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Issue 42.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1983. ; REVIEW FOR R~.L~c, lous (ISSN 0034-639X), published evcry 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. Rv.vw.w FOR REI.IGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1983 by R~.v~Ew ~:oR REIAG~OUS. 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: REVI~:W I.'OR REHC.tOIIS: 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 July/August, 1983 Volume 42 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REWEW ~'OR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Oul of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms Intergational; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Trends in Religious Life Today John M. Lozano, C.M.F. On the evening of June 16, in joint sponsorship with St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS launched the fi~st of an annual series of lectures and colloquies on a subject of pertinence to religious life as such. The first lecture in this series, the basis of the present article, was given by Father John Lozano, already known to our readers as an author specializing in the history and theology of religious life. Father Lozano has taught at universities both here and abroad; he is presently superior of the Claretian house of studies in Chicago and teaches at the Catholic Theological Union there. He may be addressed at his residence: Claret House; 5540 S. Everett; Chicago, IL 60637. The following reflections are offered as a sort of aerial photograph of the most prominent features emerging on the landscape of the religious life. We will take a look at some of the main trends that seem to be shaping the future .of this landscape, and examine some of the main difficulties that its terrain presents for the religious traveler today. Many of these trends and difficulties seem to be closely interrelated. At the end of our survey we will concentrate on one major difficulty that seems to arise from causes that are more general than is sometimes supposed. I will be speaking mainly from the viewpoint of the northern hemisphere (North American and Europe), but my work in some other parts of the globe (Latin America, Australia and the Philippines) has shown that the same trends are emerging in broad areas throughout the Church. The rapidity of modern communications and the international outreach of books and reviews has tended to hasten the spread of ideas and attitudes from one continent to another. I base these reflections on my personal experience. During the last twenty years, which I have dedicated to studying the religious life and working with a broad spectrum of men's and women's religious communities, I have always striven to relate a theological vision of the religious life to the experiences that I 481 4119 / Review for Religious, July-August; 1983 and those I worked with were undergoing at the time. I have also had to pay close attention to what others were writing on these subjects. Naturally, my nearness to the phenomena I deal with (my own present) has been a somewhat mixed blessing: on the one hand, it has given me the immediacy of an "insider's" experience of these phenomena; on the other, it has been a real test of objectivity, since I had to write about them with a degree of passionate involvement. For this is a history we are all enjoying and suffering together~ In the exposition that follows, I have chosen not to separate trends in theology from trends in life, since common sense and all my previous work have shown them to be intimately related. There is no need to dwell on the particular circumstances that lead us to reflect on the present state of the religious life. It is a well-known fact that it is currently undergoing a serious crisis of growth and adaptation. Many are wondering if it really has a future,~ while a number of religious communities who have felt a sharp decrease in membership are worrying whether they will manage to survive. In view of these facts, it makes little sense to try to lay the blame for them on individual failures. What we are going through is a failure of institutions as such? This is not surprising if we bear in mind the profound technological and cultural changes that have taken place in our society, as well as the rapidity with which they have occurred and will continue to occur. The Second Vatican Council spoke of our times as a new epoch in history and tried to make the Church face up to it. In a memorable address to the Wes~on School of Theology, Karl Rahner stated that "the second Vatican Council is, in a rudimentary form still groping for identity, the Cl~urch's first self-actualiza-tion as a World Church.'~ Thus the third great epoch of the Church's history is beginning to open up, after the. very brief Judeo-Christian Epoch and the Occidental Epoch that started when Paul brought the gospel to the Gentiles and began incarnating it in their culture. The deep changes which this new epoch will bring, although they will surely be of great consequence for the Church, can as yet hardly be glimpsed. If the Church is already witnessing some of these profound changes, then the religious life, which in its various forms has always tried to respond to the needs of the Church, will itself have to undergo a necessary crisis of readjust-ment. That is why we simply have to reflect on what is going on. In dealing with the mosi general trends observable in the religious life today, it seemed appropriate to group them under the following six headings: 1) the centrality of the person, 2) the growing advocacy of women's rights, 3) the predominance of life over institutions, 4) ministerial openness to the world, 5) the reinterpretation of religious life, and 6) the problem of lifelong commitment. Finally, we will consider a single issue of great concern: the scarcity of vocations. 1. The Centrality of the Person The frequency with which certain aspects of religious life are discussed, and Trends in Religious I~fe / 411~ the way in which certain concrete situations are handled, reveal a growing tendency to regard the religious person as a central criterion. This theme has been the object of deep philosophical reflection by Christian thinkers during our century. In France, it was first dealt with by Jacques Maritain and then in a quite different way by Emmanuel Mounier. In Europe generally, the trauma of modern dictatorships--which made party or national loyalty the life-or-death criterion for the individual--also helped us see the dangers latent in the way some religious families viewed issues of solidarity and obedience. The trauma was a salutary one, because both the theoretical authoritarianism of anti-democrats like Charles Maurras and the practical authoritarianism of dictators like Mussolini, Salazar, Franco and Peron had no small influence in some ecclesiastical and religious circles. But since the time of John XXIII, a new definition of the common good has begun to leave its mark on magisterial teachings and statements.4 This definition regards the common good not as the sum of common goals (to which individuals are sacrificed), but as an environ-ment of freedom, peace and solidarity where persons may more readily achieve development and fulfillment. Even in the darkest hours of the past, no matter how much we conformed, somewhere in the back of our memory we could never quite let go of the Loi'd's saying that "the sabbath was made for human beings, not human beings for the sabbath," or of the pastoral axiom that "the sacraments are for persons." But clearly, our more democratic milieu and the institutional images it projects, together with the spread of the new psycholo-gies of personal development in Europe and North America, have made us more sensitive to this theme. 1.1. The Development of One's Own Talents. This is not only an important concern for individual religious, but also figures in a whole series of renewed constitutions. In the past, constitutions ordinarily asked community leaders to watch over the spiritual and physical welfare of their sisters and brothers.5 The new texts ask them to facilitate the overall growth of their sisters and brothers, whether on the level of psychological health, education or professional prepa-ration. 6 In fact, a number of the new constitutions speak of the overall growth of the religious, and make the community co-responsible with the individual in achieving this growth.7 The now-common secretariats and programs for con-tinuing formation and education point in the same direction. But individual religious share this concern. There is a general tendency to affirm oneself and develop one's gifts. This has had its effect on spirituality, which is viewed as a means for achieving one's full potential (holiness/whole-ness), and on the theology of the vows, which are viewed dynamically, as means to personal growth.8 The achievement of personal fulfillment was already a goal in the teaching of Aquinas and Bonaventure, who treated the vows as means for arriving at the perfection of charity,9 although greater stress is laid today on the overall aspect of maturity. One difficulty felt by many religious and frequently echoed in religious chapters and congresses, can be summed up in the question: How are one's 411~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 personal fulfillment and gifts to be related to the common good, aims and ministries of the institute?10 Theoretically, the issue seems clear enough. On the one hand, the members of every religious community share a common voca-tion and have received from God the same charism that was first given to their founder or foundress. On the other hand, each member is a different personal-ity, with different gifts that he or she has a duty to cultivate and make bear fruit. In short, it is a matter of a diversity of personalities being united in communion. We should perhaps note in passing that actual, absolute liberty, that is, the real possibility of developing one's personality to the maximum, simply does not exist. Every adult, even one who is single and free, has to build his or her existence within a limited gamut of possibilities, and always with some attendant sacrifices. No one, let alone a person committed to one or more persons in a family, in matrimony or in a celibate community, can work out his or her own development without reference to solidarity to others. Anyone who persists in trying to evade solidarity will end up psychologically warped or stunted. Individual religious must always be ready to make sacri-rices, and these sacrifices will definitely make them grow. However, on its part, the community cannot pursue its common good or goals through a systematic policy of sacrificing its members. The development and happiness of individual members carries over into the common good of the group. The concrete solution to this problem is to be sought and found in a sense of communion and real dialogue between the group (its representatives) and the individual. 1.2. Freedom. Isaac Hecker, with fine American sense, wrote that "a great and large freedom of action should be the spirit" of the Paulist community.~1 It is significant that the terms "freedom" and "liberty" occur so frequently in revised constitutions.'2 Of course, individual freedom of choice has always been required for acceptance into community. One was--and is--in community, out of a desire to be in community. But community and obedience were commonly seen from the viewpoint of sacrificing one's individual freedom. In the new type of community there is ample room for individual freedom and initiative. We have referred in passing to the disappearance of the disciplinary type of community that began forming in the 19th century, with its peculiar stresses in reaction to the French Revolution: a type of community dominated by uniformity in dress, in timetables and, in lay communities of women and men, in the kind of ministry practiced. The new constitutions contain few disciplinary regulations. The local community can now, ordinarily, determine its own internal norms and make its own decisions. The number of community acts, which were excessive in many communities founded in the last few centuries, has been reduced to a minimum. Not only religious men, but reli-gious women as well, now have to seek out their own ministerial works, rather than receive them passively from the community. Recently a sister told me: "We ourselves have to create our own jobs and living conditions." Obviously, this kind of freedom has its price. A religious must now make a real effort to maintain communion with his or her own group. Today's community tends to Trends in Religious Life / 4115 be seen in the light of unity in essentials, liberty in what does not affect the common values of religious lifeor the charism and spirit of the institute, and a definite effort at establishing a communion of love. Initially, the downfall of restrictive norms and community acts, together with the broadening field for autonomous, individual decisions, left a good number of religious with the impression that community life had all but disappeared. However, after a period of personal search, religious began to feel the need to return to a more intensely lived form of community, this time based on interpersonal relationships. More spontaneous and creative acts of common prayer began to appear. Nevertheless, there are quite a few men and women religious who have kept their liberty without managing to create com-munion. Of course, many religious live in community, in the sense that they come home to sleep under the same roof, share meals together and treat each other with respect. But the number of religious who are living alone, when they could be living in community, is somewhat notable. The fact that more women than men are living alone may be traced to a number of factors. For one thing, the number of men whose work is tied to institutions (parishes, schools, retreat houses) is proportionately greater. Moreover, women religious may have a greater psychological need for living alone. In the past, women's communities were far more restrictive than men's, and thus the reaction of the former has been that much stronger. Besides this, as we shall see in more detail later, all women, and religious women in particular, are struggling to emerge as persons, against the restrictions still imposed on them by the ecclesiastical community. 1.3. Pluralism in Community. This brings us to the subject of pluralism, which was so warmly debated in not a few chapters of renewal. In the past, there was a strong tendency toward uniformity. Everyone studied the same theology and followed the same methods of prayer. Each institute had a uniform theological or spiritual language. Today the great variety of theological positions in the Church is reflected within religious families, and often within the same reli-gious house. This affects the way we view the religious life and its objectives, and these different views are translated into different life-styles. Pluralism can immensely enrich our communities, provided it does not jeopardize essentials, thus weakening or undermining spiritual cohesion. But pluralism has now reached a transitional phase in which it can give rise to considerable suffering. Those who are inclined toward a more traditional type of life, to a distinctive habit, or to a more devotional form of piety, may suffer and feel lost among others who are leading a different type of life. Those who are inclined to a more personal life-style, with a more modem sensibility, often feel that they are the object of suspicion and insinuations. Theological plural-ism, above all for initiates, can cause acute moral suffering. We may some-times be offered an image of Christ, or a paradigm for relationships with Christ, that wounds our feelings. We might do well to recall that pluralism in freedom caused serious prob-lems for the tiny ecclesial communities of Paul, both on the theological level 41~6 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 (the role of the Law) and on the practical level (eating food offered to idols). Paul's recommendation was that all should practice a delicate charity toward one another. Those who felt more restricted should respect the conscience of others, while those who felt more free in these matters should exercise their freedom without inflicting unnecessary wounds on those of a different persua-sion. "Each of you should regard, not your own interests, but the other per-son's" (I Co 10:24). There are religious who worry too much about what others are saying or doing. And there are religious who speak and act without regard for the sufferings they may be causing others. After all, what good will our theology or our achievement of practical freedom do us ifthey are done without love? 1.4. Personal Ministries. In the past, congregations with the most priests prac-ticed two different types of ministries: one, institutional, in which the religious collaborated in a common work (schools, retreat houses, parishes), the other, personal (teaching in centers outside the institute, preaching, conferences, books). Lay communities of men or women were limited to working within their own institutions (hospitals, schools). In many women's communities and in some brothers' institutes, there is now a trend favoring personal ministries: counseling, spiritual direction and giving conferences. This has fundamentally modified the type of community life led in these institutes. We read also, for example, that the Franciscan Province of Santa Barbara has adopted, as a criterion of priority in assignments to ministries, the talents and availability of individual members, rather than the needs of existing institutions.13 This trend can be noted with lesser force in institutes that have a greater number of institutions (schools, parishes, hospitals). 1.5. Emphasis on Local Community. Partly because of this affirmation of the centrality of the person in societies and institutions, and partly because of the current stress on the Church as a communion that is realized above all in the local church, greater importance is being attached to the local religious com-munity. Many constitutions have changed the vertical presentation of their governmental structures from the once-common descending order (general government, provinces, local communities) to an ascending order (local, pro-vincial, general),~4 while even more constitutions affirm the primary value of the local community. In contrast with the mainly disciplinary content of former texts, the new ones bring out the theological and ecclesial meaning of the local community as a community of faith, worship and mission, and as the privileged locus of Christian communion.~5 1.6. Small Communities. Starting very soon after the Council, there was a growing emphasis on a trend that had already appeared in religious institutes founded a few decades earlier: the formation of small local communities with a family-like structure. Large communities that staffed various institutions (schools or parishes), or were at the service of some large institution (a univer-sity), began dividing up into small groups. Many factors motivated this shift: a Trends in Religious Life / 4117 desire to establish closer interpersonal relationships, an attempt to lessen the difficulties inherent in large-group interaction, a tendency to live closer to the people, and an endeavor to free the group from quasi-monastic structures. Paul VI dealt with this trend in his apostolic exhortation, Evangelica Testif!- catio,~6 noting that this type of community makes greater demands of its members. For one thing, in this setting the individual constantly emerges in face-to-face relationships that strongly reveal his or her good points and short-comings. Small communities demand better communication, greater respect for individual differences, and a more thoroughgoing effort to adapt oneself to others. In large communities it is easier to avoid communication and, above all, confrontation with certain community members. Interestingly enough, it is not just older persons accustomed to a more institutionalized type of life, but also younger religious less inclined to intimate communication, who prefer to live in larger groups. 1.7. Authority and Obedience. The Second Vatican Council, in its decree Perfectae Caritatis,17 clearly established principles for a deep renewal of the practice of authority and obedience as we had heretofore known it. Doubtless, the concepts expressed in this decree belong to the tradition of the religious life in its richest moments. Nevertheless, the emphasis on certain aspects of this tradition, such as "active collaboration," the service rendered by the commu-nity leader, the recommendation that the leader respect his or her fellow religious as sons or daughters of God and as human persons, the insistence on dialogue as an integral part of the unifying process of obedience (and not just as a last resort in facing difficult decisions)--all of these paved the way for a theological and practical reinterpretation of the leader's role, and of the nature of common obedience.~8 Even those institutes that have not modified their vertical structures of government have had to reread their constitutions with a new sensitivity.~9 The Council stated that the manner of governing religious institutes had to be examined and brought into harmony with the physical and psychological conditions of today's religious, with the needs of the apostolate, with cultural requirements, and with socioeconomic realities.20 The great majority of the revised constitutions of institutes founded in an age when another image of authority prevailed, have modified their systems of govern-ment by introducing dialogue prior to decision making, or have even left certain decisions to the group itself. Some constitutions have made the group the ordinary decision-making body in matters important to the local commu-nity. In Practice, there has also been a tendency to allow a wide margin for individual decisions and initiatives in matters that do not touch upon the life of the group. 2. The Emancipation of Women Closely related to the preceding theme (the value of the person as such), another trend has had a growing impact on religious life: the progressive 41111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 emergence of the religious woman, and her assumption of a public mission in the Church and in civil society. We are touching here on a painful topic: the struggle of women (and the Holy Spirit with them) to liberate themselves from a situation of confinement and subordination. No need to go into the details of Mary Ward's way of the cross, or the fate of the Ursulines after the death of Angela Merici, or the changes forced upon the Order of the Visitation, or the tremendous difficulties that Louise de Marillac and her Daughters of Charity had to face. As late as the 19th century, especially in France, every women's institute was forced to have a male ecclesiastical superior with powers equal and sometimes superior to those of the mother general. Some institutes were arbitrarily divided, and some foundresses were practically expelled from their own communities (Clara Pfaender, Bonifacia Rodriguez, Maria Rosa Zangara), or deposed (Jeanne de Lestonnac, Alix Le Clercq, Alfonsa Cavin, Rafaela of the Sacred Heart). Fortunately, circumstances have changed radi-cally and will continue to do so, as we shall see. 2.1. Emancipation. A large number of religious women are more or less fully committed to the feminist movement, and still more are deeply affected by it.2~ In the past every religious woman, upon reaching maturity, had to bring her femininity to bear on her milieu so to speak implicitly, by letting it shine through in her life and work (think of Teresa's influence on her theologian friends, or the changes Jeanne de Chantal brought about in Francois de Sales). Nowadays, however, the condition of women is explicitly posited and vindi-cated. In affirming their identity, religious women are bringing a new dimen-sion into spirituality and religious life in general: the feminine perspective?2 They not only are setting up a feminine symbology to counterbalance the overstated male symbology of religion (a function always at work in women like Clare of Assisi, Catherine of Siena, Teresa of Jesus and Margaret Mary Alacoque), but are also discovering the feminine aspects of God (something rarely done in the past, although one can always point to the example of Dame Julian of Norwich). The arrival of large numbers of women in the once segregated halls of theology is bound to give rise to deep changes in the task of interpreting the experience of God. The theology of the religious life will surely have to take much more serious note of this phenomenon. 2.2. The Revision of Constitutions. Today, religious women are revising their own constitutions, sometimes with the help of outside experts, both men and women. We are getting farther and farther away from the days when men could write rules for women (Pachomius, perhaps Augustine, Caesarius of Arles, Leander), or when women had to adopt and adapt rules written for men's communities (Benedictines). There is an exquisitely feminine style and sensibility in not a few of the new constitutions. 2.3. Personal Ministries. With growing frequency, women are taking on per-sonal ministries not connected with their own institutions. They are teaching in outside centers, writing books, doing spiritual direction, directing retreats and Trends in Religious Life / 489 spiritual exercises, counseling, ministering in parishes, and so forth. Their influence is beginning to be strongly felt in male formation communities, by the balance they bring to young men who receive their information in an otherwise strictly masculine environment. This gives these men a more positive and educative,perception of the feminine image. 2.4. The First Apostolic Community. In our judgment, the women religious of North America have built the first fully apostolic feminine community in history. Many of them live in small groups not bound to institutions, and are dedicated to personal ministries. While men religious are frequently tied down to an ecclesiastical institution (parish, college), women religious, by the very fact of being non-ordained ministers, enjoy a greater freedom of movement. 