into a "concrete form of an ideal vision." . The Idea.- ( iBei ) stand as archetypes of Being. They are the conceived essence of true existence. Plato gave to the Ideas a separate existence. Their home is in the Universal Mind or God. There is a gradual rise from the lower ideas to the high-est. The highest is the idea of the Good which Plato seems to identify with God and which he construes to be the source of knowledge. Plato was in harmony, in part, at least with the current view of his age, in recognizing the existence of certain minor dieties, but he purified this thought with the true spirit of his philoso-phy. He asserts again and again that the Ideas are divine. In recognizing one Supreme Idea, he held that this Idea was the Highest or God: As a manifestation of this goodness, God cre-ated the world. Or as Zeller well says: "In thus determining the highest Being as the Good, and as Season assigning an end, Plato apprehends it as the creative principle, revealing itself in the Phenomenon; because God is good, He formed the world." In forming the world, Plato firmly held in mind that God had created it perfect. It was not controlled and governed by Blind Force. Law and order prevailed everywhere as the rul-ing factors. Thus mind and intelligence formed the basis of all this creative power. As Plato conceived of God's intelligence being so clearly marked in its perfect form of creation, he also developed the idea of the World-soul. .That is Plato believed 12 THE MERCURY. that intelligence could not exist apart from the soul life. Con-sequently, he believed that God placed the world's intelligence into a true soul-life known as the World-soul. Plato divided this World-soul into two parts, known as the outer and inner. These •parts conceived of as being spherical in form make up the world-system. The outer circle is the system of fixed stars and the inner "the seven spheres of the planets." Thus the soul on ac-count of it; very nature is governed by true law and as it moves continuously it gives the proper place, position and motion of all the heavenly orbs. To tine"World-soul, because of its self-mo-tive power, he ascribes it the faculty of generating knowledge. Plato in writing of the power of the World-soul was using figurative language. It is true that he literally ascribed a sou] to the world yet.the meaning of the word as he uses it embraces too much in its broad conception. With respect to the soul of man Plato carefully reasons that God formed it out of the same elements as the World-soul, but less pure. When the Creator made the souls of men, he made as many souls as there were fixed stars and each soul had one of these stars as its true and eternal habitation. When'man was created, one of these souls would be implanted in his body. To-the soul that would be victorious over wickedness and evil it would be released from its bodily home and be restored to the realms of immortality. But the individual who would fail to-conquer the temptations of his lower nature, his soul would be condemned to dwell among the fierce beasts. But since the soul has pre-existed without bodily form, in the end it will be freed from its sinful bodily home and will fly to those realms where it can grow in power and strength and attain perfection. Plato-did not think that any one did wrong willfully, but Virtue and Good were overruled by a weak and disordered body. This was due to the improper use of the body and the lack of careful Ju-dicious exercise. Thus, parents should live nobly in order that their children would be spiritually strong, in order that the soul might be pure and reach that ideal state of perfection. He firmly believed that man was placed at the head of crea-tion and because of this grand heritage he should continually strive to live the Higher Life. Plants and animals were cre-ated for man's use and to serve his purpose. Animals were THE MERCURY. 13 formed not only as food for him, but also as the dwelling place of man's soul that had proved itself unworthy for the realms of immortal life. "Plants too are living beings, but their so\rl is of the lowest kind, capable neither of reason nor opinion, but only of desire and sensation; a soul only moved from without, to which has been denied the motion that proceeds from and re-turns into itself—self-consciousness, therefore, plants can never change their place." (Zeller page 432.) Socrates had taught that the attainment of the Good by each individual should be each one's best and noblest endeavor. Plato imbibed this golden truth from his great master and inculcated the principle that the individual should so live day by day that his soul would attain the Ideal—the Highest Good. This was to be the ultimate aim of each soul, both for the at-tainment of it in the individual life and for the interests of the State. Plato was so deeply impressed with the reality of evil in the world that the soul was never free from