2.5. Economic Dependence. This freedom is very relative, however, because many women religious are faced with the anguishing problem of economic dependence. Adding to the painfulness of this situation is the fact that the work they do is usually underpaid. Moreover, those women who do not have their own institutions must either depend on other institutions, or else become free-lancers at the mercy of fortune. A few.years ago, one mother general told me that her institute was unable to implement an option for the poor and the marginated because they depended for their sustenance on the salaries they received from the diocese, which did not allow enough for it. 3. Life Over Institutions Another clearly perceptible trend in today's religious life seems to be a distinct prevalence of a concept and an experience of a life lived simply, freely and creatively, over against more institutional forms of living. Significantly, the first schema on religious life submitted to the Second Vatican Council was overloaded with canonical-institutional vocabulary, reflected in its title: status religiosus--the religious state. It had obviously been drafted by.a group of conservative canonists and theologians. When this text was brought to the floor for discussion, the Council gave it h change of direction and chose to speak of the religious life, understood not as a sort of entity that could be classified and regulated, but as a life that is really lived. This trend is more apparent in Perfectae Caritatis (October, 1965) than in Chapter IV of Lumen Gentium (November, 1964~). But even in Lumen Gentium, the basis stated for both the religious state and form of life are the charisms of the Spirit,23 and the movement leading a Christian to consecrate his or her life to the service of God is described in similar terms.24 Perfectae Caritatis describes various con-crete aspects of this life which must be renewed and adapted to conditions as they really exist. This has been a recurring trend throughout history, especially during peri-ods of creativity. Basil and Macrina created fraternal groups, free of the unwieldiness of the Pachomian institutions that had formed in Egypt. Francis of Assisi was very traditional in his concept of the religious life ("to live 490 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 according to the Gospel"), yet he launched a project of profound renewal by distancing himself from existing monastic institutions. The Dominicans origi-nally followed this same trend. The first Jesuits and the Daughters of Charity, each in their own way, were simply Christian companions committed to serv-ice. A few decades ago, the Little Brothers and Sisters of Jesus returned to this simplicity, to a lived life and to creativity. The phenomenon we have been describing is now appearing under various forms. 3.1. The Fall of Structure. In most communities many structures have disap-peared. The 19th century left us a legacy of methods and detailed regulations for prayer, for the organization of our day, for work, etc. In Europe,.a number of founders went so far as to include a basic menu in their constitutions. As the monks of Solesmes had striven to unify liturgical rubrics against a welter of national liturgies, religious superiors strove to unify religious life with regula-tions and timetables. In today's ~onstitutions and community discussions, the emphasis is on the quality of life. Religious are concerned about the extent to which their real life constitutes a witness, now that neither uniform habits nor characteristic buildings nor special timetables distinguish them from the rest of the citizenry. Religious tend to "value more the influence of their life attitudes and personal witness than they do the impact of service to an institution.'~5 To put it another way, there is a sort of diffuse Franciscanism in our times, representing a desire to connect with the original and fundamental sense of the religious life: a life-style that is significant in itself. 3.2. Prayer. This same trend can be felt in the prayer life of religious. In the not-too-distant past, communities imposed numerous acts of community prayer, many of them devotional in character. Even personal meditation and spiritual reading were made into community acts. Some quite detailed methods of meditation were very popular. Apostolic communities have largely done away with these numerous community acts and have returned mental prayer to the responsibility and initiative of the individual. Initially, more than a few religious felt left in the lurch by all of this, so that one often heard the complaint, "We aren't praying anymore!" Others, on the contrary, looked upon the new approach as a license to improvise, and began to forget the lessons of the spiritual masters, lessons that were themselves the fruit of pro-longed experience. We believe that this situation has been largely corrected. Left in greater liberty, religious themselves have had to face up to their respon-sibility. But even here, some exaggerations exist. One sometimes gets the impression that some people regard prayer as a strictly private responsibility, despite the fact that constitutions clearly represent it as an essential life-trait for all members of the institute. Our prayer-life is a commitment we make to the community, and other members of the community have every right to be concerned when we give the impression that we are failing in prayer. 3.3. A New Understanding of Law. Another commonly observable trend is the new way in which the revised constitutions and rules of life are presented. A Trends in Religious Life / 491 little background may clarify this trend. In many texts submitted to the Holy See by 19th-century founders and foundresses, there was an overload of asceti-cal exhortations and a dearth of canonical structures. In reaction to this, the Roman Curia, around the turn of the century, issued its Normae secundum quas, excluding all these ascetical passages and adding the necessary structural sections.26 This had the unfortunate effect of reducing most constitutions to the bare bones of a canonical and disciplinary text, containing an abundance of precise norms on how to do things, on the practice of mortification, and on rules for cloister and silence. We were left with a code of precepts. In the new constitutions and rules of life, few norms remain, and those that do are canon-ical, almost to the exclusion of those of a purely disciplinary nature. In con-trast, these new texts give us a description of the vocation and spirit of the religious who belong to each institute. We have passed, so to speak, from a "decalogue" code of observances to a "beatitudes" rule of life; from a minimum we must observe, to a maximum toward which we must strive. Instead of observance, we now tend to speak of growing fidelity. Saint Thomas observed long ago that the twofold gospel precept of love (with all one's heart) is not something we fulfill here and now in an instant, but is rather a goal toward which we must constantly strive and tend. This is the evangelical vision to which the new rules of life invite us. Hence, for all their dearth of precepts, these new rules are on the whole more demanding. 3.4. Individual and Community Discernment. The greater freedom allotted to individuals and to local communities, the reinterpretation of the fundamental law as a description of vocation and spirit, and the relative absence of discipli-nary norms have all placed a greater burden of responsibility on local com-munities and their members. Local communities must frequently assume the role of discerning what is here and now God's salvific will for the group and its members. In this respect, the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus has set a good example for us all. Speaking of the mission of the Jesuits today, the Congregation stated: "We must undertake a thoroughgoing assess-ment of our traditional apostolic methods, attitudes and institutions with a view to adapting them to the new needs of the times and to a world of rapid change. All this demands that we practice discernment, that spiritual discern-ment which Saint Ignatius teaches us in the Exercises. Moreover, discerning will yield a deeper grasp of the movements, aspirations and struggles in the hearts of our contemporaries."27 A little later, the decree restates the same idea: "What is required is not so much a research program as a process of reflection and evaluation inspired by the Ignatian tradition of spiritual discernment."~s The Ignatian practice of spiritual discernment, once largely restricted to circles of the Society of Jesus, has now become generalized to the point that it is present in all schools of spirituality. Recent bibliography abundantly bears out this development,~9 and we should all be glad of it. 3.5. A Blurred Image of Church. As we round out this section, we can hardly 492 Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 avoid mentioning one painful fact: the disinterest or distaste that some reli-gious feel toward the ecclesiastical institution. Francis of Assisi, who was called to rebuild God's tottering house, was distinguished from other leaders of poverty movements in his day by his fidelity to the Church's leaders.3° Saint Ignatius Loyola, another great religious reformer, recommended that we "feel with the hierarchical Church.TM Today, although most religious are strongly attracted to the Church as communion and mystery, a number of them tend to experience the Church institution as something alienating. The fact is that the image of the Church projected by Leo XIII, Pius X1 and Pius XI1 has largely disappeared, and new images are struggling to emerge. There is a significant amount of writing on various "models of the Church."32 We all know that institutions, in this earthly phase of things, are as necessary for the Church's presence and action as the body is for the self's. We must of course take care of the body and control it, since here, too, an overly heavy body can impede the action of the individual spirit. 4. Ministerial Openness to the World Another group of factors that seems to constitute a characteristic trend in today's religious life is the positive reevaluation of the world and of the reli-gious life as service to the Church and the world.33 Isaac Hecker introduced a typically American sensibility into spirituality by underscoring the positive character of the encounter of grace with our humanity, and by consistently speaking of this encounter in positive terms.3a The classic synthesis of Thomas Aquinas began to reappear with new accents. In the United States today, there are many spiritualities which evaluate the created world positively, and asso-ciate spiritual progress with overall progress (holiness/wholeness). In Europe, Louvain accustomed us to a theology of earthly values.35 In France, where great stress had always been laid on the Incarnation, a high value was placed on Christian presence among the masses (the priest-worker movement). Vati-can II, above all in Gaudium et Spes, gave us a realistic vision of the world that was rich in positive traits. John XXIII's Pacem in Terris decidedly opted for democratic social values. All of this has had its impact on the life of the Church. Secular Institutes are precisely secular institutions that aim at enliven-ing the human and civil "world" from within. The charisms of the religious life are now spoken of, not as gifts to help us flee from the world, but rather as gifts that enable us to penetrate the world more deeply, in order to transcend it. We no longer speak of afuga mundi, but rather of a penetration of the world, in order to induce it to return to its Creator, and transcend itself. Thomas Merton personified this "return to the world" movement in almost paradigmatic fashion. His early works, written at a time when he regarded the Abbey of Gethsemani as "the only real city in America,"36 reflect the critical reactions of a convert, as well as a somewhat elitist monastic theology. In Seeds of Contemplation (1949), the theme of a holy person's positive outlook on the world alternates with a negative view of the secular city from which the Trends in Religious Life / 493 Christian must strive to escape.37 In The Inner Experience (1959), his attitude toward contemplatives is more realistic, and the possibility of a lived expe-rience of God in the world emerges more clearly,as One can notice an effort to situate contemplation in the living context of everyday life. Contemplation means an indepth look at reality not in order to evade it, but in order to transcend it;39 it supposes a reading of events.4° The new chapter, "Solitude is Not Separation," added to New Seeds of Contemplation,4~ reveals at last a total contemplative openness to the world. Thomas Merton would soon become a prophet of peace and justice. The contemplative--as Teresa of Jesus had experienced long before Merton--is someone who brings the world, its agonies and its ecstasies, before God.42 This phenomenon has occurred frequently in the course 0~" history. We might, in fact, speak of a phasic alternation between periods of Incarnation and periods of Transcendence, although we should add that each swing toward the Incarnational pole has left us definitively closer to the world. The 12th century witnessed a cultural rebirth in which "nature" began to lose its sacral, symbolic value and gained some measure of autonomy.43 The married laity ceased being referred to as "children and weaklings who simply cannot embrace celibacy" (an oft-repeated phrase in earlier ecclesiastical texts),4~ and were instead spoken of as persons who profess the "common rule," that is, the Gospel. The Third Orders of the 13th century owe their existence, in part, to this change of mentality. In an early Franciscan legend, Madonna Povert~ (Lady Poverty) asks a group of Friars to show her their cloister. They lead her to the top of a high hill and show her the whole world, telling her: "This, Lady, is our cloister.-45 Then came what we generally call "the Renaissance," and we fell in love with the philosophers, writers and heroes of the Greco-Roman world. A positive and overly innocent view of the world infiltrated our con-sciousness. Jesuits made their residence in the midst of cities. More than a few institutes of the time chose not to take vows (Oratorians and Eudists). The Daughters of Charity dispers+d through the streets in peasant garb; for them, the world was the space in which the sons and daughters of God were suffer-ing. But there was also Luther's teaching on our "corrupted nature," and Bishop Jansenius and the Port Royalists held the dark view that every human value not explicitly elevated by a supernatural intention is simply sinful. Jansenism, with its excessive moral demands, had a baneful influence on the spirituality of religious. Finally, the trauma of the French and socialist revolu-tions filled religious leaders with fears and misapprehensions, so that they tended to stress the deep incompatibility between the Church and modern society. We were in urgent need of a return to the world. 4.1. A More Positive Vision of the World. For religious, too, the world is the ager dominicus, the Lord's field. It is the creation wounded by our sins, yet fundamentally good; the place where we must live our faith, hope and love, and in which we must work and suffer. This more positive, yet realistic vision of the world has positive consequences and gives rise to its own problematic. 494 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 The distance between the religious and secular worlds has been shortened. The barriers of habits, special buildings and institutions filled with religious sym-bols, have largely fallen. This explains a number of recent developments. In the past, new forms of religious life inexorably fell under the influence of forms that had a longer and more prestigious history: Pachomians and Basilians became monks; canons regular and mendicants adopted a monastic or quasi-monastic way of life; apostolic congregations of women imitated cloistered nuns, etc. In our times, the trend seems to be running in the opposite direction: the traditional forms of religious life are getting closer to the life-style of secular institutes. We are referring here not merely to the absence of habits or the irrelevance of details that were once considered very important in Europe (such as not being allowed to enter a movie-picture theater), but to such truly important items as the near absence of community life or its reduction to a minimum, and to the growing trend toward working in secular institutions. The fact remains, however, that religious life, precisely because its witness is aimed at helping the world transcend itself, must not only incarnate itself in secular culture, but also act as a counterculture.46 Religious life accomplishes this essentially by actualizing the charisms that distinguish it as a form of Christian life: celibacy and community, with a public witness of poverty. Note that we say celibacy, not bachelorhood or the single state, since celibacy is understood as an exclusive commitment to the concerns of the Lord, and as a life lived for the love of the Lord. And this is extremely demanding. So also is the radical self-divestment which characterizes the Christian poverty of a reli-gious: a self-divestment that makes no sense at all except as an act of solidarity with the poor and the outcast. All of this must be reflected in our life-style, attitudes and options. 4.2. An Open Community. Our communities have opened up. The practice of hospitality has been greatly enlarged. Religious are praying and working with groups outside the community proper, thus creating a network of relation-ships. Many of us belong to prayer groups (charismatic or otherwise) or to pastoral teams.47 Monastery guesthouses, especially in the United States, are usually filled with other religious and laypersons who come there to pray. Some contemplative monasteries have opened up to share their prayer life with others on a more permanent basis. The Trappists of Our Lady of Guadalupe have established a Center for Contemplative Studies. The Carmel of the Resurrection in Indianapolis has opened its prayer life to a group of the faithful who pray there. Many small apostolic communities practice an aposto-late of presence by living among the poor. This is something that the mendi-cants strove to do in the 13th century, and which the Little Brothers and Sisters of Jesus reintroduced some decades ago. Obviously, such groups have to manage the difficult task of balancing their openness toward the rest of the Church with the special communion of charism and spirit they must keep among their own members. Trends in Religious Life / 495 4.3. Celibacy and Friendship. One effect of this more optimistic vision of the world and of the human person in the world has been the rediscovery of the positive and fully human vision of celibacy expressed in the New Testament. Although Jesus, in his logion about eunuchs (Mt 19:12), was defending a spiritual impotence caused by a strong commitment to the Kingdom, Paul tells us, .in a positive way, that being celibate for the sake of the Gospel consists in living lives exclusively dedicated to the concerns of the risen Lord (his Church, his poor), and for his love (1 Co 7:32-34). Celibacy is both a commitment and a relationship of love in which we can grow, and not simply a state defined by non-bonding to another person in matrimony,as The focus of today's religious has shifted, significantly, from chastity to celibacy as a way of life. From yet another point of view, the modern notion of the human being has highlighted (sometimes excessively) our sexual condition. Sexuality is rightly understood as a positive reality,49 in which affective balance plays an important part. Thus conceived, sexuality is being incorporated into a positive and inclusive vision of celibacy. It might be noted, in passing, that religious, like others in this rich culture which is concerned with overeating, also engage in sports and look after their body and physical appearance. But it must be admitted ihat the fall of barriers in this context (locked doors, permissions to go out, opened mail, the habit, etc.) also eliminated a series of social pressures aimed at protecting celibacy. Just as the permanence of marriages is now left to married couples themselves (since urban and indus-trialized society, unlike rural societies of the past, undermines rather than upholds the stability of marriage), so celibacy is left to the grace of God and the responsibility of the individual. The community can offer little help to those in crisis, except prayer and friendship. A positive evaluation of friend-ship has important consequences in this area. The husband-wife relationship is beginning to pale as the only model for male-female relationships. Friendships between religious and persons of the opposite sex (whether priests, religious or laity) are now more feasible and frequentP° This is, of course, not something completely new: a good number of saints, especially founders and foundresses, seem to have come in pairs. But now there is a greater awareness of the implications and values of friendship as a help toward celibate balance, which it indeed can be. But this is still fragile ground, because of the possibility of being "carried away," and because the word "friendship" often covers a number of relationships of diverse intensityPI The celibate is committed to live exclusively for the concerns of the Lord and for his love, and this rules out not just physical relationships, but also exclusive affective commitments. This means that certain affecfive needs of the celibate cannot be satisfied directly, but must be diverted into channels of loving service. 4.4. The Poor: the New "Desert. ,~2 Religious feel a lively interest and concern for the world of which they are part. This is quite apparent in questions of justice. In a host of ways, religious have been associated with works of charity 498 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 throughout history. But today there is a clearer consciousness that not a few evils have social roots, and that religious in a democratic society have a great opportunity to work collectively and individually in defense of the weak and the oppressed. Most of us (even religious dedicated to social works) inherited a vision of poverty that did not have much of an express or lived relationship to the poor of the world. It was a poverty fit for a neoplatonic or neopythagorean community: a poverty understood as a form of personal purification and as a means for arriving more readily at contemplation. The important thing was dependence on the superior, and great individual austerity. On an analogy with the Synoptic saying of Jesus, "Sell what you have and give to the poor" (Mk 10:21 and par.), one might say that the monks of the desert, who worked hard to support the poor, fulfilled the second part of the saying ("and give to the poor"), whereas later religious stressed the first part ("sell what you have"). In Evangelica Testificatio, Paul V1 brought the Church's teaching on religious poverty back to its origins by beginning the section on poverty with a call to hear "the cry of the poor.'~3 If all Christian poverty is a descent with Christ into the hell of human suffering--a participation in his kenosis (cf. 2 Co 8:9)54--then the testimonial poverty of religious should signal an abandonment of the world's logic and a crossing over its borders into the new desert which, especially in today's materialistic society, is constituted by the poor. A number of religious have abandoned their houses in middle-class neigh-borhoods and have gone to live with the poor in ghettoes. Whole institutes have declared in their chapters a preferential option for evangelizing the poor. Religious men and women have joined other Christians in their struggle for the liberation of the poor, especially in Latin America and the Philippines. In the United States, some religious have run for national or state office in defense of minorities, while others have been appointed to posts of particular social significance. Many U.S. religious are committed to a variety of social causes: disarmament, human rights in the Third World, the fights of the unborn, the rights of homosexuals, ecology, the struggle against a capitalism that would sacrifice human lives for economic gain (the Nestle boycott), and so forth. Here again, there are problems and difficulties. For one thing, it is easier for those living in well-to-do environments to protest abuses (as they must) than it is to protect themselves against the contagion of a consumerist society. Those who are truly and deeply committed to the defense of the poor know that they can carry out their work only by becoming poor themselves. Our poverty is also a protest against a materialistic interpretation of life, and hence must be manifested in personal and collective simplicity and austerity. Those who personally commit themselves to poverty run the risk of mere improvisa-tion, or of being manipulated by others. One thinks of the way certain reac-tionary thinkers have tried to use Mother Teresa of Calcutta, proposing her as an example of what all religious should be doing--which they interpret as "athering up the dying from the sidewalks (which is undoubtedly a heroically ~eautiful act of Christian love), and then leaving the world to the powers that Trends in Religious L~fe / 497 be (which would undoubtedly be an act of unChristian cowardice, since the one behind the "powers that be" is often Satan, the first murderer). Manipulation, though, is also practiced from a revolutionary viewpoint. There is a danger of becoming involved in partisan politics that pursue a determined type of society. The religious and the Christian as such do not have a distinctive political model, but only a set of fundamental principles (Pacem in Terris), according to which they raise their voice in protest against all forms that oppress and manipulate the sons and daughters of God. Great maturity is requi~ed for a commitment of this kind. One must be prepared to lose one's life: witness the example of our martyrs in Central America. 4.5. Serving in a Secular Milieu. With growing frequency, religious men and Women are making a commitment in various types of human service that are not specifically religious in nature, and are performed in a secular environ-ment. We are r~ferring here mainly to those religious who are engaged in the investigation and teaching of profane disciplines. Religious have been doing this for centuries, of course, but as an integral part of a ministry of Christian edui:ation that was meafit to culmin~ite in catechesis. Now, we encounter a new element in that these services are being carried on in the heart of secular centers. The impact of this environment and the great demand for professional preparation it calls for can profoundly affect the spirit of a religious. This is perhaps most true of religious who practice psychotherapy in its various forms. Here,/he "secular environment" is internal. The religious has to operate with a series Of symbols, vocabularies and techniques in which religious experience is often treated either in the Context of psychological aberration, or else (as with .lung) in that of a psychic activity that neither includes nor excludes grace. Helping one's neighbors in their psychological problems, or contributing to their overall growth as persons, is just as religious an activity as helping cure their bodies, but it can create difficulties for religious therapists. Oftentimes they are living in an environment quite different from a traditional religious community, which was pervaded by religious symbols and community acts. In such cases, religious will often have to struggle in order to integrate their professional service into the framework Of their community's proper spiritual-ity. Service also tends to change meaning for religious who work as medical or nursing personnel in modern hospitals, with their intense activity and the difficulties they present for establishing personal relationships with the sick, since there are so many to attend, and the turnover is so rapid. 5. Religious Life Reinterpreted 5.1. A More Profound Notion of the Religious Ltfe. The Second Vatican Council, by setting its teaching on the religious life squarely in the context of the life of the Church and of the universal call to holiness, forced theologians to rethink this particular vocation. A significant index of this rethinking is reflected in a change in the bibliography on the religious life. During the first half of this century, it focused on canon law and ascetical conferences or 49~1 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 retreats for religious; from the Council onwards, bibliographical entries of a theological character began to multiply. New Testament exegesis began to put question marks after the texts on which some founders had based their move-ments. Often enough, disturbingly, exegetes answered these questions in the negative: "This is not what these biblical texts were saying." Moreover, the full incorporation of the secular laity into the life and holiness of the Church obliged us to rethink the relationship that exists between the call to the reli-gious life and the general call to perfection, as well as that which exists between religious life and secular life. In more than one case, the Council had felt obliged to use categories drawn from Scholasticism, in a clear effort at expanding its teaching. Concomitantly, however, scholars were at work compiling critical studies of the sources of the religious life (Pachomius, Basil, Augustine, the anonymous author of the Regula MagistrL Benedict, Francis, early Jesuit texts, etc.). These historical investigations have given us a much better knowledge of the development of the religious life. The works of Tillard, Boff, Sebastian, Moloney and others, as well as the publications of the Religious Life Institutes in Rome and Madrid, and those of the Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality (to all three of Which I have made my personal contribution), are developing a work of synthesis that has become necessary. 5.2. Religious Life: a Parable of Discipleship. In Lumen Gentium and Perfec-tae Caritatis, the Second Vatican Council abandoned the notion of "state of perfection," which had somehow crept into Sacrosanctum Concilium (the Constitution on the Liturgy), written in the period before the council began to reflect expressly on the religious life.55 All Christians are committed to growth in the perfection to which they are called in baptism, confirmation, the Eucha-rist and reconciliation, and (for some) eventually in matrimony. The religious life is no longer to be thought of as the only state in which one professes to be tending toward perfection. In Discipleship: Towards an Understanding of the Religious Life, I tried to demonstrate how religious life is a form of disciple-ship, and that the significance of the religious life consists in its being a living parable of the Gospel for all. As a form of life, the religious life is summoned to remind all Christ's disciples of the demand to follow him. It is a type of prophetic life, neither more nor less. This leaves room for secular Christians to achieve the full stature of their incorporation into evangelical spirituality. For the important thing is not the parable, but the lived life of the Christian way, to which the parable points. 5.3. Return to Charism. Another important aspect of contemporary religious life is the fact that, thanks mainly to the invitation of Perfectae Caritatis, religious institutes, especially in their chapters of renewal, have set about reflecting on their own charisms. These institutes now seem to have a far better knowledge of their vocation and spirit in the Church. The Church itself is enriched by this variety of charisms. The popes have frequently referred to this Trends in Religious L~fe / 499 theme in discussing the identity of religious families. 5.4. Turning Toward Others. Nevertheless, something new is happening. A few years back, religious institutes often gave the impression of being overly exclu-sive in promoting their own interests. There was too much insistence on "our own." Today, religious communities collaborate with one another in common novitiate programs. There are theologates (the Central Theological Union in Chicago and the General Theological Union in Berkeley are obvious exam-ples) in which students from various institutes study, pray together and inter-relate in many ways, thus mutually enriching one another without losing their identity. And there are numerous religious institutes collaborating in apostolic works, both with one another and with lay team members. The sense of belonging to the one Church of Christ is thus manifested in a forceful manner. 6. Lifelong Commitment One aspect which involves considerable suffering for many religious, and which is brought up with some frequency in public meetings and private conversations, is the meaningfulness of a perpetual commitment to the reli-gious life, and even the legitimacy of norms that impose this sort of commit-ment toward the end of one's initiation or formation. Obviously, the discussion of this theme is less related to the influence of any specific philosophy than it is to the fact that our society seems to be much more sensitive to change than to continuity. In our society, for several different reasons, it is not rare for persons to change careers at a certain age. Even marriage seems to be becom-ing more fragile.~6 6. I. A Personal Commitment. In contradistinction to a one-time or short-term commitment to do some thing, a commitment to a type of life is a personal project that requires a certain amount of time to make. Human beings develop gradually. A promise or decision to be celibate or to live for the love of someone else for just a fewdays or weeks would really be tantamount to a commitment to do some thing, rather than a life decision to be a determined type of man or woman. The commitment to love is, of its very nature, indefi-nite as to time. It tends to be projected over a whole lifetime. The fact is that, when a human being loves or chooses to give himself or herself on a deep level, he or she cannot include the idea of a temporal limit in such a choice (although there may be an implicit recognition of the possibility of failure), since this would be restricting one's love or self-gift. By making a commitment of one-self, a person aims at putting his or her love above time and its changes. 6.2. A Commitment to God. A commitment to the religious life entails a commitment to build one's life with an orientation toward certain religious ideals: living in a particular way, in celibacy and in community. Here, the depth of human commitment is at its greatest, since it is gauged by a relation-ship with God. In this case, understandably, our intention must exclude every temporal limit, even when we are making a temporal commitment. We want 5lll~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 to be this type of Christian and human being on the deepest level, before God and in the Church. This is a quite different kind of commitment than that made by a person who would simply like to be associated with the life, spirituality and ministry of a religious community for a set period of time. One thinks, for example, of the existing practice in Thailand whereby all boys, as a sort of analogue of military service, must spend several months in a Buddhist monastery. This sort of procedure might well be adopted, in a more systematic way, for certain types of associates of Christian religious communities. But this kind of temporal commitment, even when made on a more conscious and voluntary basis, would never suffice to constitute the person making it a religious. Our temporal vows are truly vows, to the extent that the person making them has the intention of orienting his or her whole life in this manner. 6.3. A Statement of Commitment. The real problem here refers to the public formulation of this intention to make a perpetual commitment. To express ourselves publicly and socially is an essential trait of our human nature, which never exists in a vacuum of pure interiority, but tends to unfold itself in explicit relationship with others. We already made our perpetual commitment when we responded to our vocation, before entering a community. We made it with a certain tension, with some misgivings, and sometimes even with anguish; yet we entrusted our weakness to the grace of the God who called us. On profess-ing, we renewed this response to God, but this time we did so publicly, before God and through the community, we committed ourselves to God through this community. Our commitment, then, took on an ecclesial character. This was normal and as it should be because promising to be celibate, to live in evangelical poverty and in community is not just an act that relates us directly to God. Rather, it is an act that relates us to God in his Church. Celibacy is not just the love of God, but also a great love of his sons and daughters. This does not rule out our foreseeing possible failures, or even the hypo-thetical possibility that certain experiences and circumstances might make us change. This commitment is made by human persons, with the understanding that they are expressing their actual intention, in the hope that this intention will perdure. But since fidelity in this matter is the work of grace, we place all our forces in God's hands. A religious vow or promise is at once a manifesta-tion of our intention and a petition for grace: "This is what I intend to be, so help me God." The person who makes a vow can change, can fail, or can discover that this was not to be his or her permanent vocation. There are canonized saints who, after years of profession, left their communities when they discovered that God was calling them along another way. For all these reasons, the Church wisely grants dispensations from these commitments. A dispensation dissolves the canonical aspects of one's commitment, leaving the person with his or her responsibility before God intact. Upon receiving their dispensations, these Christians remain in God's presence, just as they did at the time they believed Trends in Religious Life they had received a call from God and answered it. 7. A Prophetic Minority? The aerial photograph we promised at the beginning of this survey is not yet complete. We still need to include in it one of the most visibly preoccupying concerns for many religious and for the Church's ministers: the scarcity of vocations to the religious life which we are presently experiencing. There is no need for us to go into statistical details. All we have to do is to look at the inexorably upward trend in the median age of the members of most religious communities in the northern hemisphere. We can only suppose that what we are looking at is precisely a lack of vocations (God is calling fewer men and women to the religious life), and not a lack of correspondence to a wider call. We must suppose this, both because we do not have access to the heavenly archives, and because we find it hard to believe that human beings are cur-rently putting up a greater resistance to grace than they did in the days when our houses were filled to the rafters. One fact confirms us in our rejection of an unduly pessimistic view of the present generation: the growing number of vocations to the ministry outside the clergy and outside religious institutes. People continue to cite a whole litany of causes in order to explain the current dearth of candidates for the religious life: economic reasons (greater opportunities exist elsewhere today); social reasons (secularized environment, lowered prestige of the religious state, easier relations among young people of both sexes, sexual liberation, smaller families of the "one girl-one boy" type); psychological reasons (the identity crisis of religious makes religious life less attractive; pessimism or a lost sense of belonging leads religious to work less at promoting vocations); theological reasons (the religious life is not the only state for attaining Christian perfection). We would not like to indulge in a discussion of the many reasons alleged to explain this phenomenon. We would, however, like t.o point out that we are not talking about a scarcity of persons who want to enter a religious community, but about the considerably smaller number of persons who show clear signs of having a true vocation to the religious life. All you have to do is run a few ads in the right publications, and you will soon be swarming with requests. Some of these aspirants very soon reveal data that indicate their unfitness for the religious life. A few more serious cases must be rejected somewhat later, either after psychological testing or afte~ a few days of shared life. Present-day religious life requires stronger and more balanced personalities than was the case in the past. Formerly, less well-balanced personalities could be kept in line by a tougher practice of authority and by the more disciplinary type of community that then prevailed. Permit me to make a few observations. Until two or three decades ago, becoming a priest or a religious was the only route that enabled a Christian to consecrate his or her life to ministry in the Church. Of course, there were many Christians who were dedicated to charitable Works and catechesis on a part- 502 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 time basis. But if they wanted to orient their whole life to one of these minis-tries, they had no recourse but to become priests or religious. The need was even greater in the case of women, since they did not have a choice between secular priesthood and the religious life. Any woman who wanted to commit her life to a ministery of charity or catechesis, had to become a religious. The call to one was automatically interpreted as a call to the other. But today it is possible, though at times difficult, for a Christian to be committed to a minis-try without becoming a priest or a religious. In the past, every time a new form of religious life, better adapted to the conditions of the time, appeared, there tended to be a diminution of candidates for the forms that had prevailed up to that time. Before the 12th century, Europe had numerous monasteries; next, it witnessed the rise of whole armies of mendicants; at length, the mendicants had to share the scene with clerks regular. Also in Europe, until about the middle of the last century, there were cloistered convents in most middle-sized towns. But with the foundation of numerous apostolic congregations for women, the number of cloistered con-vents diminished considerably. Today, secular institutes and other associations of Christian life have appeared on the scene. Moreover, the Church has begun to open up its ministries to laypersons who have no connection with any institution. This must necessarily lead to a reduction in the number of candi-dates for the religious life. Hence, we should not be talking about a lack of vocations in an unquali-fied way, because the Spirit of the Lord is continuing to call Christians of all sorts to a whole gamut of commitments. We should joyfully accept the Spirit's will. It is quite possible--given our inveterate resistance in this respect--that the only way the secular laity will be able to take their rightful place in the Church's ministry will be through a considerable reduction in the number of priests and religious. Hard as some of us may find it to accept these persons on equal terms, despite their manifest charisms and responsibilities, the Spirit of the Lord may oblige us to accept them out of necessity. Does this mean that religious life in its traditional forms is destined in the future, even more than in the present and the past, to become a minority life-style? That is certainly a possibility, although we would not like to hazard such a prediction. Because history has passed through so many ups and downs, turns and returns, visions and revisions, it ill becomes a historian, who has a hard enough task sorting out the vagaries of the past, to presume to know the future. But if things did happen to turn out in the way we have hypothesized, there would be nothing to be surprised at. After all, we have described the religious life as a prophetic calling. And isn't a truly prophetic mission always and essentially a minority calling? Trends in Religious Life NOTES ~Thomas Dubay offers one answer in What is Religious ~fe? Questions Religious are Asking (Denville, N.J.: Dimension Books, 1979), pp. 32-34. See C. Maloney, "Evangelization and Social Change," Religious and the Evangelization of the World, Donum Dei Series, no. 21 (Ottawa: Publications of the Canadian Religious Conference, 1974), p. 63. See also B. Boyce, C.SS.R., "A Sociological Appraisal of the New Trends," New Trends in Religious L~fe, Donum Dei Series, no. 14 (1969), p. 135. 2Thaddre Matura, O.F.M., The Crisis of Religious l_zfe (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1974). 3Karl Rahner, S.J., "Toward a Fundamental Theological Interpretation of Vatican I1,~ Theologi-cal Studies 40 (1979), p. 717. 4John XXIII, Mater et Magistra, AAS 53 (1961), p. 417. Gaudium et Spes, no. 74, Vatican Council I!: The Conciliar and Post Conciliar Documents, ed. Austin Flannery (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1975), p. 981. ~Constitutions S.J., ch. IV, 10, no. 5; Claretian Constitutions (1865), I, no. 31. sViatorians (1979), no. 52; de La Salle (1976), no. 140. I; Precious Blood Sisters, O'Fallon, p. 54; Combonians (1979), no. 103; Christian Brothers, (E. Rice), no. 247. 7Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word, no. 26; Marianists, Rule of l_zfe (1981), no. 39; Stigmatines (1977), no. 17. See especially Sisters of Mercy, Covenant, Fellowship and Total Growth, pp. F 4-5; Combonians, no. 42. 8This idea forms the background for the sections on the vows in many revised constitutions. 9St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q. 184 a 3; q. 188 a 2; St. Bonaventure, Apologia Pauperum, ch. 3, no. 3. See Lumen Gentium, no. 44, Flannery, pp. 403-.404. ~0The theme of varidus personal gifts appears frequently in the new constitutions. See Sisters of St. Joseph, Core Constitutions, no. 38; Combonians, Rule of Life, nos. 38. I, 42; de La Salle (1976), p. 36; B.V.M., no. 3; Marists (1968), no. 51; Stigmatines (1977), no. 17; St. Joseph of Peace (1981), p. 6; Ursulines of Belleville (1982), no. 33; Sinsinawa Dominicans, no. 10. ~Cited in Paulist Provisional Constitutions (1970), no. 9. ~2Society of the Precious Blood, no. 39; Sisters of Mercy, Core Constitutions, p. 27; 31st Congre-gation of the Society of Jesus, Decree 17, no. 7 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1977), p. 161. ~3Quentin Hakenewerth, S.M., ~lllustrations of Fundamental Choices and Their Consequences," Religious Life Tomorrow, Donum Dei Series, no. 24 (1978), p. 187. ~4Claretians, no. 102 ff.; Piarists, no. 131 ff.: Combonians, no. 105 ft.; School Sisters of Notre Dame, II, no. 8 ff.; Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet, no. 25 ft.; Society of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, no. 138 ff. ~Scalabrinians, no. 10; Society of Mary, no. 34 ff.; Society of the Precious Blood, no. 6 ft. 16No. 40, Flannery, pp. 698-699. 17No. 14, Flannery, pp. 619-620. ~SThe vocabulary of the revised constitutions on this theme, and the very horizons on which they move, reveal a new sensibility. When one compares them to the relevant sections in Petfectae Caritatis, one sees that the latter opened but a single door. A smaller number of constitutions chose to remain within the limits in which the conciliar decree moves. tgSee Jesuits, 31st General Congregation, Decree 17, pp. 157-166. z°Perfectae Caritatis, no. 3, Flannery, p. 613. 2~J. Doyle, B.V.M., "Choose Life," Religious Life Tomorrow, Donum Dei Series, no. 24 (1978), pp. 28-31. ~2See M. Linscott, "The Religious Woman in the Church,~ Way Supplement 19 (1973), pp. 45-62. 23No. 44, Flannery, pp. 402-403. ~lbid., pp. 403-405. Z~Hakenewerlh, art. cit., p. 186. 26"Normae secundum quas S. Congregatio Episcoporum et Regularium procedere solet in approbandis novis lnstitutis votorum simplicium." Published by Ladislaus Ravasi, C.P. in De Regulis et Constitutionibus Religiosorum (Roma: Desclee, 1958), pp. 188 ft. To be excluded 504 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 from the constitutions: quotations from the Holy Scriptures, Councils and Fathers. (n. 27), ascetic instructions, spiritual exhortations, mystical considerations (no. 33). 27Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1979), Decree 4, nos. 58-59, p. 413. 2sPoid., no. 74, p. 436. ~9Scanning the bibliography on discernment during the last 15 years (published by the Religious Formation Conference), I have counted I I articles in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, ! I in Way Sup-plement, 3 in Sisters Today, and 2 each in The Way and Spiritual Ltfe. 30Saint Francis of Assisi, Rule 1221, Foreword and Cho 19; Rule 1223, ch. I; ch. 9; Testament. See Writings and Early Biographies (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1973), pp. 3 I, 46, 57, 63, 67. 3~Saint Ignatius of Loyola, "To have the true sentiment which we ought to have in the Church Militant," Ist Rule. See David L. Fleming, The Spiritual Exercises (Saint Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978), p. 230. 32See Avery Dulles, S.J., Models of the Church (Garden City, NY, Doubleday, 1974). 33Cardinal Suenen's The Nun in the World (Westminster: The Newman Press, 1963), an invita-tion to the renewal of women's religious life issued during the Council, started with a chapter on the world, followed by a chapter on women and their emancipation. The book was highly successful in its time. ~See Martin Kirk, C. M. F., "The Spirituality of Isaac Thomas Hecker: Reconciling the American Character and the Catholic Faith" (doctoral dissertation, Saint Louis University, 1980). 3~See Gustave Thils, Theologie des Realitbs Terrestres (Bruges: Desclre de Brouwer, 1946). An epoch-making book. By the same author: Christian Attitudes (Chicago: Seepper, 1959), 96 pp. 3rThe Secular Journal, April 7, 1941, (New York: Noonday, 1977), p. 183. 37Seeds of Contemplation (Norfolk: New Directions, 1949), pp. 20-23; 60-61. 3gTexts from the Inner Experience published by William H. Shannon, Thomas Merton's Dark Path, The Inner Experience of a Contemplative (New York: Farrar-Straus-Giroux, 1981), pp. 136-141. 3gIbid., p. 131. 4°Ibid., p. 124. a~New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions, 1974), pp. 52-63. 4~Saint Teresa of Jesus, Way of Perfection, 1,2; 3, I; Mansions, Epilogue, 4. 43M.-D. Chenu, O.P., Nature, Man and Society in the Twelfth Century (University of Chicago Press, 1968). 44See John M. Lozano, C.M.F., Discipleship: Towards an Understanding of the Religious Life (Chicago: Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality, 1980), pp. 49-53. *s Sacrum Commercium, no. 63, St. Francis of Assisi: Omnibus of Sources (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1973), p. 1593. 46John F. Kavanaugh, S.J., has given particular attention to this theme in his Following Christ in a Consumer Society (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1981), pp. 131-142. ~TThe Constitutions of the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, in the first chapter, contain this significant text on the new attitude: "Since we participate simultaneously in various communities--the world community, the Christian community, the entire B.V.M. community and the local community--it is the responsibility and privilege of each sister to'contribute to each of these communities according to her gifts and circumstances" (no. 3). ~See Lozano, op. cit., pp. 142-170. ~9Marc Oraison, The Celibate Condition and Sex (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1967). See D. Goergen, The Sexual Celibate (New York: Seabury, 1975); K. Clarke, O.F.M. Cap., An Expe-rience of Celibacy (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Mafia, 1982). ~°Also significant is the number of articles published lately on friendship between religious and persons of the opposite sex they are oriented to. In Sisters Today, M. Neuman, O.S.B., has published two articles (October 1974 and November 1976), and J. Becker has published one (May 1979). In REVIEW FOR RELIGIOrdS. 1 counted four: C. Kiesling (July 1971), T. Dubay (November 1977), B. O'Leary (March 1980) and V. Peter (March-April 1982). There is another by Y. E. Raguin in Way Supplement 19. Trends in Religiou~ Life / 505 s~Some constitutions and complementary statutes now speak positively of the relationship between friendship in general and celibacy: Marianists, Rule ofl_zfe, 11, no. 2.4; Piarists, no. 57; Sisters of Charity of the B.V.M., no. 33; Sinsinawa Dominicans, no. 13; Sisters of Saint Joseph of Lagrange, Working Document (1979), no. 42. Some texts treat of the relationship between celibacy and friendship with Christ: Jesuits, 31st General Congregation, Decree 15, no. 8, p. 152; Combonians, no. 26.1. Or they speak of friendship as the fruit of celibacy: Jesuits, op. cir., pp. 152-153; Brothers of the Christian Schools, 5d. Or they view friendship as a defense of celibacy: Jesuits, ibid. Other texts restrict their remarks to friendships within the community: Stigmatines (1982), no. 15; Holy Cross (men), no. 65; Scalabrinians, no. 80. s2Sce A. Cussianovich, S.D.B., Religious Life and the Poor (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1979). S3Evangelica Testificatio, no. 17, Flannery, p. 688; Sacrosanctum Concilium, nos. 98, 101. ~See Lozano, op. cir., ~Poverty and the Kenosis of Christ,~ pp. 191-192. ~SSacrosanctum Concilium, no. 98, 101 (December 4th, 1963), A. Flannery (pp. 27, 28) translates "religious. ~ ~6On this theme, see T. Matura, O.F.M., op. cit., pp. 72-78. The Religious as Witness The new society of love cannot be built in the future if the quality of love does not change. You are the privileged sign of this new love destined to change the world. Your love, "different" from other loves, is the image of God's love. And so your life, evangelically lived and donated, becomes, through your sincere and pure love for mankind, a convincing witness of the love of the Father who is in heaven. Here is your role in the Church. your most authentic vocation. And it is in this way that you, like Mary who believed in the word and the love of the Lord, contribute to the mission of Jesus to create the new world. And that you may live and give Christ's charity more fully, the Church exhorts you to return to the authentic spirit of the founders, to their intentions and to wholesome traditions.