it. As long as the soul resided in the body it was fettered there as in a prison or a dungeon. It was unable to flee away to the Higher Life. However the soul, at. the first opportunity, he realizes, must escape from this corporeal existence and seek its home with God in order to be happy. However, true philosophy serves a pur-pose which is helpful in part, at least, that by its very essence, it has the power of purification. The soid, the center of the intelligence' desires'this philosophy not per se as a pleasure re-sulting from contemplation, but as a power and a help to purify it foi* the Higher Life that is to come. On the other hand, Plato well observes that a soul that does not feel the sting of pain, suffering and anguish could not truly appreciate the Higher Life. Though the soul may be surround-ed by wickedness in its darkest form, nevertheless, there are times when the soul is able to be glad and joyful for the rays of goodness that it is able to receive from the Eternal Light. Pleasure in a certain degree may be considered as a part of the Good. The soul in its present prison, Plato rightly believes, is able to enjoy certain pleasures that are in harmony with natural law and careful living. Those joys that require the im-proper use of the faculties are impure and destructive in their participation. The first and supreme pleasure should be the 14 TIIH JIERCUKY. contemplation of the Idea Good in the present soul Kfe and the striving to realize or actualize the Good in the present life as far as possible. This plan will make the soul truly crave Virtue. In this thought Plato truly reiterates the sublime principle of Socrates. For he emphasizes the idea that morality is based'upon a clear conception of virtuous living. The soul fills itself with the Divine Goodness through contemplation. It is the true philoso-phy of life Then the soul becomes strong and even here on earth can treak down many of the bars of evil and wickedness which summoned it. Through this power it can copy more clearly the archetype conception of Goodness, for the very thought becomes indelibly impressed upon the soul. ' It has been shown that Virtue was the great Ideal for the in-dividual to attain, so this same principle was to be the foundation of the State and Platonic Society. The Greeks held the true organization of the State to be of the utmost importance. They were taught to give true allegi-ance to th.T State. Although Plato strongly believed that moral integrity and good government were necessary for the well being of the State, but he looked upon ihe participation in its affairs not as an absolute but only a relative duty. He thinks the life of the philosopher as he contemplates, in a quiet and undisturb-ed way, on the Higher Problems of life is fulfilling the true end of living. Since it is impossible for all men to live thus, philo-sophically speaking, the State is a moral necessity in order by education to inculcate virtue in the minds of its citizens. The philosophers can only give the inhabitants of the community a true conception of Virtue and they should be the ruling class and Philosophy though united with political ideals, should oc-cupy the first place and all trouble and discontent would be avoided. Or as Uberweg says: "The State is the individual on a large scale. The highest mission of the State is the training of the citizens to virtue. In the Ideal State each of the three principal functions and corresponding virtues of the soul is represented by a particular class of citizens. These are (1) the rulers, whose virtue is wisdom; (2) the guardians or warriors, whose virtue is valor; and (3) the manual laborers and trades-men, whose virtue is self-restraint'and willing obedience. The THE MEKCURY. 13 rulers and warriors are to labor only for the realization of the true and the good: all individual interests whatsoever are for-biddui them, and they are all required to form in the strictest sense one family, without marriage and without private prop-erty." It has been observed that Plato believed in the existence of •God. He clearly shows throughout his philosophical system that lie is a Theist. He repudiates all the stories of the various gods ;is myths and false. Plato was unable to describe God fully as one who is Love, although he catches glimpses of this great fact, but it remained for the Gospel to give the conception of God to the world. In his conception, of the State he inculcates the grand truth that God must be sought after in order that virtue mav be the crowning possession of the soul. Plato also ascribes nnchangeableness and perfection to God. According to Plato in the Laws every citizen who holds public office should fear God and remember his duty to God and the soul that God gave him is higher than the body. Thus every citizen should be faithful .and honest in the discharge of his duties. It is true that the philosophical and governmental teachings