--John Pdul 11, To the Women Religious in Albano, 19 September, 1982. L'Osservatore Romano, 11 October, 1982, p. 5. Constitutions and the Revised Code of Canon Law David F. O'Connor, S.T. Father O'Connor is Chairman of the Department of Church Law at The Washington Theologi-cal Union. He resides at Holy Trinity Mission Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Ave.; Silver Spring, MD 20903. On January 25, 1983, Pope John Paul II promulgated the revised Code of Canon Law, effective as the universal law of the Church for the Latin Rite on November 27, 1983, the First Sunday of Advent. While the revised Code contains nothing startling or surprising in its treatment of the consecrated life, it does bring a needed stability with its clearly stated practical ecclesial expecta-tions concerning post-Vatican II religious life. The canons reassert many of the things stated already by the Fathers of Vatican 11 and in the documents of the post-Conciliar Church. An examination of the canons and their b~i~kground manifests a fidelity to the theology of these ecclesial documents. The 1983 revised Code states in canons 578 and 587 that the constitutions must faithfully express and preserve the mind of the Founder, the spirit and character of the institute, its nature, purposes and wholesome traditions, as part of its patrimony. The constitutions must also contain those fundamental norms required by the Church for the governance of the institute, the discipline of its members, the content of the vows, as well as those norms necessary to express the formation and incorporation of its members and the proper order-ing of the institute. They should fittingly combine both spiritual-ascetical ele-ments with the practical-juridical ones (canon 587 § 3). Once approved, this fundamental code can not be changed without the consent of the proper ecclesiastical authority (canon 587, § 2). Ecclesial Approbation of Religious Institutes and Their Constitutions Through the formal ecclesial approbation .of the constitutions or funda- 506 Constitutions and the Revised Code / 5117 mental book of each institute, the authority of the Church brings into existence the institutes as an ecclesial body or confirms it if it is already established. Constitutions have always been of great importance to institutes because they are particular and specific to each religious family. They help articulate the identity, mission and life-style of the institute and its members. Unfortunately, in the early part of the century this uniqueness was often overshadowed and submerged when constitutions were forced into an excessive conformity with other norms. As a result, there was an inappropriate similarity between many of the constitutions because they were saddled with details, secondary ele-ments, minutiae and multiple regulations which made them all somewhat identical in style and content and overly rigid in form. This was due principally to the Normae of 1901. Consequently, constitutions appeared to be only a verbatim repetition of those norms so that their individuality was lost. This pattern was altered by the Vatican II revisions required by Perfectae caritatis, 3 and 4, and Ecclesiae sanctae, If, 6-11. Fundamentally the revised Code reaffirms the place of religious institutes as progeny of the Church and gifts of the Holy Spirit (canons 575 and 577). In accordance with Lumen gentium, 43, the Code states that it is the authority of the bishops which, recognizing the work of the Spirit, brings into ecclesial existence the various religious institutes (canon 573). It is the right and duty of the pastors of the Church, the bishops, to interpret the evangelical counsels and determine how they are to be practiced and lived by those in the conse-crated life (canon 576). It is this hierarchical recognition which guarantees that the members are living a gospel life which contributes to the building up of the Church (canons 576 and 577). Historically, those groups of pious and well-meaning people who did not receive, or lost ecclesial approbation, often ended up in some form of spiritual aberrancy, schism or heresy, such as the followers of Peter Waldo or the Fraticelli of the middle ages. Today, those religious who are inclined to question the necessity of their affiliation with the pastors of the Church may risk a similar fate. Effect of the Revised Code With the revised Code going into effect, the 1917 Code and all other general or particular disciplinary laws of the Church which are contrary to or treat the same matter as the 1983 Code are abrogated (canon 6, § l) as of November 27, 1983. Therefore, many of the things which were in the 1917 Code no longer are part of the revised Code and are not required to be in the constitutions or the proper law of institutes. For example, nothing is required regarding a period of postulancy, a dowry, or the necessity to have the local Ordinary or his delegate at the election of certain superior generals, as was required in the 1917 Code. This means that institutes will have to determine for themselves whether or not they want to retain some of these things as part of their own law. The retention of some period of"postulancy" may seem to be a prudent and wise one. However, each institute is free to determine this for 508 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 itself. If an institute decides to do so, the matter becomes what canonists refer to as praeter ius, something that is required by the proper law of the institute which goes beyond the requirements of the universal law of the Church. Competency of the Roman Congregations Even though the 1983 Code abrogates all existing disciplinary law when it concerns matters which are treated in the revised Code, this does not imply that the dicasteries of the Apostolic See cease to enjoy a certain authority to make requirements not contained in the universal law. For example, the Sacred Congregation of Religious and Secular Institutes could require some-thing the 1983 Code does not require. In the approval of new constitutions, the SCRSI can require that the essential profession formula of an institute appear in the proper law of that institute. Simply because the universal law does not require this to be done does not imply that it is beyond the competence of SCRSI to do so. Also, the SCRSI certainly retains some competence to make exceptions to requirements of the universal law. Possibly, even though the new Code requires that religious profess vows and not promises (canon 607, § 2), the SCRS1 may be able to grant an exception to a particular institute which can make a good case for retaining a practice which it had during the post- Vatican II period when experimentation was permitted. The Principle of Subsidiarity and the 1983 Code of Canon Law One of the outstanding characteristics of the revised Code is its application of the principle of subsidiarity. As a principle, subsidiarity means that matters should be treated and decisions made at the level which is the most appropriate one. The most appropriate level may not be the lowest one. Whatever level is judged to be the most appropriate will also be the level of responsibility and accountability. The revised Code, therefore, unlike the 1917 Code, very fre-quently states that certain matters are to be determined by proper law. In regard to institutes of the consecrated life, the canons of the Code often state that a specific matter be treated in the constitutions or in the ius pro-prium, the proper law, of the institute. While the proper law will often be, in fact, the secondary or complementary books (Directory, Statutes), the term proper law does not exclude the constitutions or the fundamental book. There-fore, when the canons state that the proper law is to determine the matter, it means that the institute can decide to treat the matter in the constitutions and/or the directory. However, when the canons state that the matter is to be treated in the constitutions, it must be in the constitutions, even though it also may be elaborated upon in the directory. What follows is my paraphrasing of excerpts from the canons of the revised Code from the section on Institutes of the Consecrated Life (Book II, Part III, Section I, Titles I and II, ChaPters 1-6), which require, or leave the option for, complementary legislation in the constitutions or the proper law of-an institute. They are meant to be of aid to those religious institutes which are Constitutions and the Revised Code / 509 preparing their constitutions for submission to ecclesiastical authority for approbation, as well as those institutes which have their constitutions apiaroved already, but may have to make adjustments to bring them into harmony with the revised Code. The reader is advised that these do not attempt to paraphrase the complete canon in every case, but only that part which refers to material which must or may be treated in the constitutions or proper law. Canons Requiring Complementary Legislation in the Constitutions or Proper Law 1. Canons Concerning Norms Common to All Institutes C. 578. The mind of the Founders and their plans, ratified by the competent ecclesiastical authority, about the nature, purpose, spirit and character of the institute and its wholesome traditions, all of which constitute the patrimony of the institute itself, must be observed faithfully. (These are among the things which must be in the constitutions according to c. 587, § 1.) C. 581. The constitutions are to determine the competent authority who may divide the institute into parts, join parts, erect new ones or make other such arrangements. C. 587, § 1. In order to protect more faithfully the particular vocation and identity of the institute, the constitutions or fundamental code of an institute must contain and preserve, besides those things stated in can. 578, the fundamental norms about governance of the institute and the discipline of members, the incorporation and training of members, and the proper object of the sacred bonds. C. 587, § 3. Spiritual and juridical matters are to be suitably joined together; moreover, norms are not to be multiplied unless it is necessary. C. 587, § 4. Other norms established by the competent authority of the insti-tute may be appropriately collected into other books which are to be reviewed and adapted to the needs of times and places. C. 596. The authority of superiors and chapters is to be defined in the consti-tutions as well as by the universal law of the Church. C. 598. The constitutions are to define the manner in which the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience are to be lived in the institute. Members are to live the counsels according to the proper law of the institute. 2. Canons Concerning Religious Houses C. 609, § 1. Religious houses are erected by the competent authority as deter-mined in the constitutions, after having received the consent of the diocesan bishop in writing. C. 613, § 1. A religious house of canonical regulars and monks under the authority and care of its own superior is autonomous, unless the constitutions state otherwise. C. 616, § 1. The suppression of a religious house by the Superior General must ~i10 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 be done according to the constitutions and only after the diocesan bishop has been consulted. 3. Canons Concerning Government in the Institute C. 617. The role of a superior is determined according to the proper law of the institute, as well as the universal law of the Church. C. 622. A superior general has power over the whole institute, its provinces, houses, and members, exercising it according to the proper law of the institute; other superiors have power within the limits of their roles. C. 623. In order that members be validly nominated or elected to the office of superior, it is required that they have a fitting time after perpetual profession in the institute as determined by proper law. For major superiors, it is determined by the constitutions. C. 624, § I. Superiors should be constituted as such for a certain and con-venient period of time according to the ~aature and necessities of the institute, unless the constitutions determine otherwise for the Superior General or superiors of autonomous houses. C. 624, § 2. The proper law of the institute should provide suitable norms so that superiors constituted for a definite period of time do not continue for a long time without an interruption in offices of governance. C. 624, § 3. Nevertheless, superiors can be removed from office during their term or transferred to another office for reasons stated in the proper law of the institute. C. 626. When superiors confer an office or when the members participate in elections, they should observe the norms of the universal law and the proper law of the institute, abstaining from any abuse or acceptance of persons, choosing those who, before God, seem most worthy and suitable, having only God and the good of the institute before them. They must not attempt to procure votes, directly or indirectly, for themselves or for others. C. 627, § 1. According to the norm of the constitutions, superiors should have their own council, whose assistance they ought to use in carrying out the work of their office. C. 627, § 2. Besides the cases prescribed in the universal law, the proper law of the institute should determine those cases in which it is required that they seek their consent or advice for the validity of an action according to canon 127, and any other determination of proper law. C. 628, § I. Superiors who are designated for this purpose by the proper law of the institute should conduct visitations of the houses and members entrusted to them at the times designated according to the norms of the proper law. C. 629. Superiors are to reside in their own houses and not absent themselves from their house unless it is according to the norm of the proper law. C. 63 l, § I. The general chapter, which has supreme authority in the institute according to the norm of the constitutions, should be so formed that, repre-senting the whole institute, it should form a true ~ign of its unity in love, and so forth. Constitutions and the Revised Code C. 631, § 2. The composition and ambit of a chapter's authority must be defined in the constitutions. The proper law of the institute should determine the order to be observed in the conduct of the chapter, especially in regard to elections and procedures. C. 631, § 3. According to the norms of the proper law, not only provinces and local communities, but also any member at all has a fight to send freely his wishes and suggestions to the general chapter. C. 632. The proper law determines accurately those things which pertain to any chapter of the institute and to similar bodies, concerning their nature, authority, composition, mode of proceeding and time of meeting. C. 633, § 1. Organs of participation or consultation (committees and commis-sions) should faithfully carry out their duties according to their mandate and the norms of universal and proper law. In some manner, they should express the care and the participation of all members for the good of the whole institute. C. 633, § 2. In establishing these means of participation and consultation and in wisely adhering to them, discretion should be exercised so that the manner of carrying them out may conform to the nature and end of the institute. C. 634, § I. Institutes, provinces and houses, as juridical persons, have the capacity for acquiring, possessing, administering, and alienating temporal goods, unless this capacity is excluded by or limited by the constitutions. C. 635, § 2. Every institute should have appropriate norms for the use and administration of goods so that its poverty is properly fostered, guarded and expressed. C. 636, § 1. Every institute should have a treasurer, distinct from the superior, according to the norms of proper law who will care for the administration of goods under the direction of the superior. Also, every local community is to have a treasurer (bursar) distinct from the local superior. C. 636, § 2. Proper law should also determine the time and the manner for rendering an account to the competent authority. C. 638, § 1. Proper law, within the limits of universal law, determines when an act exceeds the limits and manner of ordinary administration and when an act of extraordinary administration may be placed. C. 638, § 2. Besides superiors, officials designated for this purpose according to the proper law may validly incur expenses and perform other juridical acts of ordinary administration according to their office. 4. Canons Concerning Admission of Candidates and Members of the Institute C. 641. The right to admit candidates to the novitiate belongs to the major superiors according to norms of proper law. C. 643, § 2. The proper law can place additional impediments or conditions to the valid admission of candidates beyond what is required by the Code. C. 645, § 3. The proper law can require other testimony concerning the suita-bility of the candidate and his freedom from impediments besides what is required by the Code. 512 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 C. 648,§ 2. The constitutions can require time for one or several apostolic experiences outside the novitiate community. However, these are not calcu-lated as part of the twelve months required for the validity of the novitiate. C. 650, § 1. The scope of the novitiate program, under the direction of a novice master, is defined by the proper law of each institute. C. 653, § 2. The novitiate being completed, a novice makes temporary vows or leaves; if there is doubt as to his suitability, he can be given a longer time of probation but not beyond six months. This is done by the major superior according to norms of proper law. C. 655. The time for temporary profession is determined by proper law, but it is not to be less than three nor more than six years. C. 657, § 2. If judged opportune, the period of temporary vows can be extended by the competent superior, according to proper law. But the whole period of temporary vows should not exceed nine years. C. 658. Proper law can also add to the appropriate requirements for the validity of perpetual profession beyond' those stated in this Code. C. 659, § 2. The proper law must define the duration and program of training after first incorporation, being always mindful of the goal and character of the institute, as well as the needs of the religious. 5. Canons Concerning Rights and Obligation~ of Members C. 663, § 3. According to prescriptions of proper law, religious should also celebrate worthily the liturgical hours and other pious exercises. C. 667, § 1. The proper law determines the character and extent of the cloister according to the nature and mission of the institute, always reserving some part of the house solely for religious members. C. 668, § 1. Before first profession, unless the constitutions provide otherwise, the members, animated by the spirit of the gospel, should cede the administra-tion of their temporal goods to whomever they choose, freely disposing of the use and usufruct thereof. C. 668, § 2. With permission of the competent superior, according to norms of proper law, religious may, for a just cause, change the disposition. C. 668, § 3. Pensions, assistance, insurance of whatever kind received by the members are acquired by the institute, unless the proper law states otherwise. C. 668, § 4. With the permission of the superior general, according to the norms of proper law, a member may renounce his goods. C. 668, § 5. If a member does so, anything that comes to him after this belongs to the institute according to the norms of proper law. C. 669, § 1. Religious should wear the habit of the institute, according to the norms of proper law, as a sign of their consecration and witness to poverty. C. 670. The institute ought to supply the members with all that is necessary according to the norms of the constitutions for achieving the end of their vocation. 6. Canons Concerning the Separation of Members from the Institute C. 684, § 4. In the case of the transfer of a professed member to another Constitutions and the Revised Code / 51:3 institute, the proper law of the new institute will determine the time and manner of probation. C. 696, § 2. For the dismissal of a member in temporary vows, even less serious reasons suffice according to the statutes of the proper law. Conclusion While religious institutes are ecclesial bodies subject to the authority of the Church according to the norms of the Code of Canon Law, nevertheless, each institute enjoys a certain autonomy in respect to its own internal life (canon 586). Once the constitutions and the proper law of each institute are approved by ecclesiastical authority,.the institute is expected to go about its internal life without the need for interference from outside agencies. Without doubt, the proper Roman dicasteries have a right, within their competency, to exercise a certain authority and vigilance over institutes of the consecrated life, especially in their relationships to other groups and persons in the Church. However, the particular style of life and the patrimony of each institute will be fostered and safeguarded more surely because of the fact that the revised Code requires (or leaves option for) each institute to determine for itself the specifics of many aspects of its internal life. Over forty canons, in application of the principle of subsidiarity, shift responsibility for the determination of certain matters to the constitutions or proper law of the institute. Therefore, the uniqueness of each religious institute will be made more evident. The rigid conformity, which was the unfortunate consequence of the Normae of 1901 and--to a certain extent--the 1917 Code, will be a thing of the past. The revised Code of Canon Law represents a significant advance in the implementation of the theological understanding which the post-Vatican II Church has of the consecrated life. While no human law is without its limita-t~ ions and deficiencies, the 1983 revised Code should help to foster the devel-opment of a vibrant religious life. Evening Prayer As gently as gravity pulls objects Toward the deepest center of the earth, From my first dawn You exerted this pull. Like a magnet, You attracted me away from other energizing forces And drew me closer and closer in Your magnetic field. Come sunset-- And I hover here, this strong power magnetizing me Even closer within the circle of Your love, The center of Your being Where I belong. Carmelita McKeever, CSJ The College of Saint Rose 432 Western Avenue Albany, NY 12203 Everyone Who Has Left Father and Mother. When a New Missionary Arrives Barry Malone, S.M. Father Malone has set forth his reactions soon after arriving in Lahore from his homeland of New Zealand. Much of this is in the experience of every radical response to Christ. Father Malone teaches at St. Anthony's High School; P.O. Box 61; Lahore, Pakistan. When you get there, you will, of course, experience quite a culture shock. Be prepared for that. It was kind of them to warn me. I had heard already of this "culture shock" and had observed it in others once or twice. Just the process of adaptation--or so I thought. What I am writing now will not, I suppose, be anything like what I will write in six months' time. But, then, part of the experience seems to be being anything but confident about next month, much less about six months' time. Is what I am feeling "culture shock"?. Does the giving of a label to an experience like this help me to own the experience? Or is such a label an aspirin, to help minimize the pain--and maybe even prevent the change that has to take place within me? Culture shock or not, there have been times of joy and excitement as I notice new sights and sounds. There have been moments of wonder and disbelief at finding myself in the midst of Asia and of Islam, in an area steeped in history and saturated with people. But there have been times, too, of being the complete stranger, times of confusion, of disorientation, of fear, of the absence of anything familiar. I can be walking jauntily along the street and be approached by someone: I cannot speak his language, and he cannot speak mine. I can be cycling along 514 Everyone Who Has Left Father and Mother / 515 (guided by my tattered map) only to discover that I'd forgotten I was in the Northern Hemisphere now, and here the midday sun lies to the south--and I am lost yet again. I, so used to school, have to ask my pupils ("Speak very slowly please, boys!") "What is this application? What is checking? What is Basant? Why do you remain standing like that?" I have biked (accidentally) into the middle of a bazaar area, and felt trapped and helpless, until a kind stall-owner had to shift his whole shop to help me squeeze past. Surely you can cope with all that? Yes, but I feel I'm not learning very fast; each confusing event seems to upset me more. The excitement and the novelty of it all has begun to evaporate but the confusion remains. Sometimes just knowing what is going on helps one to accept it all with tranquillity and confidence. But what is going on? What if all that makes sense is the image of the rough and confused underside of a tapestry? But you trust in my guiding hand and the wisdom of my purposes, surely? Surely. But how shallow can such trust be! How glib those remembered phrases from sermons I delivered or counsel I offered. The fragility of an eggshell is not obvious amid the straw of the nest. There seems to be a great desert that lies between the theory of hope, of mission, of pilgrimage, and the reality of this situation, of these people, of this particular phase. Human reasons (and sometimes motives deeper still) are tried: "You're here to replace Father X. He's the ideal person for the important tasks at Y." Of course he is. He would just be marking time here, and his gifts, his many gifts, must be used. But why me? You volunteered and when word came you had months of peace at the very prospect. I had no real idea. Really? Well . You're here to support the others. Fine. They deserve all the support they can get. They've had a rough time of it. But how can 1 support men of such inner strength when I feel the way I do? Anyway, what has been changed by my arrival--except another bread on the paten at Mass each morning, another bowl of soup on the table each evening and, for a few weeks, the laughter at my small repertoire of jokes? Come on! Now you know why the affirmations of farewell flooded in. It was to strengthen you with memories for days like these. But what about the other farewells: "What are you running away from?" "How do you know you're doing the right thing by going?" "Weal be one short here next year: there'll be no replacement for you." It's a year of preparation for the next step. What for,-exactly? Preparation for a real culture shock, when poverty is not just seen but is my lot too, when the language barrier cannot be avoided by staying with an English-speaking community and teaching in an English- 516 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 speaking medium school? Preparation for a land where even cricket is un-known, and to be a priest is to be suspected? What sort of preparation anyway? If I said purification, how would that sound? It sounds awful! But then again it sounds right. What else but purification to describe this sudden and traumatic state with nothing visibly significant to do? Was I still so chained to the merry-go-round of activity for its own sake? Was I really so reliant upon success in tasks and relationships that the lack of any prospect of success is so sour? Was I .