of Plato were ideal in their conception, but he was nevertheless truly conscious of his surrounding conditions. He tried by his teachings to help the Athenians in a practical way toward attain-ing better governments and living. Plato more than any other philosopher made Athens the philosophical center of the world, that remained years after she lost her political supremacy. A large number of students from all parts of the world were at-tendant upon his lectures at the Academy. The influence of Plato was widely felt and as time has gone on his thought has affected philosophy and theology. After Plato's death his nephew, Spensippus, succeeded to the headship of the Academy. He was followed by Xenocrates a philosopher.of considerable ability and power. Many of the philosophers of the Platonic school departed from the original teachings of their master. They developed a phi-losophy known as Neo-Platonism which was not pure. Greek philosophy hut was a combination of Hellenic, Helraic and other Oriental speculative thought. However, true constructive historical criticism has resulted in 16 THE MERCURY. giving to the philosophical world purer Platonism and his spirit is not lost in the meshes of Neo-Platonic thought. His thought and philosophy have so deeply permeated oiu own language that gain and again in discussing various philosophical problems we will speak of Platonic conceptions unconsciously. Or as Milton n II Peneseroso has said: "Or let my lamp at midnight hour Be seen from some high lonely tower, Where 1 may oft outwatch the Bear With thrice great Hermes, or unsphere The spirit of Plato, to unfold The immortal mind that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshy nook; And of those/lemons that are found In fire, air, flood, or under ground, Whose power hath a true consent With planet or with element." WINTER. no W.MAX. '10. The cycle of a year is closed. The seasons one by one have passed: Spring's rising beauty, summer's ioy And autumn's gold are gone at last, And now o'er every field and wood, And brook and stream in all the land There sways the scepter, firm and strong. Of old Kino- Winter's icy hand. CHE MEKCURY. 17 That 'monarch rales with will supreme; By his decree' the brooklet's voice, To summer woods, the croaning charm No more shall make the soul rejoice; For fetters, strong as hands of steel And cold as touch of gruesome Death Have bound the stream from shore to shore, Forged by King Winter's icy breath. O'er his domain a curtain white- Is falling thick and fast, The trees are bending with the load The gloomy shy upon them cast, And o'er the hill and meadow cold The icy wind and snowflakes drive, And here and there before the storm In quest of shelter snowbirds dive. Though all without is cruel, cold. Yet by the hearth there's sunshine, love; For by the fire young and old Enjoy the blessings from above; They hear the sire talk of yore, They drink to one another's health. Forgetful of the cold and snow, Enjoying all the farmer's wealth.' Though Winter rules with cruel hand, Ami cold and gloomy seemeth all; Though nature's beauties all seem gone And hopelessly thy spirits fall, Remember Winter has its joys And love and sunshine may reside Within thy heart, if thou but wilt Look on the bright and happy side. IS THE MERCURY. THE PERSONALITY OF THE MUSICIAN. II. RET WOLF.-'09. OMB one has said thai personality is individuality ex-isting in itself, with nature as a ground. Another says thai personality in a broad sense is a silent but powerful coercer of liunian minds.- 1 would not at-tempt to give a definition of it, but it seems to be a vital princi-ple of life. It is a mystery and seems to defy solution. We know to a certain extent from our own experience what perso-nality is. We see its manifestations from day to day in human ■experiences but we can not detect or define it as something thoroughly comprehended. I think we will not be over estimating when we say that one's success in life depends very greatly on one's personality. It seems that in some person; a strong individuality is a natural gift, while in others it must be acquired. A teacher's personality is a very important factor in his work. His influence over the pupil is something marvelous. His movements are watched, bis every action is carefully obseived and even his moral and mental attitude toward va-ious problems is noted. He is taken as an example; hence the importance of a strong personality. The teacher must have personality, the minister, whom we may class also as a teacher, ought to be able to command respect, the orator's influence depends upon it. the business man's success is measured largely by bis individuality and it is only the politician having some such personal magnetism, who can sway the multi-tudes. Lyinan .). Gage, formerly Secretary of the tJ. S. Treas-ury. in speaking' recently of personality, says, that deep within the man often unconscious to himself, lie the forces, the aptitudes, the desires, the anticipations, the tastes, the proclivities, the temperamental qualities which find outward expression indepen-dent of bis will. Further in the article he states that a change in our personality in the direction of improvement, whatever the cause, must come from within. The mental faculties can be strengthened by exercise an*: the emotional nature nourished by pure ideals. It is our duty to develop these useful inward forces and powers which really constitute one's personality. It is this personal factor tbat-lifts one into prominence and power, and- THE JCEItCURY. 19 gives him that strength of leadership which nothing else can do. Thus, we see of what importance individuality is in the different vocations of life. I deem a strong personality in the fine arts to be the highest kind of personality. It is really difficult to find language prop-erly to express just what is meant. While all culture has a re-lining infhiaice, continually nourishing our minds with the very best of noble ideals and aspirations, yet some arts seem to give more culture than others. Among such arts we would place music as one of the first. It would be impossible for one to de-scribe the numerous emotions and sundry expressions of feeling that musi"; reveals. Every selection of music is to represent some emotion or feeling Since we class music as such a distinguished art, the question now arises as to how a musician's personality is shown. We can safely say that this is revealed in his work as a composer or in his interpretation of the thoughts of others, as they are repre-sented in music. Harmony and teehnic must of course be mast-ered, but after a thorough knowledge of teehnic is acquired, there is boundless opportunity for expression and style. Teeh-nic. must always be a mechanical art, and as such, it has no real musical feeling in it. Fere is the opportunity to show indi-viduality. Scarcely two persons will place the same interpreta-tion upon a selection of music, thus showing the difference of human powers in interpretation. There is just as much differ-ence in the merits of musical compositions as there is in the merits of powers. Some are strictly true to nature and to life, while others are of mediocre merit. Of course, this is entirely a matter of individuality again, showing, on the other hand, a keen and perceptive mind, tnd on the other, a lack of keen in-terpretation. What we call genius is really nothing but the highest manifestation of personality. We sometimes speak of persons playing music by eae. This shows musical talent and is nothing but the crude and untrained personality seeking an out-let. It seems that the appreciation of really good music conies only through education, however broadly that term may be appli-ed. By culture we are brought to the appreciation of classical music, just as we are brought to the appreciation and preference of Shakespeare to the common, ordinary literature. 20 THE AU'JHCCJKY. It is only through persistent study that this musical person-ality can be attained. We may read numberless musical maga-zines, we may attend all tha high-grade concerts ttyat it is possi-ble for us to attend, but it is oniy by personal efforts that any-thing in this direction can be accomplished. We must take some selection, study the composer, know his nature, study the title of the composition, find out, if possible, under what circumstances lie composed that special selection, then study the music measure by measure, and endeavor to catch the spirit and feeling of the composer by placing yourself in his mental attitude. This may seem to be a rather crude method of procedure, but personally I have found it of inestimable value in interpreting a composer. Having studied a composition carefully, the next step is its proper execution. Music, if it is worthy to be called music, must appeal to our higher instincts. We must think and follow its meaning just as if we were paying attention to some one talking. This is true art at its greatest. The musician also shows his personality in the selections that he plays. Unfortunately, classical music is rather unpopular. The, popular music is light, catchy and gay and to many means simply to dance or an accompaniment. Harmony is an import-ant element in music and any selection that is harmonious is re-ceived with applause. Classical music may often seem unharmo-nious, especially to the untrained hearer. This is one reason why it is spurned. This idea of harmony in our nature rests on a psychological fact and music only serves as an excellent proof of it. There is nothing more simple and at the same time more beau-tiful than some of Mendelssohn's songs, Schumann's "Frau-merer" or Chopin's nocturnes. Such selections as these are worth mastering. Webber's "Storm" and Gottschalk's "Last Hope" are very popular. A careful study of such selections can not help but create within us noble ideals and wonderfully broaden our ethical natures. Of course we would not entirely ignore the popular music of the day, it .has its qualities and therefore has its place, but it ought to be strictly held to its place. It is well, however, whenever the opportunity comes to dem-onstrate the superior qualities of good music. Thus we can be-come acquainted with a person to a certain extent, by the kind THE MERCURY. 