(who read so much and reveled in change) really in such a rut that these different people, this strange place, these foreign tongues are so unsettling? Purification. Yes, that's it. One thing has to go, I know, and that is the spirit of giving a performance. Didn't I feel only yesterday, halfway through prayer, that it was a performance for God? And didn't that realization stop me dead and make me ask him to lead me? But purification for what? What kind of purification is it that involves an irritation at the discovery that the English wording of the Our Father here is different from the one I learned thirty-six years ago? What kind of purification is it that makes me so annoyed at the mistakes I made at a game of draughts last night? At draughts, for heaven's sake! What kind of purification is it that makes me feel so awkward when the teachers call me "Sir" and want to shake my hand each morning; when every one of fifteen hundred boys seems to want a personal answer to his "Good morning, Sir"?. What kind of purification is it that makes me feel I'm not coping as I was so used to coping? Why do I feel so suspicious and afraid? Ah, do you hear what you are saying? You were so used to coping! The one who is coping doesn't usually ask for help. Or so l~ve noticed. OK. I need to trust more. I walked the streets of this city; I landed at that chaotic airport; I passed those first homes of the very poor and turned to you and said: "In you, O Lord, I place my trust." Sure you did. Incidentally, I prompted that, you know. But trust now means to let go of that crumbling cliff-face that you're perched on and to hold on to me as l find a path to real safety. But what is this crumbling cliff?. Do I have all that much to let go of?. What do you think? Would my naming things just now really help? Or would it just add to the theory? Let me just gently release those fingers of yours one by one and transfer your weight onto me. It's sort of traumatic and gentle at the same time. Look down if you like, because your part'of the cliff will be down there shortly. So what do I do? Even at prayer I find my requests are selfish and I doubt my sincerity at any noble petition. That's another thing. Why do youpray as if l were unable to speak? Who was it who changed your prayer from "Gift me" to "Please continue to bless me and guide me in your service'? Who prompted your praise for all the good you see in this land of poverty? Is it just a matter of time, then? Everyone Who Has Left Father and Mother / 517 Well, time is not the enemy. I, too, shared the experience of waiting. I endured those sterile sermons in the synagogue and waited for the time when I myself would speak, l know what it's like to wait. l also know what it's like to have to change plans. Do you remember when I was in the Temple, aged twelve? Remember the results of my long retreat in the desert? Then I, discovered my mission was to be done in weakness not comfort, in powerless-ness not power, in ordinariness not in the spectacular. Didn't you preach on , that once? So what do I do? Should I write, read, visit, wander the streets and bazaars? What? What you do is less important than doing whatever it is with humility and love and with me. I find that fine for a while, but the days can become long and empty. That means you are waiting. Remember once you doubted if I wanted you to come here and you offered to call it off?. I said whether I wanted you to come or not, I would always be with you. I remember. I never looked back after that. Or have I? We'll talk again sometime. I have no intention of guarding you from the truth of these people, of yourself, of our real mission together. Keep in touch. Sure. thanks. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions I and I! by Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The Fourth Vow of the Jesuits John R. Sheets, S.J. Father Sheets, a frequent contributor, is a member of the Department of Theology of Creighton University (Omaha, NE 68178). His topic is one of recurring media, interest, especially in view of the Jesuits' upcoming 33rd General Congregation. The recently published article on the Jesuits' fourth vow by Father John O'Malley, "The Fourth Vow in Its Ignatian Context: A Historical Study,"I has more than academic interest at this particular juncture in the history of the Society of Jesus and its relationship to the Holy See. Beginning with the Jesuits' Thirty-second General Congregation (December l, 1974 to March 7, 1975), there has been a series of unfortunate contretemps between the Society and the pope. Pope Paul VI's final appraisal of the work of that congregation, as conveyed in Cardinal Villot's letter (May 2, 1975), was not enthusiastic: "From an examination of the decrees, it appears that well-known circum-stances prevented the General Congregation from achieving all that His Holiness had expected from this important event . " Nor was the Society's own appraisal of itself that positive. The first item on the agenda of every general congregation according to the statutes is the election of a commission to review the state of the Society. This commission, after reviewing the material at its disposal, issued its report to the assembled delegates. | was one of the delegates. We felt that the report was too negative. We remanded it to the commission. If my memory serves me, we voted to disband the commission itself. However, the tone of the report found its way into a decree called "Jesuits Today." It begins with the words: "What is it to be a Jesuit? It is to know that one is a sinner, yet called to be a companion of Jesus." After the commission's report, and the response of the delegates, Fr. Arrupe took up the topic in an address to the congregation: Two images he 518 The Fourth Vow of the Jesuits / 5"i9 used stand out in my memory. He compared the Society to a ship that has come through a storm, battered, but intact. He also described it as a person who is ill, but not mortally. Another series of events is more recent. In October 1981, to the surprise of e~,eryone, Pope John Paul II, in an unprecedented action, replaced the man chosen by Fr. Arrupe as his personal vicar. In his place, the pope named an Italian Jesuit, Fr. Paolo Dezza, who has had a long history of service to the Society, as his personal delegate to the Society. Predictably the reaction among Jesuits ran the gamut. On the part of many the reactions were negative: feelings of anger, resentment, indignation, confusion, suspicion, hurt. Some, on the other hand, saw it as a special sign of love and concern the Holy Father had for the Society, intended to help us prepare more fruitfully for the upcoming congregation at which a new general will.be elected. The initial bristling reaction was in large part quieted by subsequent events. The week-long meeting of the provincials from all over the world with Fr. Dezza, then their personal conference with the pope brought a great deal of mutual understanding. Finally, Fr. Dezza's letter convoking the next General Congregation to take place in September of 1983 set our faces toward the future. Fr. O'Malley's article on the fourth vow assumes, then, a special impor-tance in the light of the events just mentioned. Its implications for our collec-tive awareness of our relationships toward the Holy See merit serious attention. In what fol~lows, after an analysis of Fr. O~Malley~s article, I shall pose questions expressing my misgiving with his argumentation and his conclusion. Then I shall present Fr. Arrupe's treatment of the fourth vow in some of his recent writings. Needless to say, even in my disagreement with Fr. O'Malley, I respect him as a scholar and personal friend. The Fourth Vow However, even before I begin, I should say something about the Jesuits' fourth vow for the benefit of non-Jesuits who might read this. In establishing his religious order, St. Ignatius took over, of course, many traditional aspects of religious life. In other points he was creative and innovative. He took over, for example, the idea of the final vows that a member would make after a period of probation. But he also introduced an innovation in what arecalled "grades" in the Society~ Those who are admitted to last vows would be admitted on two grades (or levels). The first grade comprises the spiritual (priests) and temporal (lay brothers) coadjutors. The second grade is that of the professed. Besides the regular vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, the professed took a fourth vow of obedience to the pope. The description of this fourth vow is found in The Formula of the Institute, the document in which Pope Julius IIl in 1550 gave his full approbation to this new congregation. 520 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 The pertinent sentences from the formula are the following: "We are obliged by a special vow to carry out whatever the present and future Roman pontiffs may order in what pertains to the progress of souls and the propaga-tion of the faith; and to go without subterfuge or excuse, as far as in us lies, to whatsoever provinces they may choose to send us . , The motive for the vow is "for the sake of our greater devotion in obedience to the Apostolic See, of greater abnegation of our own wills, and of surer direction from the Holy Spirit." Further declarations are found in the Constitutions for the Society written by St. Ignatius. "The Fourth Vow in Its Ignatian Context: A Historical Study" I come then to Fr. O'Malley's article. He describes in the Introduction the particular question that focuses his study: "The most specific and urgent ques-tion raised in the past few years is how the vow relates to the papal magiste-rium. Does the vow obligate Jesuits to an adherence to that magisterium that is different from that of other Catholics, especially Catholic theologians, and is 'special' to the members of the Society? That question, we must note right off, is asked regarding an obligation imposed by the vow" (p. 1). The article is prompted then by the problem facing Jesuits, particularly teachers, writers, editors. Does the fourth vow oblige them to support papal teaching if they judge there is room for legitimate disagreement? In Part I. St. Ignatius and Doctrine, upon examining the relevant sources, Fr. O'Malley draws the conclusion that St. Ignatius had no interest in doctrine qua doctrine, but only in its pastoral implications. "Is it too much to state that Ignatius had no real interest in doctrine or theology in the conventional sense of those terms today? A strong case can be made for that position" (p. 9). "Ignatius conceived doctrine almost entirely with a view to pastoral effective-ness" (p. 11). "The behavioral and attitudinal components emerge much stronger in this 'horizon' than do more strictly dogmatic issues" (p. 11). Part II. St. Ignatius and Orthodoxy deals with doctrine as the object of faith. Here he takes up St. Ignatius' "Rules for Thinking with the Church." He addresses himself mainly to Rule 13: "What seems to me white, I will believe (creer) black if the hierarchical Church so defines, believing (creyendo) between Christ our Lord, the spouse, and the Church, his bride, there is the same Spirit which governs us and directs us to the salvation of our souls." Rather than se.,eing this rule as applying to doctrinal orthodoxy qua orthodoxy, O'Malley interprets it more as a practical directive: "His 'rule' emerges, therefore, more as an indication of a disposition of soul (sentir) than as a practical instrument for theological discourse. It thus reflects the attitudi-nal and affective intent that pervades Ignatius' writings" (p. 15). "But, again like the rest of us, Ignatius was cautious, conventional, and even undiscrimi-nating in areas where he had no deep inte~rest. One of these areas was academic theology, and even the relationship of that theology to orthodoxy" (p. 16). According to O'Malley, then, Ignatius had little interest in academic theology, The Fourth l,'ow of the Jesuits / 521 or the relationship of theology to dogma, or interest in dogma itself, except as providing some kind of pastoral orientation. O'Malley begins Part III. St. Ignatius and the Church with a statement which seems to moderate what he said before: "If there is one exception to this vagueness on dogma in Ignatius' thinking, it lies in ecclesiology" (p. 21). But he goes on to correct this impression. What was Ignatius' idea of the Church? Not primarily a "school of doc-trine," nor a hierarchical and sacramental reality, but as a locus for ministry. "Ministry, quite ~imply, is what the Church is about. As one conceives minis-try, therefore, so does one conceive Church" (p. 24). "Rather than 'school of doctrine,' therefore, a less ambiguous term of Ignatius' idea of the Church might be 'school of the affections' or 'school of affectivity'" (p. 25). What is the identifying role of the papacy then? Since the Church is to be conceived as the locus of ministry, the pope is conceived as the universal provider for ministry in the Church. "The consensus was., that the pope was the universal pastor with certain prerogatives that made him the ultimate judge in areas where equitable settlement could otherwise not be achieved. He resolved disputes and thereby was the ultimate guarantor of order in the Church. 'Pastor' and 'judge' would be the two best words to describe his function" (p. 28). Was there such a thing as papal magisterium at the time of Ignatius? Not in the sense in which it exists today, according to O'Malley. "The pope is rarely described as 'teacher,' at least as we would be inclined to understand that word today" (p. 29). "They were very far, then, from exercising a teaching office in any regular and positive sense" (p. 29). What was it, then, that led Ignatius to conceive the fourth vow? According to O'Malley, it was mainly his sense of order. This came from his temperament and background, as well as from the contemporary world view that saw hierarchy as the natural order of the universe. "It was inevitable that he would ascribe this same structure to the Church" (p. 31). Was the vow a one-sided promise that the Society be totally at the service of the pope? Not exactly. It was a quidpro quo: "They needed the Holy See as badly as they believed the Holy See needed them . In defending the Holy See. the Jesuits were also defending their own charter to exist" (p. 32). "The relationship between the Jesuits and the pope was mutually advan-tageous" (p. 33). However functional this whole arrangement was, O'Malley concedes that Ignatius did, nevertheless, have a special regard for the Holy See. But one should not read back into his devotion to the Holy See the personalistic fervor that grew up around the person of the Holy Father in the nineteenth century (p. 33). In Part II/. St. Ignatius and the Fourth l,'ow O'Malley argues against the position of two Jesuits, a German and a~ Spaniard, who hold a position contrary to his. He feels they go too far in expanding the scope of the vow. He 522 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 grants that "the symbolic character of a vow, as an expression of a religious ideal, should be expansive, but the proper object of a vow must., be clearly localized" (p. 38). He then states again the specific question he is addressing: "Can the pope bind a Jesuit by virtue of his vow to some 'special' defense, say, of Veterum sapientia, or Populorum progressio, or Humanae vitae, or Laborem exer-cens?" (p. 40). His answer is "No." There is no indication that Ignatius or his companions ever considered this as a likelil~ood or possibility (p. 40). He rules out, then, the possibility of the pope comman~ding some specific teaching by reason of the

Issue 26.6 of the Review for Religious, 1967. ; i~onfessions o~ Religious W~men by Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. 981 Protestant Women in Religion by Elsie Gibson 1 O11 ¯ Postulancy, Noviceship, Profession by Jbseph F. Gallen, S.J.~ 1i326 Self-Study for Renewal 0 :: by Benedict M. As.Key, O.P. 1034 The Secular Religious by George B. Murray, S.J. 1047 Renewal in Historical Perspective by Eugene A. L~Verdiere, S.S.S. 1056 From a Johannine Desert by John T. Carrnody, S.J. 1065 Religious Vocation: A Decision by Sister M. Cordula, C.S.A. 1081 Guidelines for Formation by Robert Y. O'Brien, S:J. 1090 Indwelling Summit by T~omas Dubay, S.M. 1094 Paper in Religious Life by Richard M. McKeon, S.J. 1113 The Infused Gift of Humility by Joseph de Guibert, S.J. 1117 Poems 1129 \ Views, News, Previews 1130 Questions and Answers 1134 Book Reviews 1140 1967 Indexes 1163 VO~.UME 26 NUMBER 6 November 1967 NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS On February 1, 1968, P~viEw voR RELIGIOUS will pub-lish clothbound reprints of volumes 21 to 25 (1962-1966) inclusive of the REwEw. These clothbound reprints will cost $7.50 each per volume or $37.50 for all five volumes. However, until January 31, 1968, these volumes will be sold at a special prepublication price o[ $6.00 per volume or $30.00 for the entire set of five volumes, provided that orders are accompanied by lull payment in U.S.,'I. [unds and are postmarked on or belore January 31, 1968. The first twenty volumes (1942-1961) inclusive of the P~v~Ew have already been reprinted in twenty cloth-bound volumes. These normally sell at $6.50 per volume or $130.00 for the set o[ twenty. However, from November 15, 1967, to January 31, 1968, inclusive, they will be sold at the special price of $5.00 per volume or $100.00 for the set of twenty. On February 1, 1968, and thereafter the price of these first twenty volumes of the REvIEw will return to their normal price of $6.50 per volume. Postage and carriage costs will be paid by the R~vi~w when full payment in U.S.A. funds accompanies orders; in other cases postage and carriage costs will be charged to the purchaser. Orders for all the above should be sent to: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Lbuis, Missouri 63103 SISTER M. DENIS, S.O.S. The Confessions of Religious Women INTRODUL'I~ION As was apparent from Part I of this study,* few priest-confessors and sister-penitents are satisfied with the pres-ent situation of the confessions of women religious. Eleven serious problem areas were defined through questionnaires answered by both priests and sisters. The purpose of the second half of this study is to present some practical suggestions towards solving these prob-lems, including fundamental changes in attitude, changes in exterior structures, and modifications in canon law and liturgical rites in an effort to render this encounter of the religious woman with the forgiving Christ as meaningful as possible. The sudden death of Father J. A. Glarmont, C.Ss.R., one of the original co-authors of this study, has affected the viewpoint of the present paper. Many of the ideas contained therein, particularly those pertaining to the role of the confessor, are taken from the notes of and previous discussions with the late Father Clarmont. May this understanding priest, who dedicated many years as a confessor to women religious, continue to guide con-fessors and sisters by his spirit and his intercession with the forgiving Christ. 1. The Problem of Change (a) ,4pproaches to Change. Change for the sake of change or haphazard approaches to change may be of little value and may, in fact, perpetrate much harm. In Part I we have attempted to analyze those factors which tend to render the sacrament of penance less meaningful, thus clearly defining our objectives. In the present paper we shall attempt to apply modern sacra- ¯ The first part of this study appeared in REvmw FOR RELIGIOUS, v. 26 (19fi7), pp. 581-fi03. Sister M. Denis, S.O~q., writes from 62 Hargrave St.; Winnipeg 1, Mani-toba; Canada. VOLUME 26, 1967 981 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 982 mental theology to the existential sittiation. Finally, we shall complement our findings with the many sound positive suggestions from the questionnaires returned by the priest-confessors and sister-penitents. On the part of the priest and sister reader, we caution wisdom to dis-cern what changes can be affected in their own particular situations. Present structures cannot be transformed immediately. Although many of the conditions surrounding the con-fessions of women religious are deplorable, the funda-mental change is a reorientation of one's own attitude through deeper knowledge, prayerful insight, and subse-quent personal renewal. Therefore, the following sug-gestions will derive their greatest practicality from their bearing on current conditions. However, we must avoid the temptation to rest in the present situation. Ultimate reform of present structures by reasonable means and through proper channels should be the concern of every priest-confessor and sister penitent. (b) Means of Effecting Changes. Individuals must never lose sight of the truism that changes ar~ effected by people in the concrete, not ideas in the abstract. The most practical and lasting changes are those which proceed from personal experience, not those which are' imposed from above. With respect to the confessions of women religious, grassroot discussions should take place within each convefit among the sisters concerning their particular problems. The difficulties revealed in Part I of the present study might serve as guidelines for these discussions. Then a frank and open dialogue between the confessor(s) and sisters of a given convent would re-sult in greater mutual understanding concerning the various aspects of this sacrament. The questionnaires revealed serious misunderstandings, primarily due to lack of open communication. With the rapid growth of diocesan synods and diocesan committees of religious, suitable channels are being instituted for effective pres-entation of these problems and suggestions to the re-spective bishops. And finally, the principle of collegiality and the corresponding strengthening of regional con-ferences of bishops augur much hope for efficacious ac-tion in alleviating many of the problems surrounding the confessions of women religious. THEOLOGICAL DIMENSIONS OF PENANCE The familiar parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15) has been cast by Christ in a certain framework which has value for our consideration of the sacrament of pen-ance. Refreshingly free of the juridical elements that have dominated theological thought for centuries con- cerning penance, the parable illustrates the dynaJic and positive aspects of this sacrament. For the sake of Iclarity we shall refer to these aspects as the personal, inierper-sonal, ecclesial or communal, and cultal dimensions of the sacrament of penance. Indeed, these dlmenstons I are blended so carefully in the parable that only~ upon careful reflection can each be distinguished from the others¯ The son has sinned against the father. His sin a d con-sequent remorse, repentance, and conversion are not mere applications of some remote abstraction; t~ey are intensely personal. "! am dying of hunger. I will leave this place.1 have sinned." x As a sinful person, the prodigal presents himself to his father and seeks for-giveness. The immediate drama of forgiveness takes plaice be-tween two persons. In acknowledgang hts sxn the son declared, ". I will go to my lather and say: Father, have sinned against heaven and against you.' "2[ Sin is the disruption of an interpersonal relationship with the Father. Of the father we read: He ran to the boy, clasped h~m xn hxs arms and kissed hlm tend.erly.' The sinful person is received by the forgiving person. In this forgiving encounter the movement is not all one-sided. When the son came into view, the father ~ran to . him. The very acts of repentance and corresp?nding forgiveness with the bestowal of gifts, amid great joy and happiness, flow from an intense love between father and son. It is clear, however, that the act of loving forgiveness goes beyond the re-establishment of relations between father and son. There is a real need to celebrate this event in the community. Announcing the return [of the son to the entire household, the father called for group festivities. The manner or cult of the celebration was c~efully specified. The best robe, a ring and sandals were or-dered for the son. In a common eating of the lfatted calf the entire community, with music and dancing, re-joiced at the return of the prodigal. To the eider son's I angry objections over such a display, the father's answer I indicated that the real nature of forgaveness has per-sonal, interpersonal, communal, and cultal dimensions: "My son, you are with me always and all I t~ave is yours. But it was only right we should celebrate and re- XLk 15:18. All scriptural quotations are taken from T~e Jeru-salem Bible edited by Alexander Jones (Garden City: Doubleday, ~ Lk 15:18. e Lk 15:21. ÷ ÷ ÷ Contessions ol Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 983 4, 4, Sister M. Denis, S.O .S REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 984 joice, because your brother here was dead and has come to life; he was lost and is found." 4 In discussing these dimensions as they relate to the confessions of women religious, two errors should be avoided; first, that the apparent divisiveness caused by separating each dimension from the others be not trans-ferred to the unity found in the sacramental encounter; and second, that one dimension be not emphasized to the detriment or exclusion of the others. In no way are we attempting a complete theology of the sacrament of penance. 1. Personal Dimension In ~he past some confusion regarding the nature of penance has resulted from a mistaken notion of the per-sonal dimension of this sacrament. The result of this confusion, in which the words "private" and "personal" were often erroneously interchanged,led to a dichotomy between theory and practice. Theoretically, penance was upheld as a public act of the Church, but in practice it was reduced to a private act of an individual. While always a personal act, penance is never a private act. The personal dimension of penance is essentially a conver-sion. Sin itself is personal. When approaching the sacrament of penance, one comes to accuse, not excuse oneself. Seeing sin as a transgression of a law, a mere external act or even as a failure in one's own moral growth is not to comprehend it as a personal rebellion against God. "The Old Testament. concept of sin is, as it were, the reverse of the Old Testament concept of God." 5 More than a mere act, sin is a state or condition of the person who has turned from his original commit-ment to God. According to St. Thomas Aquinas, the matter of the sacrament of penance is the very person of the penitent:6 "Leave me, Lord; I am a sinful man." 7 Before shedding this burden, the sinner must first ac-knowledge it as his own. In the initial acts of the sacra-ment of penance the penitent assumes his responsibility for and accuses himself of this sinful condition. Thus, the religious in the devotional confession approaches the sacrament as a sinful person. Far too much emphasis in such confessions has been placed on the legalistic recital of specific acts and not enough on the condition of the sinner. ¯ Lk 15:31-2. ~ Louis F. Hartman, C.Ss.R., (tr.), Encyclopedic Dictionary oI the Bible (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1963), p. 415. 