8] of music that he or she plays. We generally play the kind of music that we admire, because it expresses our sentiments- and feelings. We therefore embody in music, and through it, ex-press our ideals. Can there be anv higher manifestation of personality? Tqp RAINBOW HOPE. C. AliTIiri! FliY, SrEMlXARY, '08. EARLY four thousand years ago one of the spiritual giants of antiquity propounded the weighty question: "Ir a man die shall lie live again ?"—a ques-tion which lie himself answered. Probably the most thonght-of, the most talked-about, the most writ-ten- upon subject of all times has been that of immor-tality. Problems in science, art, philosophy, government, etc., all live their little day, in the arena of thought and disappear, but the human race has never outlived this question of Job's. It is still a burning thought in the hearts of the cul-tured, scientific twentieth century as it has been to all the conn-tries since the dawn of time Scholars in all branches of learn-ing are still brooding and writing upon it, and the common peo-ple are asking and re-asking this gVeat question, and will con-tinue to do so until time shall be no more. It is the one great universal problem which has maintained itself in every age and clime and has never lost its interest and power in the thought of mankind. No race or tribe of men have ever been known who were destitute of the thought of immortality. And why is it thus? Surely it must be more than "the riddle of the uni-verse." Men are not haunt.d with riddles. It's an intuition of; the human mind, an appetence of the human heart, wrought into, the whole fibre of the race that cannot be dismissed without1: some sort of solution, any more than the appetence of li.iui.u"<-i - that gnaws in the stomach and demands satisfaction. 22 THE MEHUURY. "It must be so Plato, thou reasoneth well! Else whende this pleasing hope, tbis fond desire. This longing after immortality? Or whence this secret dread and inward horror Of falling into naught? Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us; Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man." Listen to the testimony of Eobert G. Ingersoll, the prince of modern agnostics, in the last words he wrote: "Immortality with its countless hopes and fears beating against the shores of time, was not born of any book nor of any creed, nor of any religion. It was born of human affection, and will continue to ebb and pow beneath the mists and clouds of at. doubt and darkness as long as love kisses the lips of death. It is the rainbow of hope, shining on the tears of grief " What strange words from one who shrouded that "rainbow of hope" in wreathing clouds of doubt and fear and darkness, to whose thought "the golden bridge of life from gloom emerges and on shadow rests, and the secret of the future has ne'er been told." However, men may reject God's revelation in His Son, or deny the future life, yet they cannot utterly silence the voice of God speaking in their hearts. Yes, there are some who say,—and their number is so infmi-tessimally small that we may rightfully call them mental curios, yes mental freaks, if you please—that "death ends all." What a horrible thought! The Gnod, the True, the Pure, shall at least become the brother of the Base, the False, the Vile in death. Tendencies and qualities that in life are far.as the poles asunder, and can never be rconciled, shall at least become a unit in deat'i If that be true, then virtue has no lasting rewards, then unde-tected wrong-doing will forever go unpunished, and the wrongs inflicted upon innocence will never be made right. If death ends all then life has no meaning, no purpose, no inspiration., "and the human race with all its grand achievements, with it-continuous onward and upward march will finally reach the THE MERCURY. 23 zenith of perpetual night, beyond which shines no resurrection morn The light in the sun and stars shall be extinguished, the human race with all that it has done and hoped, shall become a nonentity, and the universe will go into everlasting darkness. Standing at the grave of sieve loved one how much comfort does that theory give:" How much light does it throw upon the dark avenues of human life? How much strength does it impart for the bearing of life's burdens? What inspiration to high en-deavor and noble living does it kindle? None! To affirm the negative of being is to rob hope, faith, patience, love, forbear-ance and kindred graces that enrich life and make character beautiful, of their meaning, and make them well nigh valueless. The noblest aspirations of the heart and the loftiest Teasoning of the mind all revolt when confronted with the postulate of eternal non-existence. Not only within ourselves do we find the intimations of a higher life, but all nature round about us seems to voice the truthfulness of our intimations. The natural world teem? with analogies which suggest the eternal life of the spirit. Take for example the migrations of birds, and especially the ndy-thmated humming bird, the only humming bird known around here. When the leaves begin to fall and the flowers fade he wends his way toward the South American home and spends the winter in his warmer native climes beyond the Amazon. But when it's, early spring here, he becomes restless and yields him-self to the migratory instincts working in his being. If you were, to ask him where or how far he is going, he couldn't tell you, for he doesn't know. All he knows is that his instincts tell him to fly and they point out to him The direction in which he shall go. So he starts out for the far north lands thousands of miles away, feeding by day, flying by night over mountains and plains and seas until he arrives here in these temperate zones of the North, where the dimly implanted instinct of migration which he has obeyed, finds its fullest satisfaction: God never cheats the little bird. So every human being is endowed with the instinct of immortality. Constantly within us we feel the movements of the higher life. There's an inward impulse that tells of a higher world order and bids us seek it, and with our superior intelligence and the light of God's Word we follow this dimly-implanted impulse, we too shall be satisfied, for the God 2<± THE MERCURT. who does not deceive the little humming bird will not deceive man. "He who, from zone to zone, (inides through the boundless sky the certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone Will lead my steps aright." Nature literally abounds witb bints on immortality, and as men of large vision, like Bacon. Newton and Fiske. uncover her secrets they find nothing that would contradict our best hopes, yea. many of these men acquainted with nature's workings have built their arguments for immortality on this very knowledge. For the Christian believer, however, this problem is no longer on debateable ground. His Lord and Master lias spoken the final word and revealed for human life, a destiny so glorious, a purpose so exalted, that it makes life well worth the living, ting-ing it with rainbows of joyous hopes and golden promises, not ending in "zero and a wall of blackness," but sweeping up through the clouds, and beyond the stars, to the walls of jasper, the gates of pearl, the streets of gold, and "the river of the water of life clear as crystal proceeding out of the throne of God." To such the question of immortality is not a nightmare of thought, nor is the future wreathed in mists and fogs so dense that we cannot know what lies beyond, but rather is bright and radiant :as the noonday sun. Jesus Christ is the one all-convincing an-swer to this problem of the ages. He alone is the all-satisfying response to the cry of the human spirit for God and the life be-yond, and in Him the native intuition and longing for immor-tality is transformed into one of the abiding, unshakeable cer-tainties of existence, so that with him who "heard the voice from heaven as the sound of many waters and saw the holy city, the New Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven" we can say, "Xow are we the sons of God and it doth not yet appear what we shall be, but we know that when He shall appear, we shall be like Him for we shall see Him as He is." THE MEROBBTSJ 25 CAW AN ACCEPTABLE SUBSTITUTE FOR PREACHING BE DEVISED? f E-IEHAKT '09. X this tiny and generation when men arc prone to look with disdain upon the "Old Things" and are con-tinually striving to produce something now, original, and up-to-date; when men are much inure attracted, by worldly things than their own soul's salvation; when the mere fact that the preaching of the Gospel is able to claim its true origin from Christ and therefore to be classed among the prac-tices of the ancients, we often cast about us and seek a substi-tute for the preaching of the Gospel from the pulpit. Can there ever be found a substitute for the active, earnest, consecrated minister, whom everyone must recognize and to "whom so much of our scanty praise is due? . Without a doubt there would be or perhaps have been suggest-ed ways and means whereby a substitute for preaching could be obtained, but when we get down to the very essence of things it is clearly apparent to a man of ordinary common sense that it would be impossible to do so without very dire results following. • The very nature of man demands it, it seems. .Man must have some ideal, perfect and spotless, kind yet omnipotent, to look to, to