6St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologiae (New York: Benziger, 1947), 3, 84, 1, Reply Obj. 1, 2, 3. 7 Lk 5:8. It follows, then, that the sorrow of the sinful ]~erson must likewise be personal: a sorrow which emanate from the sinner's very being, a sorrow which is rooted in the fact of her sinful condition, a sorrow which resul~s in a conversion of the whole person to God. Neither regret nor remorse are adequate expressions of true sorrow. Re-gret applies primarily to actions for which one is not personally responsible. Remorse, on the other h~{nd, is a counterfeit of true sorrow and falls short of the~ mark in that it remains preoccupied with one's own ~ainful condition with no desire for reparation. True sorrow, however, is found in a theologically and psychologically sound understanding of repentance which spnngs from faxth, is sustained by hope, and culminates ~n love." s At the heart of true repentance is a vital movement of hope--that hope which ~nspirIe .s the sinful person to return to the Father who fo~rglves. Within this context of hope the sinful person experi-ences contrition or sorrow of a communal and personal nature--communal because of the evil done to the [Chris-tian community, and personal because of the evil done to oneself by offending the Holy Spirit. Note, however, the other-centeredness' or love-centereOness ot tins repentance. Another characteristic of true repentance is a s~ncere humility in which the sinful person perceives his situation with truth. Essential to the notion of re-pentance is also the desire for reparation--"a ppsitive loving attitude which he must adopt m order to sausfy for the evil committed insofar as that is possible." The whole dynamism of repentahce culminates' in a turning of the whole person to God: Even if there should be no new sins since the previo,~s con-fession or if sin has already been forgiven in previous sacra-ments and contrition, the Christian, e.g., in the devotional con-fession, stillengages in meaningful action: he makes sacrament or sign to God that he is a sinner, contrite and grateful in praise of God s mercy. He witnesses sorrow not merely for sepa-rate acts of sin, but sorrow that he the person has separated himself from the Father's love. He witnesses the turning, re-begun or continued, of his whole person back to the Fatt~er.1° In this sense we speak of the personal dimensioni ~f the sacrament of penance as metanoia or conversion:l"It is not the unconditional absolution, but the 'sacramentali-zation' of the human acts which constitutes, wi~h the pardon certified by the words of the priest, the [ ;acra-s Charles Davis, "Penance," an unpublished lecture deliv red at The Divine Word Centre; London, Ontario, on October 12,11966. ~ Pierre Remy, S.M., "Theolog~ of the Sacrament of P~nance" in M.-B. Carra de Vaux Saint:Cyr et al., The Sacrament of ~enance (Glen Rock: Paulist Press, 1966), p. 69. / ~°Roderick Hindery, O.S.B., "Penance, the Sacrament 6f Con-version," Homiletic and Pastoral Review, v. 65 (1964), p. 205. ÷ ÷ ÷ Ctmtessions oI Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 985 ¯ ment of Penance." ix Thus the sacrament of penance is not limited to the confession-absolution encounter with the representative of the Church, but begins with the repentance of the sinful person. Indeed, this very move-ment of conversion, usually prior to the confession-ab-. solution encounter in our present rite, is one of the first fruits of penance: When a person has reached an achieved repentance in the sense of having reached .the moment of charity and the return to God in justifying charit); before confession, yet his con-version still needs to be rendered stable through the comple-tion of its ecclesial expression and in continuing the process of conversion is thus con-solidated, completed, in thus being fully expressed ecclesially. The whole process is sacramental and the sacrament continues to be effective because it continues to em-body and thus consolidates and intensifies the conversion.= ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Denis, $.0.$ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 986 2. Interpersonal Dimension Helpful in alleviating much of the routine that fre-quently accompanies the reception of penance is a deep understanding, enlightened by faith, of the sacrament as an encounter with Christ. This encounter is the very essence of the interpersonal dimension of penance. As stated in the previous section, the personal aspect of penance is essentially a conversion. This conversion is a recognition of, a turning toward Christ. In our sin-fulness we meet Christ, but we refuse to recognize Him. In our repentance we turn toward Christ in the mystery of His death and resurrection. Our actions must ex-press, must symbolize effectually the application of His death-resurrection in our lives. By this metanoia we die to our sin and rise to a new life in Him. The very act of repentance, the beginning of the sacramental process, is an encounter with the risen Christ, who is the source of the sinner's conversion. As a commemora-tive sign, penance actualizes those historically unrepeat-able actions of Christ. In this sense the sacrament brings about the same process of transformation undergone by Christ in His death-resurrection,la The encounter with the death-resurrection of Christ by one's own death to sin finds its fullest expression in the Church. Not only is the human community of the Church the embodiment of Christ in the world today, but the Church, through the sacraments makes Christ's redemptive action present in a particular time and place. Because penance is an action of Christ who embodies forgiveness through the Church's liturgical action and = Dom Claude Jean-Nesmy, Conscience and ConIession (Chicago: Franciscan Herald, 1965), p. 41. = Davis, "Penance." ~ Davis, "Penance." an action of the penitent who expresses sorrow arid re-pentance, it is an intense interpersonal encounter ~f per-son with Person. Charles Davis expresses this sacramen-tal encounter as "a meeting point where mutual personal union comes to fruition in an embrace and is~ thus intensified. Christ is present to us and we to Hiha." In the confession-absolution encounter--be it "com-munal or individual--Christ is present to us through the words and actions of His Church; we are present to~ Him through our words and actions acknowledging our sin-fu~ condition. Too often the interpersonal dimension of penance on the purely human level is either overlooked or Imini-mized. In auricular confession this encounter of Christ and the penitent is externally symbolized by thle hu-man encounter of the confessor and the penitent ~vhich . should be as meaningful as conditions and personah-ties permit. They should be present to one another as persons, not as automatons: "The sinner has ~o be brought into contact with God through his relatlqnshap with his confessor, as one man to another." 15 IJnfor-tunately, the present rite and traditional practices £re-quently militate against this mutual personal presence on the human level. 3. Ecclesial Dimension In considering the personal dimension of penance we have discussed the nature of the sinner's conversion; in examining the interpersonal dimension of penance we have attempted to describe how the sacrament is an en-counter not only with Christ's representative but with Christ Himself. This personal repentance, this personal conversion must be within the context of the Christian community. The sacramental meeting with Christ like-wise, takes place in and through the Church. No~ only as the sacrament of penance a gaft to each andivadual sinner, but it is also a gift to the Church as a ~,hole. Women religious belong to the People of God especially through their respective ~ommunities'bythe evangehcal~ " counsels which "join their followers to the Church and her mystery in a special way." 10 Therefore, the com-munal dimension of penance should have a special meaning for sisters whose mode of life is a visibl~ sign of the community life of the Church. | The current sacramental rite and practices dd not, 1~ Charles Davis; "The Sacraments Linked with Grace," a lecture delivered at The Divine Word Centre; London, Ontario, (Jctober 6, 1966. ~Adrienne von Speyr, Conlession, the Encounter with C ist in Penance(Montreal: Palm Publishers, 1964), p. 209. :e Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, paragraph 44. 4. 4. Conlessions oy Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 987 4. 4. 4. $i~ter M. Denis~ $.0.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 988 as yet, adequately emphasize the presence of the ecdesial community. Nevertheless, the sacramental actions of re-pentance and the avowal of one's condition of sinful-ness signify the reconciliation and intensification of the penitent's union with the community, the People of God, the Body of Christ. Sound theology has always stressed the ecclesial character of penance: The res or thing, states Saint Thomas, which this sacrament, like the Eucharist, signifies, is ultimately the unity of the Church which sin disrupts, thereby affecting indirectly every member's life and strength in Christ.1. More recently, Schillebeeckx writes: The ecclesial effect of the Sacrament of Penance is recon-ciliation with the Church as the Sacrament of our reconciliation with God in Christ. The Church is the earthly manifestation of God's redeeming mercy, and confession is visible contact with the Church precisely under this aspect. It establishes us in the ecclesial status of penitents who, by the performance of the penance required by the Church and through the mercy of her absolution, become reconciled with God Himself.as From the first part of this study it was evident that many sisters and confessors had little or no realiza-tion of the ecclesial value of penance. The importance of this dimension is a theme which will be repeatedly stressed throughout the second part of this study. The spirituality of religious is shifting from a strongly in-dividualistic piety to a more balanced understanding of their solidarity with their brothers and sisters in Christ. With this deeper understanding of their social involvement, sin and consequent repentance will be re-alized more efficaciously in its relation to the hindrance or promotion of the reign of Christ in His Church upon earth. In the early Church the ecclesial character of pen-ance was so strongly emphasized that private confes-sion similar to the form in use today was not common until the seventh century. Although penance at this time was received only once in a person's life, the char-acteristic features of this early rite bring into sharp focus the communal and ecclesial nature of the sacra-ment. During this time the state of the sinful person corresponded directly to his exterior situation in the Christian community. After a private confession of sins to the bishop and a public avowal of one's interior state the penitent was cut off from participation in the Eu-charistic celebrations and the prayers of the commun-ity. When he attended the Liturgy of the Word, he re- 1~ Hindery, "Penance, the Sacrament of Conversion," p. 207. aSE. Schillebeeckx, O.P., Christ the Sacrament o] the Encounter with God (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), p. 174. mained in sackcloth and ashes at the back of the Church: "In response the entire community prayed for him, join-ing its penance to his. To state it another way, the prayers and penance of the guilty ones were assumed into those of the community." 19 Just before Easter, if the bishop deemed the sinner to be wholly converted to God, he was dramatically ad-mitted to complete reconciliation with the Church. Ab-solution was public and the penitent was led to his place within the faithful where he was once more ad-mitted to communion with Christ and with his brothers. Then, as now, it is "through a corporate action, a rite of the Christian community, that .the Christian's repentance is sealedl consecrated and brought to its con-clusion." 20 In the sense that penance is an action of the Church it is thus a corporate action, not merely the private ac-tion of an individual. Everytime this corporate action is performed the pilgrim Church comes closer to God, and the members within the Church are more united to each other and thereby to God in Christ. In a paper given at a convention of religious canon lawyers of the East-ern United States, Father Cornelius Van der Poel, C.SS.P. strongly recommended that steps be taken to "increase the awareness of the social dimension of the sacrament in which as a community all come closer to God, and each individual becomes more closely attached to the community, since all forgive all for the sake of Christ whose holiness they express." 21 4. Cultal Dimension Often there is a tendency to regard the sacraments only as a means to salvation and to fail to appreciate their value as symbolic acts of worship. Particularly helpful to sisters who make frequent devotional confes-sions is an understanding of the sacrament of penance as an act of worship. Herein lies its cultal dimension. In both the administration and the reception of pen-ance, cultal values are easily neglected because of the emphasis on the individual penitent. Implicit in the confession of one's sinful state is a confession of, a wit-ness to the mercy, justice, and holiness of God. Thus the p~nitent's attitude is directed toward God and does not become wholly immersed in self: "As every sin is anti- 19M.-B. Carra de Vaux Saint-Cyr, O.P., "The Sacrament of Penance: An Historical Outline" in Carra de Vaux Saint-Cyr et al, The Sacrament of Penance, p. 20. ~ Paul Anciaux, The Sacrament of Penance (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1962), p. 9. = Cornelius Van der Poel, C.Ss.P., "The Confessions of Religious," Jurist, v. 26 (1966), p. 226. ÷ ÷ Contessions ot Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 989 cultal at its root, a failure of worship, because it makes not God but self the center, so conversion iscultal, an act of worship." ~2 Like the repentant Peter, the sinner's confession is "more than a mere act of self-accusation: it is a confes-sion of love." 23 "Lord, you know everything; you know I love you." ~4 In spite of the pain and difficulty some-times associated with the sacrament of penance, the sister-penitent would do well to reflect upon her con-fessions and see them in their true perspective--within the context of the official cult or worship offered to God by the Church. PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS The theoretical justification of the following sugges-tions for maki~ng the reception of penance more mean-ingful to women religious is based on the theological dimensions of penance just discussed,, and the practical-ity of these suggestions is hopefully derived from the pre-cise areas posed as problems by confessors and sisters (see Table 1). Some of these suggestions can be effected immediately in most ~ituations; others call for modifi-cations which can only be made by those on the admin-istrative or legislative levels. The primary concern of all should be directed toward expressing the full signifi-cance of the sacramental encounter. To this end, recommendations will be made concern-ing the freedom of the individual; sacramental train-ing; the examination of conscience; the whole area of the confessional dialogue including the relationship be-tween the confessor and penitent, the telling of sins, the role of the confessor and spiritual direction; the en-vironment of the confession; and the sacramental rite. + 4- + Sister M. D&enOls.S~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 99O 1. Freedom At the basis of most sisters' problems concerning penance is an almost uniform lack of physical fxeedom regarding frequency,-time, place, and the choice of con-fessor. Immediate steps should be taken to reform pres-ent legislation, that is, canon law and religious rules, and the equally 'binding local customs surrounding weekly confessions for religious in order to insure fxeedom and liberty of conscience. The present canons on the confessions of women re-ligious and their confessors were framed in a specific historical milieu and necessarily reflected the circum- = Hindery, "Penance, the Sacrament of Conversion," pp. 207-8. m B. Hiiring, C.Ss.R., ,4 Sacramental spirituality (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965), p. ~tJn 21:17. TABLE I Diffr~ulties Encountered by GonJessors and Sisters in the Sacrament of Penance Cited by 66 Confessors Di~culty Routine . Time problems . Lack of freedom . Insufficient training . Examination of conscience. Impersonal relationship . Confessor not understanding. Environment . Rite . Number of Con-fessors 33 12 36 16 30 5 8 35 20 Cited by 133 Sisters Difficulty Routine . Time problems . Lack of freedom . Insufficient training. Difficulty in confess-ing . Impersonal relation-ship . Confessor not under-standing . Parish priest for con-fessor . Lack of suitable di-rection . Environment . ,. Rite . Number of Sisters 53 0, 36 36 51 10" 56 93 38 "23 sisters have their parish priest as confessor stances of the time. Most women religious, to all in-tents and purposes, were cloistered. Even the active orders, the majority of which originated since the eight-eenth century, were relatively sheltered. Since the sis-ters did not normally leave the convent easily, the weekly visit of the confessor became an established institution. Ironically, laws which were made to insure freedom of conscience at one time in history, became tyrannical and inhibiting in another era. The interpretation of canon 595, section 3: "Superiors should see to it that all religious.approach the sacrament of penance at least once a week" has been a moot question. What-ever the true interpretation may be, the fact is that .too often, in too many convents, and to the detriment of too many persons, the canon has been literally interpreted and sisters were forced to approach the sacrament weekly, In January, 1966, the Committee on Religious Affairs of the religious canon lawyers of the Eastern United States unanimously agreed that these sections of the Code of Canon Law should be thoroughly re-vised, an Without waiting for canonical reformation, future chapters of religious women should examine their re- Van der Poel, "The Confessions of Religious," p. 214. 4- 4- 4- Conlessions ot P~ligio~ Women VOLUME 26, 1967 991 Sister M. Denis, $.0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS spective rules and delete all legislation binding sisters to the reception of the sacrament at specified intervals. Many sisters are disturbed by such passages in their rules which they consider to be binding. What is in the area of personal conscience cannot be legislated for an entire community. In localities where literal interpretation of canon law does not prevail, and the religious rule does not pre-scribe weekly confession, the sisters should not be obliged by custom to receive the sacrament of penance weekly. To the superior, the Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life enjoins: ".he must make a special point of leaving them appropriately free with respect to the sacrament of penance and direction of conscience." 26 The ~requency of reception should be governed by each sister's needs and desires~both of which are fostered by an intelligent appreciation of the sacrament of penance. As was suggested by many on the questionnaires, the sisters, where possible, should be free to receive the sac-rament of penance wherever they wish and to whom-ever they wish. This would involve a radical departure from the present custom of confessors appointed to come weekly to the convent. Sisters today have great .freedom of movement. To say that they are not able to go out of the convent for confession whenever needed is unrealis-tic. Several cloistered religious expressed a desire for this same freedom. It is deplorable that in existing sit-uations, women religious do not have the same freedom regarding the reception of the sacrament of penance as do lay people. On paper, for example, Quum de Sacra-mentalibus, 1913, sisters are ensured the liberty to con-less outside the convent whenever they wish; but until the whole convent structure of weekly confession is mod-ified, this freedom remains in the realm of theory and is not effective in fact, as most sisters will attest. Instead of the confessor coming weekly to each con-vent for confessions, he could come at regular intervals to be determined at the local level, for a communal penance service. More will be said later concerning a communal rite, but we would here recommend that in ¯ such a communal penance service, private confession be not of obligation for the reception of the sacrament. Such an arrangement would greatly relieve both the overburdened confessors and confessers. Regular ar-rangements for freedom of access to penance could be made locally for sick and infirm sisters. ~Decree on the Appropriate Renewal oI the Religious LiIe, paragraph 14. 2. Sacramental Training In spite of the flood of recent literature on penance, the questionnaires revealed that very few sisters have had any mature training to deepen their knowledge and appreciation of this sacrament they receive so often. Much of the routine reception encountered can be di-rectly attributed to personal ignorance--and invincible ignorance at that. Many sisters expressed a wish to have a better theological understanding of penance, particu-larly as an encounter with Christ and as an ecclesial act. ' Authorities cannot presume sucl~ training or expect that sisters somehow r~ceive the help needed through reading, retreats, or sheer spiritual osmosis. Such a pro-gram must be consciously planned and applied accord-ing to local constitutions and the needs of the sisters. It should be theological in scope and practical in applica-tion. Just as it is hardly realistic to presume that the preparation for one's first confession is sufficient for a lifetime, so also is it unreasonable to believe that a thorough grounding in the novitiate is adequate for one's whole religious life. Indeed, there are novitiates which do not even include in their formation programs a study of penance and its place in the life of a religious. All life is a growth; and a life in and for Christ is no ex-ception. Beyond the novitiate and juniorate, provision should be made for continuing education in this sacrament which plays so important a role in the life of a religious. In addition, to personal reading, the sisters in each house, as a community, could study recent books and articles on the subject. Superiors might provide tapes by prominent theologians; local confessors or compe-tent priests might give dialogue conferences on the sub-ject. Discussions where the sisters of a given house could share their insights and solve their common problems would be another valuable means for deepening one's knowledge and appreciation of the sacrament. The following outline suggests topics to be included in a program of study for religious women on the sacra-ment of penance. Every topic in this or similar pro-grams should bear directly on the individual sister's reception of penance that she may receive this sacra-ment with. greater meaning and hence derive much spiritual benefit. The appended references, which are by no means exhaustive, were selected primarily as basic sources because of their practicality, timeliness, and simplicity of approach. Conlesslons o! Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 993 ÷ + ÷ Sister M. DS.eOn.iSs., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 99,t Program of Study I. Sacramental Theology A. Nature of the Sacraments in General B. Nature of the Sacrament of Penance I. Personal Dimension--as a Conversion 2. Interpersonal Dimension--as an Encounter with Christ 3. Ecclesial Dimension--as a Reconciliation with the Christian Community 4. Cultal Dimension--~'as an Act of Worship C. History of the Sacrament of Penance D.Pertinent Legislation 1. Vatican II Documents 2. Canon Law 3. Religious Rule II. Nature of Religious Life III. Nature of Sin IV. Examination of Conscience V. The Actual Confession of Sins VI. Relationship with the Confessor VII. Spiritual Direction and the Sacrament of Penance Basic References on Penance I. M.-B. Carra de Vaux Saint-Cyr et al., The Sacrament of Penance. Glen Rock: Paulist Press, 1966. Paperback. An excellent compendium of modern theological thought on penance. The following four chapters, containing a good balance of theory and practice, are especially ,helpful: "The Sacrament of Penance: An Historical Outline '--A summary of the changes that have taken place in understanding this sacrament from the early Church to Vatican II. "Theology of the Sacrament of Penance',--Particularly clear and penetrating theological study in which the various dimensions, especially the ecclesial dimension, of penance are investigated. "Con-fession and Spiritual Direction in the Oriental Church"--A study of how the Eastern Church has been more faithful than the Western Church in maintaining a perspective of the sacrament that is closer to that of the early Church. "Toward a New Examination of Conscience"--A modern effort to renew the examination of conscience in a wider vision of a few funda-mental convictions on which the true destiny of man is con-structed before God. 2. Adrienne yon Speyr. Confession: The Encounter with Christ in Penance. Montreal: Palm Publishers, 1964. A non-technical treatment, based on trinitarian theology and the mission of Christ, of the entire sacramental process. Von Speyr thoroughly penetrates the inner meaning of penance and successfully integrates confessibn into the Christian's everyday encounter with Christ. Especially enlightening are the chapters on the confessions of religious, the confessions of contemplatives, the confession in active orders, the practice of confession, and the office of confessor (which includes spiritual direction). 3. Bernard Htiring, C.Ss.R. A Sacramental Spirituality. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965. A treatise on sacramental theology, simply s~ated, which leads to a prayerful understanding of the sacraments. The section on me grace of confession, pp. 95-106, is one of the most helpful treatises on the cultal dimension of penance. The section on the Church as a "sacrament" of willingness to do penance, pp. 109-118, places the sacramental action in its ecclesial context. 4. E. Schillebeeckx, O. P. Christ the Sacrament of the En-counter with God. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963. Difficult reading, but basic sacramental theology. Par-ticularly helpful in understanding penance as an encounter with Christ. 5. Roderick Hindery, O.S.B. "Penance, the Sacrament of Con-version," Homiletic and Pastoral Review, v. 65, (1964), pp. 203-8. An outstanding popular treatment of the four theological dimensions of penance with practical suggestions for imme-diate and long range implementation. 6. Roderick Hindery, O.S.B. "Confession and Legalism," Sisters Today, v. 38 (Jan., 1967), pp. 157-61; and "The Sacrament of Penance and Cheap Grace" in Sisters Today, v. 38 (Feb. 1967), pp. 188-93. Both articles are directed toward sisters who make frequent devotional confessions. An attempt to dispel former legalistic attitudes by replacing them with a positive theol6gical under-standing of sin, conversion, and penance. 7. Dale Olen, O.F.M.Cap. ',Devotional Confession," REviEw for R~.Lxc~ous, v. 25 (1966), pp. 1030-41. A successful effort to raise routine and mechanical confes-sions back to their proper place as truly decisive moments in the Christian experience. 8. L. J. Lebret and T. Suavet "Examination of Conscience for Adults," Crosscurrents, v. 7 (1957), pp. 289-93. A unique examination of conscience which indicates many deviations and omissions which are not usually mentioned but which tend to diminish the freedom of the individual in his relations to God and man. 9. William Barclay. The Plain Man Looks at the Beatitudes. London: Fontana Books, 1963. Paperback. An examination of the meaning of the beatitudes for modern man in the light of the Old and New Testaments and biblical language. 10. R. Howe. The Miracle of Dialogue. New York: Seabury, 1965. Paperback. Contains penetrating insights for the sacrament of penance if read with the confessional dialogue and the relationship of the confessor and penitent in mind. 11. PSre Gardeil, O.P. The Holy Spirit in the Christian Li[e. London: Blackfriars, 1953. Thomistically oriented, prayerful treatise on the gifts of the Holy Spirit with a chapter on each corresponding beatitude. 12. Dom Claude Jean-Nesmy. Conscience and Confession. Chi-cago: Franciscan Herald, 1965. Especially intended for those who cannot undertake a systematic study of modern historical and theological works on penance. Emphasis is on the concepts of God, others, and future, rather than sin, me, and the past. Pages 113-26 contain an examination of conscience by referring to the New Testa-merit-- not a "list" in the usual sense. 3. Examination of Conscience The whole area of sisters' examination of conscience was viewed with sharp criticism by priest-confessors and with great dissatisfaction by sister-penitents. Unfortu- 4" 4" 4" onfessions ot Religious Woraen VOLUME 26, 1967 995 ÷ 4, ÷ Sister M. Denis, .~: S.O.S. REVIEW FOR REFIGIOUS nately, the examination of conscience tends to dwell on minutiae, on petty violations of the rule and cus-toms; for many it is negative and legalistic, a stereo-typed catalogue of failings, entirely too introspective, pertaining to self and not to social obligations, center-ing on actions rather than on the root causes (the in-ner dynamism which B. H~i{ing terms "acts" 27) or at-titudes of which actions are only the external signs. These criticisms may be reduced to the fact that the sisters' examination does not truly and authentically re-flect her personal condition before God. Rather, atten-tion is deflected to certain external factors--to one's rule, the teaching of the novice mistress, or most often to one of the many current "lists" which purport to be aids. The sister should examine her conscience accord-ing to her lights not her lists. Whatever is patently sin-ful or deliberately.opposed to the commandments of God, the rule, or the vows will be readily apparent without undue scrutiny. The examination, therefore, should be an aid to a healthy self-knowledge and center on one's trends and attitudes. For any real progress, sis-ters have to alter this mentality which is concerned with delineating every little point laid down by some-one else. The human person cannot be put into neat and sharp categories. Keligious, although they live in com-munity, are no exception. One wonders if religious would have such difficulty with the examination of conscience if it were not for the auricular confession that follows. The longer a woman is in religious life, the more intense this problem becomes. Perhaps the answer lies in the following com-ment of Father Louis Monden, S.J.: As the inner life grows stronger, the same phenbm~non may occur for the confession of sins as happens in prayer: it be-comes increasingly poor in ideas and in words.= Certainly the strain would be greatly mitigated by com-munal penance in which th~ sister presents her sinful person for absolution without having to be concerned over suitable verbalization. In the Oriental Church the sinner "does not consider the offence against God or the objective violation of the law in the act of his sin. His own iniquity is the center of his sorrowful meditation and draws forth his tears; he grieves for having distorted the image of God in his heart." 29 However, the fact re- ~Bernard H~iring, C.Ss.R., The Law o[ Christ, v. 1, (Cork: Mercier Press, 1960), p. 89. = Louis Monden, S.J., Sin, Liberty, and Law (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965), p. 51. ¯ ~* Philippe de Regis, S.J., "Confession and Spiritual Direction in the Oriental Church" in Carra de Vaux Saint-Cyr et al, The Sacrament of Penance, p, 84. mains that auricular confession is still customary in the western Church. Because of the uniqueness of each human per.son, an examination of conscience cannot be taught; its method must be fostered. The principles which follow might serve as a guide by which a sister can develop her own method of self-examination without resorting (o "lists" or confessional aids. At certain times detailed examina-tion lists may be beneficial and should be used. Two such examinationss° are very useful in helping to erad-icate a legalistic mentality concentrating on external detail. These authors have composed penetrating ques-tions which attempt to plumb the depths of the moral personality. A sister would do well to study these lists; then attempt to incorporate this spirit and new direc-tion in her own personal examination. However, slavish adherence to a certain manner of examination is too restrictive and does not leave room for consideration beyond the categories on the printed page. Furthermore, if used, the sister should seek to understand the rea-sons behind certain failings. Many make the mistake of using these lists for the verbalization of confessional matter. Principles Ior a Personal Examination of Conscience: First, the examination ol conscience is based on the New Testament morality of love. At the center of New Testament morality is the person of Jesus Christ. His moral precept which was the fulfillment not the repetition of the Mosaic Law can be summed up in the word "love." And this love was exemplified in His human life: "Jesus went about doing good."al Quite radically, Christ spelled out the moral blueprint for a life of love in the sermon on the mount where He enun-ciated the beatitudes (Mr 5:3-11). Indeed, the remain-der of the sermon on the mount might be consid-ered a further elucidation of these initial principles. Through prayerful meditation each sister could discover the implications of the beatitudes in her ,life; in them are contained the core of Christian commitment,a2 The first beatitude of poverty of spirit could be approached as follows: ~o L. J. Lebret and T. Suavet, "Examination of Conscience for Adults," Crosscurrents, v. 7 (1957), pp. 289-93. P. Liege, O.P., "Toward a New Examination of Consciehce" in Carra de Vaux Saint-Cyr et al, The Sacrament of Penance. 81 Acts 10:38. aUTwo very helpful references on the beatitudes are: William Barclay, The.Plain Man Loolts at the Beatitudes (London: Fontana Books, 1963); P~re Gardeil, O.P., The Holy Spirit in the Christian Li]e (London: Blackfriars, 1953). + 4- 4- Con]essions o~ Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 99~ 4- S~t~r M. S.O.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 998. Some New Testament Relerences Mr. 6:24 Luke 10:38-42 Mr. 6: 25-34 Luke 12: 33--4 I Th 4:11-2 Jn6:27 Col. 3:23 Related Themes (to be applied in one's own situation) The balance and tension between detachment and involvement. Complete trust and faith in God. Openness to God and His Word encountered in the Eucharist, the Scriptures, and in our fellow-man. Recognition and .appreciation of the goodness in created goods. (Over-possessiveness is basically disrespect for the goodness placed there by God.) Acceptance of what we are and have. Utter dependence on God alone, not on self, law, ritual, or institution. Complete abandonment. Poverty according to our religious profession. Personal responsibility for communal witness of poverty. Another fruitful source for an examination based on the law of love is St. Paul's First Episde to the Corinthians, Chap-ter 13, 1-7. Dora Claude Jean-Nesmy has prepared a positive program, meditative in form, for an examination of conscience based on key texts of the New Testament.TM Second, the examination of conscience reflects the per-son's basic options. Moral considerations have been en-riched by religious psychology with the concept of "op-tion"--" A choice, not with respect to a spedfic object, but with respect to the totality of existence, its mean-ing and direction." a4 At some point in his life a per-son acquires a basic orientation which influences either consciously or unconsciously all particularchoices. Lov-. ing God is a conscious choice of God, so much so that all other choices are influenced by this one--the fund-amental option. This permanent underlying tendency of the will is not necessarily expressly formulated; rather it is implicitly embodied in some particular choice. Once made, the fundamental option gradually deepens and pervades a person's whole moral life. Therefore, one's attitudes should be examined with reference to this basic set of the wilh To what extent has my choice of God been effectual in daily actions? Or the converse: To what extent have my daily actions reflected my funda-mental choice of God above all else? In this way, a religious can examine without undue introspection, the basic trends of his life. In addition to the fundamental Christian option, a sister, by her decision so.lemnly to vow total commit-ment to Christ, makes a further option which we shall term the religious option. By this option the religious ~ Jean-Nesmy, Conscience and ConIession, pp. 113-26. ~ Monden, Sin, Liberty and Law, p. sets her will in a particular direction--as a religious and as a 'member of a specific community. Here the basic orientation is influenced by the vows and the spirit of the religious institute. Here, too, the religious option penetrated the whole being of the person. In other con-texts the religious option is often spoken of as iden-tification with one's community. When a sister examines herself with respect tb this religious option, she is con-cerned with how she has effectually lived this fundamen-tal choice. Observing the vows and the rule are here considered not as legalistic ends in themselves but al-ways in reference to this free and deliberate choice. Finally, the sister's examination of conscience should be based upon what we shall call personal option. Here we are speaking of those intense moments of grace, those charisms by which a person approaches God as an 'T' to a "Thou." For Saint Teresa of Lisieux it was the Little Way. Real progess in sanctity is dependent upon faithfulness to the particular way Christ has called each one. The sister's response to this intensely personal call constitutes her personal option. Her examination of con-science then focuses on the extent of her fidelity to this life pattern. The cultal dimension of penance will thus have more meaning for the sister if she realizes that penance is an act by which these three options are re-newed and subsequently deepened. Third, the examination of conscience goes beyond the personal dimension to the social dimension. Sin and guilt can never be considered in isolation, for no man is an island. Therefore, in examining her conscience the sister must be aware of her solidarity with the hu-man community, the Christian community, and her own religious community. She cannot be concerned merely with her own failure but must bear her part of the im-personal and communal guilt of these three levels of so-ciety. One who criticizes the social group is usually not cognizant of the fact that she is really criticizing her-self. Self-criticism is not a bad thing, provided it does not remain sterile words. If a sister is dissatisfied with certain actions or inaction of her community, then she should examine the cause of her dissatisfaction. If the cause is within herself, then it likely can be traced to a weakening of one's own freely chosen option. If such cause truly rests in the social group, then she herself is, in part, responsible to the extent that she is a mem-ber of that group. In this connection Adrienne yon Speyr writes of a certain tension between one's own sin-fulness and the sinfulness of the group which also fails short of Christ's demands: "We confess as members of the Church, the community, and we have to take the ÷ ÷ 4. Contessions ot Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 999 ÷, 4" Sister M~ Den~s, $.0.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS I000 community along with us and include it in the ac-tion." s5 We do not wish to give the impression that an ex-tremely thorough examination of conscience is necessary before each confession. By following one or more of the above principles itis hoped that the sister will be able to construct for .herself an examination of conscience that is realistic, reflects the inner dynamism of her own life', and is open to growth in the Spirit. 4'. The Confessional Encounter Much of the frustration experienced by sisters in the confessional would be eliminated when they are given the ~ opportunity to confess whenever, wherever, and to whomever they wish. In spite of the difficulties posed by the present rite and environmental conditions of private confessions (which will be discussed later), .certain sug-gestions can be made in order to make this encounter a. more meaningful one. Since private confession ob-viously involves two people, the confessor plays an im-portant role in helping or hindering this sacramental encounter. If he regards the hearing of sisters' confes-sions as another task imposed on him, one cannot be sur-prised to find a corresponding attitude among the sis-ters. (a) The Relationship between Con[essor and Penitent. "As priest and penitent become aware that they are en-gaged not in an impersonal inquisition, administration, or treatment, but that together and personally they cele-brate the convei:sion of the sinner and the mercies of God, they will seek to express themselves like human persons." ~6 Detrimental to the interpersonal relation-ship necessary between confessor and penitent is a mech-anistic approach in which the confessor is seen as an absolution dispenser and the penitent as some disem-bodied voice in the dark. Each speak their part, in turn, according to a rigid formula and the ritual is over. Rather, a climate of love should pervade the confes-sional atmosphere with both parties manifesting mutual concern and mutual consideration. What Reuel Howe says :at;out dialogue has great significance for the con-fessional encounter:¯ Each must try to speak honestly out of his own conviction, discipline his subjective feelings, seek patiently to keep aware of the other as another person, and try to keep open to the meaning of everything that happens in the relationshipY ~Von Speyr, Con]ession, the Encounter with Christ in Penance, p. 157. ~ Hindery, "Penance, the Sacrament of Conversion," p. 205. ~ R. Howe, The Miracle oI Dialogue (New York: Seabury, 1965), After the penitent has revealed himself, the confessor, through his words of advice, admits the penitent to share in his insights and his life of prayer. Truly the Psalmist's words apply: "Deep is calling to deep." as In this most sacred of relationships dialogue becomes both communi-cation and communion in the Spirit: As each person speaks and responds honestly to the other, each moves toward the other and includes him. This kind of meeting between man and man cannot occur without an im-plicit meeting between man and God. To really see another is to see the Other, and to really love another is to love the Other.~ (b) Confession of Sins. Because of the natural reti-cence in revealing one's inner state, penitents often depersonalize their confession by resorting to conven-tional phraseology. Formalism rather than authenticity prevails. Quite often the penitent's words and inner feel-angs are only remotely similar. Although one should re-late one's sins and/or failings in a straightforward man-ner, indicating the nature of the act and the reasons which prompted it, the neat formula taught in grade school: "L__.about._.____times." is more often a hin-drance than a help in the confessions of mature women religious. In order to promote real dialogue the peni-tent's manner and tone should be conversational rather than recitative. More important than a detailed list of sins as to number and kind is a revelation of the status of one's heart by endeavoring to reveal the roots and in-terrelations of sins. The confessions of the religious should reveal the inner dynamism which guides her life --the dynamism which springs from her basic options. And since the religious is a member of a certain com-munity, her confession should reflect this fact: "The con-fession of a religious must bring out her failure., as a member of a particular order, whose basic character must come to the fore." 40 However, .there is and can be no panacea for the con-fessional act which should be regarded "not as a de-vice for obtaining juridical forgiveness, but as a peni-tential work which makes a truly humble, authentic, personal sacramental expiation of great value." 41 Truly penitential works are always painful and difficult. (c) The Role of the Confessor. Romano Guardini once referred to love of God and love of neighbor as a "live current completing a circuit from God to people, per- ~s Ps 41-2:7. ~ Howe, The Miracle o! Dialogue, pp. 105-6. ,OVon Speyr, Confession, the Encounter with Christ in Penance, p. 128. ,1 Davis, "Penance." ÷ ÷ ÷ Contessions ot Religious ~Vomen VOLUME 26, 1967' 1001 Si~Wr M. Denis, $.0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1002 son to person, and back to God." 4~ In the sacramental encounter the confessor completes the circuit between God and neighbor. Because the sacrament is a sign the human element in penance cannot be slighted. Unfortunately, the words "involvement" and "open-ness" have tended to become cliches in modern thought and language. But the reality to which these words point is vital to the sacramental encounter. By his words, ges-tures, and attitudes the confessor must become person-ally involved in the sacramental action. Through him the Spirit speaks. In him the sister-penitent experiences a meeting with the forgiving Christ. As one confessor wrote: I think sisters are looking for more than a kind, well-in-formed, understanding confessor. They are looking for a kind, well-informed, understanding confessor filled with the Spirit of God. If there is a problem because some priests are stupid, there is even a greater problem because we are not saints, men 6f prayer, men who really believe in the power of the Spirit working through us and through the power of the Sacrament. The confessor should listen with complete openness, in-terest, and acceptance, striving to glimpse the unique in-dividuality of the other person. In keeping with modern sacramental theology the confessor should be more aware of his role as mediator and witness to the conversion of the penitent and less conscious of his role as judge. To concentrate only on the validity of the sacrament is to lose sight of the riches of the sacrament. In what very practical ways does the confessor help in making the sacrament of penance more meaningful for the sister? 1. By reciting the required prayers, formulae from the heart and not just from the lips. 2. By not rushing the sacramental encounter. 3. By actively listening to her account and/or problems. 4. By manifesting a sincere interest not only in what she says but also in what she is. 5. By a non-judgmental acceptance of her as a unique person whose approach to God is likewise unique, as a woman whose psyche is distinctly feminine, and as a religious whose sincere desire is to grow in Christ. 6. By offering words of enlightenment as well as words of encouragement. 7. By presenting an opportunity for her to open up but without being too inquisitive. 8. By helping her to delve into the motivation for her Quoted in Thomas Radloff, S.J., "Interpersonal Relationships," REvmw FOR RELmIOUS, V. 21 (1962), p. 547. sins and faults, not being satisfied with a mere cata-loging of sins. 9. By enabling her to see the workings of the Spirit in her life. 10. By endeavoring to embody not only the personal and interpersonal dimensions of penance but also the ecclesial and cuhal dimensions. 11. By creating the atmosphere for ~uitful dialogue in the confessional. 12. By striving to remove all vestiges of formalism. 13. By relating to the penitent as a person to a person. A word of caution is in order here. As indicated previ-ously in this study, the problems and their respective solutions surrounding the confessions of women relig-ious are interrelated and interdependent. It is apparent that the confessor cannot exercise his role properly un-less certain other structures and attitudes discussed in this study are modified. (d) Spiritual Direction. In speaking o[ spiritual direc-tion in the confessional, we are referring to the exhorta-tion or counsel offered by the confessor following the penitent's manifestation of conscience. The distinction between the sacrament of penance and spiritual direc-tion, even in the narrow sense described above, must always be maintained. The role of the confessor qua confessor is to set free from sin; the role of the confessor as director is to foster growth in Christ. Although the primary purpose of penance is the forgiveness of sins with absolution being the central act of the confessor, nevertheless, words of counsel traditionally have been an important and expected adjunct to the sacrament. In the age of assembly-line confessions, of necessity, con-vent confessors tend to minimize or neglect this area of pastoral guidance, but the need for spiritual guidance remains. The confessional is usually not the place for detailed and protracted spiritual direction, although the need may be discovered in the confessional. When speaking words of counsel to the penitent, the confessor must be conscious of his instrumentality. The manner in which he speaks is uniquely his, marked by his own personality, and is a self-revelation of his own life of prayer; but the content of his message comes from the Holy Spirit: His words, while uttered in the Spirit, must also convey his own personal involvement, his knowledge, his designs. He must manifest the fact that he acts along with the Spirit, and not speak in a languid, indifferent manner . The priest is there present at a process which makes a sinner into a saint, and his words must serve to accompany this transformation, in fact to lead the sinner to it; consequently, they must be so tender and + + + Conyessions o~ Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 1003 yet so telling, so penetrating, that the change is effected simultaneously with their utterance.'~ In proffering counsel to the sister-penitent the confes-sor should avoid two extremes: first, basing his exhorta-tion only on the weekly liturgy, becoming impersonal and contributing to routine reception; and second, re-ferring only to the matter just confessed, becoming sub-jective and unduly isolating the penitent's situation. Rather, he should seek to combine these two avenues by first commenting on the penitent's confession objec-tively, pointing out aspects and motives unnoticed by the penitent, always with a view to enabling the sister to draw practical conclusions herself; then, by relatir~g the penitent's situation to the broader spectrum of the Church, showing its relevancy to a point of doctrine or the current liturgy. The sister-penitent then sees her-self in the proper perspective of an individual before God and as a member of the Christian community. Even though spiritual direction in the usual sense of the terms is advisable for most sisters, the plain fact re-mains that suitable directors are few and far between. The confessor should be aware that, for many, the con-fessional exhortation, however brief, is the only source of personal advice. Therefore, his words should be chosen with care, knowing that the sister-penitent has come to intensify her union with Christ by the sacra-mental deed and its accompanying intimate personal as-sistance. ÷ ÷ Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. REVIEW ~oR REI.IGIOt~S 1004 5. Environment On the subject of the confessional environment, one confessor wrote: "It's difficult to experience the life-giving power of the sacrament in a vertical casket." Practically half of the priests and sisters who cited the environment as a problem wished improvements in the traditional confessional; the other half desired an open confrontation in a counseling-type room. Any improvements or changes in present confessional structures should reflect the theology of the sacrament, respect the penitent's right to anonymity, insure com-plete privacy, and provide for ordinary human com-fort- materially and psychologically. Women today, especially sisters, are very sensitive to their position in the Church. They should have the same right as men to confess wherever they wish and not be re-stricted to places approved for the confessions of women. Such rules do not apply to personal spiritual direction, oftentimes more intimate than the confessional encoun- ~Von Speyr, Confession, the Encounter with Christ in Penance, pp. 209-10. ter. Sometimes the sister would like to receive the sacra-ment of penance during a period of spiritual counsel-ling, but present legislation prevents this outside the approved confessional. When an individual sister desires to go to confession, she should be given the freedom to confess elsewhere, as for example, in a parlor. An ideal environment for the convent confessional would be a separate counseling room--bright, cheery, and airy--with a less formal atmosphere where one could go with openness and joy. Provision could be made for those who desire anonymity by having the tradi-tional confessional screen on one side of the room. On the other side, comfortable chairs could be provided for those who wish to see the priest directly (see diagram below). Thus both priest and penitent could converse in a normal tone without fear of being overheard. The merely psychological effect of space and light would strengthen the sacramental significance of renewal, of resurrection. Proposed Confessional-Room (Not drawn to scale) Left Side: Arrangement for an open confrontation with desk and chairs. Right Side: Arrangement for anonymous confession: (1) Screen (2) Confessor (3) Penitent. Since the ideal is usually far from the real, present convent confessionals should be examined carefully by the sisters concerned. The solutions to these problems are contained in the very recognition and acknowledg-ment of the problem, as indicated in Part I of this study. Where there is darkness, let there be light; where there are .poor acoustics, let there be soundproofing; where there is a curtain on the grill, let it be optional. The ingenuity of the sisters who use the confessional, not necessarily the architect who designed it, will pro-duce the most practical suggestions. Most sisters will answer any request for suggested improvements like the Sister who wrote: "Just give me a paper and pencil and a ruler, and I'll show you." 6. Rite Since most changes in the rite of the sacrament are beyond the scope of either the priest-confessor or the ÷ ÷ ÷ Contessions ot Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 1005 ÷ ÷ Sister M. $.0.