worship, and to whom his mind may turn for help in time of trouble,—for to many, trouble alone will cause God to come into their thoughts. The natural mind demands this. We see it among all nations and classes, from our own class of people down to the lowest forms of human kind. If the heathen in his superstition, fol-lowing the inclination of his mind and. fearful of things un-known to him worships so reverently in his blind way. and is so diligent in doing what has been laid down to him as precepts. how much more ought we who are certain and assured in our faith and have reason to believe ours to be a real and ever pres-ent God, one to whom we owe much and to whom our poor thanks and praises are ever due? How much greater should be our reason to guard ourselves and strive to abide by what has so often been impressed upon us both by word and t\w<]! The natural man is open and susceptible to suggestion to a. 26 THE MERCURY. very marked degree, being ever ready to yield to and turn aside whenever am rldly plJ«easun obsta the h "/on,. regardless of the consequences. In his weakness, he must have some outside agent to offset these, evil influences that sur-round him and by counter suggestion or example turn his mind toward the true way to happiness, away from the gaudy "fool's gold" of the world. I hear the question, "Cannot man by studying his Bible thor-oughly, the concordance of the Scriptures, and books of such a nature, if he is earnest so hold, guide and guard himself as to he above and beyond these evil influences as well as he who goes to church front Sunday to Sunday and listens to sermons direct from the same sources?" Ai first thought this would no doubt seem good logic and peiv haps in theory would be beneficial, but let us consider:— Take it for granted,—although we all know such would not be the case,—that each church-goer and church member would study his Bible lesson thoroughly, think it out for himself, weigh it carefully and eventually apply it to himself as it seems best to him. would he derive as much bench! ami see the same pre-cepts embodied in the subject as he who has listened to a well prepared sermon by an eloquent minister, whose business it is to make a careful research along such lines and then goes home to ponder and reflect? As a powerful analogous example take our own colleges: they stand out squarely against any such principle. They recognize that men cannot attain to any degree of perfection of knowledge through dry text books alone. We ourselves know that more real knowledge comes to us through the lectures than any mere study of the text could warrant. The living voice is the prime factor in all education, shown only loo clearly in the Mu<\y of languages, including our own. The Christians as well as the students cannot possibly get in a few hours' study what their ministers or teachers get who have spent many years or even a lifetime doing only such work. Xo matter how diligently and faithfully Christians would work and study their Bibles, ours.would soon be a divided reli-gion, falling far short of its original purpose, a subject for con-troversy, doomed to Sorrow and despair, because of the manv THE MEKCURY. 27 different and even false interpretations which would of neces-sity be put upon the Scriptures, whether through sincerity on the part of the Christians or by the unscrupulous. We need not even take into consideration the natural back-sliders or the lower and less'educated classes of people for their condition speaks out strongly for itself against any course such as would be proposed. They of a certainty cannot do without the willing shepherd's care and attention. In order that the Word of God may become popular and stand out against and hold its own with the other attractive literature of to-day, it must be preached, spoken from the pulpit and its beauty and powerful truths shown as well as to have light thrown upon it. What has made Roosevelt and his policies so popular? The MTV fact that he is able to preach (speak) his theories and then by example prove their value. I dare say his policies are reeog-. nized all over the world and only because he does not hesitate to speak them and then practice what he preaches. The lawless forces in our country attack, and yet fear him and his disciples, striving to bring about their downfall as strongly as does Satan and his mighty host to bring to naught the works of righteous-no.- and God's worshippers throughout the world. Can we see any advantages arising in view of such conditions, if we should substitute? But examine and consider the doctrines and teachings of the great, noble, men in the church of the past and we see that they too. whose authority and precepts we must accept on account of their value alone, have not overlooked this very thing and that they realize fully that the existence or non-existence of our church rests alone in the preaching of God's Word. Paul in 1 Cor. 1:1