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1006 sister-penitent, we shall discuss the present private rit-ual, a communal ritual permitted by current legisla-tion, and finally, proposals for a communal ritual not yet permitted by Church legislation. The guidelines have been established by Vatican II: "The rite and for-mulas for the Sacrament of Penance are to be revised so that they give more luminous expression to both the nature and effect of the sacrament." 44 (a) Private Celebration of Penance. In October, 1966, the Bishops of Canada in a statement on the Liturgy of Penance wrote: "Individual or private celebration of the sacrament of Penance still retains all of its value: through personal contact and through the attitude of the priest, the penitent can truly experience the mercy of God." 45 Although the present rite leaves much to be desired in its signification of the various dimensions of penance, nevertheless, the penitent and confessor can seek to embody the significance of penance in mean-ingful words and actions. A slavish recitation of the "Bless me, Father . " formula only begets routine and is a hindrance to dialogue with the confessor. The peni-tent should simply ask the confessor for his blessing that she may have the grace to express her sinful condi-tion before God and His Church. The priest should wait until this request is made before giving his blessing with sincerity of expression. Then the penitent states the interval of time since" her last confession and any necessary information regarding her state in life before beginning the revelation of her state before God. Father Hindery suggests that the penitent endeavor to express the ecclesial and cultal aspect of the sacrament by be-ginning one's confession of sins with the words: "I con-fess to Almighty God and to the whole Church through you, Father, that I am a sinner and that God's mercy in renewing my. conversion is worthy of great praise." 40 If the penitent keeps in mind the value of her act as a personal conversion to God, and the intensification of her union with the community, she will have less diffi-culty in expressing herself. The confessor then offers a suitable exhortation bearing on the penitent's confes-sion, emphasizing the importance of this act as an en-counter with Christ. Instead of the usual three Hail Marys, some confessors are asking their penitents to do an act of kindness toward someone less fortunate. The penance, a means of reparation, should bear some apparent relation to the sins confessed. In some areas " Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 72. ~"The Liturgy of Penance," a mimeographed statement from the Canadian Hierarchy, Ottawa, October, 1966. ~ Hindery, "Penance, the Sacrament of Conversion," p. 207. the confessor asked the penitent to suggest a suitable penance for herself. (b) Present Communal Celebration. Earlier in this pa-per we recommended that communal penance be cele-brated at regular intervals. Under present legislation where both confession and absolution must be private and individual, communal celebration would be more meaningful from the ecclesial-and cultal viewpoint but would not relieve the overburdened confessor. For greater effectiveness these communal celebrations should be brief, consisting of a few opening words by the con-fessor, a carefully selected reading from Scripture, a brief homily bearing on the Scripture and the sacrament of penance, the singing of an appropriate Psalm, the redta-tion of the Confiteor (which is an admirable communal acknowledgment of one's sinfulness), a kiss of peace and mutual reconciliation, and individual confession and ab-solution. The kiss of peace and a suitable dosing hymn may be delayed until after the individual confessions are heard, particularly in a small group. (c) Proposed Communal Celebration. It is one of the main theses of this study that the liturgy of the sacra-ment needs to be completely revised so that it will an-swer real needs and become a vital sign: "The sacra-ments are immutable in their substance, for it was Christ who fixed once for all the central core. But the outer shell can vary according to the needs of time and place." 47 To this end we propose that sisters have ac-cess to a communal celebration of penance in which the individual ~onfession of sins be optional and be not necessary for the reception of the sacrament. Those who wish to confess privately should have the opportu-nity to do so at this or another time. For this celebra-tion, which could be more elaborate because of few or no private confessions, the celebrant would prepare a very timely homily from which the sisters could derive spiritual help. A public examination of conscience, directed by the confessor, with time for private exami-nation might be also included. Absolution would be communal. The solemn rite of the sacrament of penance, al-though archaic and omitted from recent editions of the Roman Pontifical, was rich in expressing the unity between God, the Church, and each Christian. A com-pletely communal celebration would witness to the sol-idarity of the Christian community. By her very pres-ence the sister proclaims her sinful condition before God, before the Church, and before her community. Together. with her community she becomes recondled to ,7 Carra de Vaux Saint-Cyr, The Sacrament o] Penance, p. 4. ÷ ÷ ÷ Conyessions ot Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 1007 God and to her sisters whom she. may have offended. As a corporate body they worship God in celebrating the sacrament of penance by praising His m~rcy. In the National Catholic Reporter Father Hindery lists six advantages of communal penance which stresses: 1. Less emphasis on our own sorrow and a greater re-alization of the forgiving action of Christ. 2. Greater expression of sorrow by an awareness of one's solidarity in sin and in the sorrow of others. 3. An intensification of penance as a reconciliation with God. 4. An accent on the full liturgical or worshiping dimen-sion of penance. 5. A restoration of Christian tradition which was prac-tically universal until the year 589 A.D. 6. An alleviation of the problem of rote and haste which breeds formalism.4s One can only hope that liturgical advances will has-ten the day when communal celebration of penance is possible in the manner outlined above. Theologically, there is very little problem with a communal absolution and the dispensation of individual confession (where grave sin has not occurred). To worship God publicly with our fellow Christians as a sinner and precisely in this character of a sinner is one of the most authentic acts we can perform. It is not sufficient to know and to realize the various theological dimensions of the sacra-ment of penance; one must be able to experience them effectually in a truly meaningful communal celebration. Slsger M. Denis, S.O~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1008 CONCLUSION In the introduction to his book, Conscience and Con- ]ession, Dom Claude Jean-Nesmy included a comment which applies equally well to. the impetus of this en-tire study on the confessions of women religious: "One cannot just choose to ignore the very frequent, precise and distressing complaints about the difficulty of con-fessing and about the deplorable conditions in which this sacrament is sometimes administered." 40 In order to ascertain the extent and seriousness of these complaints as objectively as possible a survey-questionnaire was sent to a crosscountry sampling of priest-confessors and sis-ter- penitents. That there were problems~serious prob-lems-- was established beyond doubt. The common de-nominator of these problems seemed to be a deadening routine. Both confessors and sisters indicated that lack ~s Roderick Hinder),, O.S.B., "Communal Penance in the Renewal of the Sacrament--Towards Fullness of Sign," National Catholic Reporter, v. 2 (October 19, 1966), p. 6. ~0 Jean-Nesmy, Conscience and Con]ession, p. ix. of freedom, time problems, insufficient training, unsuit-able examination of conscience, difficulty in confessing, an impersonal relationship, the confessor's lack of un-derstanding, spiritual direction, the environment, and rite were all contributory factors to this all-pervasive routine. The obvious interrelation of these problems calls for solutions which are likewise interrelated. In turn, inter-related solutions demand cooperation of all persons con-cerned from the sister-penitent to the priest-confessor to the bishop responsible for the pastoral care of his people. If the fundamental problem in the devotional con-fessions of religious is routine, then the basic solution is to counteract routine by bringing about a more mean-ingful celebration and reception of this sacrament. But a mere change in rite and externals is not sufficient. There must be a change in attitude. For the individual sister, this calls for a sound theo-logical knowledge of the nature and effects of penance. Her sacramental training must continue beyond grade school preparation for first confession and should be cen-tered on her state as a religious. In her examination of conscience and the subsequent confession of sins she will endeavor to reflect the inner dynamism of her life, not merely taking refuge in a stereotyped, deper-sonalized multiplicity of unrelated minutiae. The confessor's attitude toward administering the sac-rament of penance in general and toward each sis-ter- penitent in particular has a great effect on the meaningfulness of the sacramental encounter. Indeed, his role is so important, that should all other circum-stances be unfavorable, his openness, understanding, and helpfulness will result in much benefit for the sis-ter- penitent. His brief exhortatory remarks will be per-sonal enough to apply directly to the confession just heard, yet universal enough to lift the penitent out of herself into the wider perspective of the liturgy. Both participants should be aware of one another as unique persons striving for the fullness of the Christian life. From a healthy interpersonal relationship on the human level, both confessor and penitent will realize a personal encounter with the forgiving Christ. The sacra-ment, though of divine institution, is a human sign. Three factors, the rite, the environment and freedom of access, at the present time beyond the immediate con-trol of either the individual confessor or the individual penitent, contribute greatly to a more significant cele-bration of penance. The present environment should be a more effective symbol of life than of death. In ad-dition to a redesigned confessional room, which would + + + Ctmless~ns of Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 1009 allow for either anonymous confession Or an open con-frontation, the sister or any woman should not be lim-ited to "approved places." As the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (paragraph 72) noted, the present rite needs to embody visibly and experientially the theolog-ical dimensions of penance. The present crisis can be traced to certain deficiencies, which have been perpetrated for centuries, in .the ad-ministration and reception of penance. In turn, these deficiencies on the practical level can be traced to cer-tain limitations in theological thought stemming from the seventh century when the notion of the sinner's rec-onciliation with the ecclesia was de-emphasized by an overstress on his personal reconciliation to God. However, the first step in any solution to the many problems surrounding the confessions of women reli-gious is a rescinding of compulsion--either by law or by custom--to confess at stated intervals, in a stated place, to an appointed person. When sisters are given the re-sponsibility concerning their own sacramental needs, much of the routine and dissatisfaction will disappear both for the frustrated penitent and overburdened con-lessor. It was the ardent hope of the authors of this study that the su~estions and recommendations contained therein will not remain sterile but will be openly discussed by those concerned and followed by concrete action. Vati-can II is not over; it has just begun. The urgency ex-hibited by the conciliar documents is not limited to the hierarchy but is directed toward the People of God--- collectively and individually. Effective reform must be preceded by objective recognition, honest acknowledg-ment and open discussion of the problem. Then posi-tive suggestions will be fruitful: It we labor to re-establish the proper perspectives., then Penance, far from seeming a tiresome task which must be post~, poned to the last possible moment, will reveal itself as one of t~he most ei~cacious and most constant means by which we can be restored to a purifying and life-giving contact with the Church, with Christ, and with God.~° ~ Jean-Nesmy, Conscience and Conlession, p. xvii. $t~ter M. Denis, $.0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS lOlO ELSIE GIBSON Protestant Women in Religion Catholic sisters and Protestant women minist.ers ten sense an underlying kinship when they become ac-quainted on college campuses or in dialogue groups,. Both have vowed .themselves to the service of God through Christ and the Church. True, the promises are different but the central intent is the same. Is there any similarity between our sense of vocation and that which moves nuns and priests to the religious life? How do our churches receive and direct our aspirations? What is our daily work? To find answers I sent a questionnaire to apprbxi-mately 300 ordained women most of whom belong to Churches engaged in the Consultation on Church Un-ion. There were no check lists, no multiple choice que-ries. My purpose was not to gather statistics but rather to gain a knowledge of persons, to discover what their experience has been and is, to learn what they are thinking today. One hundred fifty-eight responded to the questions. In addition, ten letters were received ex-plaining why the recipients were unable or unwilling to respond. Replies came from thirty-two states and. two from Canada. Differences do not run along denomina-tional lines but are within denominations. Generaliza-tions based on such an approach are, of course, impos-sible; nevertheless,'tentative impressions are made, and it is these which I shall try to convey in this article. The. first question was: (a) Why did you go into the ministry? (b) Why did you choose to be ordained? Please answer a, b, or both. Almost everyone answered both inquiries. I have grouped the replies loosely without trying to force their meaning into a preconceived mold. They over.lap and in a number of instances could have been placed in more than one category. ÷ ÷ ÷ Elsie (Mrs. Royal J.) Gibson lives at 197 Oxford Street; Hartford, Connecti-cut 06105. VOLUME 26, 1967 lOll 4" 4" "+ Elsie Gibson REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1012 1. Many went into the ministry because the Church was their life. They had never considered a vocation apart from the Church. "My earliest remembrance was in the direction of the ministry," says one. "My father was a circuit-rider then, and my mother helped him, teaching and preaching herself. My favorite game was playing deaconess (a Methodist order). Church work was as natural as breathing." Another reflects, "As I see it now, my call to the ministry was implicit in my coming to know God when I was eleven. At any rate, through my.high school years, I haunted the church so much that when I came home from some event I was greeted, 'Well, did you lock the church tonight?' It was a beauti-ful building to haunt, and the people I met there were excellent folks for a teen-ager to idealize." A third says that she was influenced by parents who were active church people: "Mother was Superintendent of the Pri-mary Department for 25 years and I worked with her when I was a teen-ager. Grandfather was a Presbyterian minister and missionary among Indians. I wanted to go, into foreign missionary service but was not accepted health-wise." "1 played minister rather than dolls, nurse or teacher," says another who never thought seriously of any occupation save the ministry. 2. A larger number trace their motivation to a "call." This word covers a variety of meanings and not every woman explained her use of it. One terse reply said merely, "God's call.'" The majority, however, wrote a paragraph or more. "Originally I went to seminary with the intention of becoming a director of religious education. During the two years required in the School of Religious Education, the call to the parish ministry gradually began to germinate. I had several deeply re-ligious experiences during this~ time which had more to do, I think, with the [ellowship with other students than with the actual courses I was taking. I fought hard against any idea of going into the parish ministry, know-ing that there would be a great deal of opposition from my family and having my own particular antipathy toward women ministers! Nevertheless, by the time 1 received the M.A. in Christian Education, I had de-termined to stay on an additional two years to earn a B.D. I still had in mind the possibility of the teaching nfinistry, and how I actually wound up as a parish min, ister I really do not know. It just happenedl As each opportunity has presented itself to me, I have taken this as an indication of the ways in which God would have me serve, and have always found such service to be very satisfying to me." Another offers this interpretation: "I went into the ministry because I felt a definite call from God. I would like to explain that I am a member of the Friends Church, and we do not ordain ministers. Our belief is that only God ordains: it is a work of the Divine and man cannot ordain. Thus, according to our Friends Faith and Practice which is similar to the statements of doctrinal beliefs and organizational practices of other denominations, a minister of the Gospel is 'recorded.' Actually the process of recording of a minister in the Friends Church is equivalent to that of ordination in other denominations." An interesting underscoring of her point is found on page 147 of Faith and Practice, sent to me by another Friends' pastor: "And, since the Friends' concept of the recording process is the Meet-ing's recognition of one's Christian character and grace in the ministry, it appears quite outside the Quaker spirit and temper for any one to 'ask' to be recorded a minister! Such a request would seem to be fairly clear evidence to a Monthly Meeting on Ministry and Coun-sel that the time had not yet arrived for action." So, even in a Society as free as the Friends, it is the Church that decides. A Disciples of Christ minister writes: "I think I can say that, although I'm convinced I was called of God, it was through a series of circumstances over a number of years that led me to the final decision to enter the min-istry. I'm sure that if I had been a man, friends in the church would have suggested it much sooner." This explanation is given by a woman in the United Church of Christ: "I did not intend to become ordained when I sought my B.D. but the urging of the minister under whom I worked and the Dean (of the Seminary) made me think of it and I finally got to the point when I had to say 'Yes' rather hoping ! would not be ac-cepted by the association as I was not going into the pastoral ministry. But they--and my advisers--seemed to think I should find a rich pastoral ministry on the college campus and I must say I have. Chaplains are usually men and both men and women at times need a woman for consultation, confession, reassurance." Others said, "An experience of personal revelation too dramatic to relate in a questionnaire," and "a strange compulsion which I never quite understood" but which "as I look back on it now, I believe was the way that God 'called' me." An element of resistance to God's call runs through a number of the responses I received. Choices which in-volve risk are easy for no one. Women heading toward the ministry may face family disapproval or resistance on the part of the church and society with corresponding economic pressures. Years must be given to education with little assurance of the rewards that usually fol- 4" + ,4- Protestant Women in Religion VOLUME 26, 1967 1013 Elsie Gibson REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1014 low such effort. So it is not. surprising that crucial de-cisions were postponed. One woman, moved by a ~ollege course in New Tes-tament to devote herself to the Church, did volunteer so-cial work and served as pastor's assistant. She then took nurses' training and spent a year in Public Health nurs-ing which "confirmed me in the conviction that the basic and most urgent need of all sorts and conditions of men is spiritual, and made me want to spend my life in seeking to minister to that need through the church." She is now a pastor. After serving ten years as a professional worker in both YWCA anal Girl Scouts, another relates that she "felt a real need to combine my professional skill in Camping with nay concern for Christian Education. It was recommended to me by both local and national" leadership of my denomination that I should seek, there-fore, the BD degree instead of the MRE." One who was working on her doctorate in mathe-matics turned instead to the ministry with this account: "There were two elements in this choice: the feeling of the need of people for what the Gospel could offer and a definite sense of 'call.' Without this sense of call, I'm not sure that I could have persevered. This has been a basic continuing element and accompanied by just as certain a sense of being guided. Both are hard to de-scribe. They do not make for any constant self-assured certainty on the conscious level but rather for a deep sense of urgency and commitment." 3. The third group makes no mention of a divine call but possibly the same summons has come through the voices of the world's need: "Desiring to go into the ministry but knowing my inadequacy to be a pioneer I delayed taking this step until I was almost fifty years, old. I delayed even after I graduated from Seminary. Then I was asked to preach in an isolated situation where i was needed. The experience of preaching con-firmed my belief that I ought to become a minister. Ordination naturally followed this." Another "felt drawn to full time Christian vocation and after a summer in the mountains of Virginia I saw a need for women ministers. The parish never had a trained minister because it could not support a man and family. I also observed the work of an Episcopal deaconess in the area and she did the practical work of a clergyman save for the sacraments." A pastor in Arkansas was "impelled by an overwhelm-ing desire to win souls for Christ and to minister to the needy--the sick and unfortunate. After some very ac-tive years I found it inconvenient to send for a man, minister to administer the Sacraments, to baptize and marry my parishoners. I have ministered in some more or less isolated areas and sometimes had to wait far be-yond reasonable time to get the help I needed," This woman, retired now after fifty-six years in the ministry received a certificate of honor from her denomination. "I have worked in the backwoods areas where I have assisted in making caskets for the dead and have been by the side of the doctors when the babies arrived," she recalls. At the age of seventy-eight she is preaching in churches that would otherwise be without services and making hospital calls where people confront major sur-gery. A number in this group were pressed into service dur-ing the war years by denominational officials who knew their gifts and potentiality. There are no typical replies, for every situation was different. 4. The vocations of man and woman sometimes merge when a couple meet in seminary and decide to marry. If the responses I have received are at all characteristic, this does not mean the disappearance of the woman's vocation though it may be so interpreted because she is not always listed in an independent position after the marriage. A United Church of Christ woman says: "My husband and I were ordained together in the first parish we served after leaving Seminary. I have never intended to b~ an ordained minister. But at that time it seemed to us that we wanted our ministry to be a partnership in service. We felt we could serve most effectively together if we were both ordained. I believe it has proved to be so." This woman has not been "employed" since her marriage. Their four children are either engaged in or preparing for full-time Christian service. A unique reply comes from a Baptist minister's wife who had had experience as assistant pastor in one church and as youth director in another: "I entered the pastor-ate because my husband was going to travel in his new position (denominational fund raising) and we had three small children whom I could not take around the coun-try, moving every couple of months." She was asked to remain in the church to which she was giving interim service and has been there thirteen years. The three chil-dren were in school at the time the decision had to be made. Their little son told his teacher: "My father is a preacher of funds; my mother is a preacher of the Gos-pel." 5. Those whom I shall include in this group have gone into the ministry through suffering--physical, in-tellectual, or spiritual. Two, giving specialized minis-tries, are victims of cerebral palsy. Others have been through agnosticism, loss of faith, or questionings so in-sistent they entered seminary to try to find answers a~ad ÷ '÷ "÷ Protestant Women in Religion VOLUME 26, 1967 1015 ÷ ÷ Elsie Gibson REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1016 ended with a vocation. Significant work is being done by widow~. One, now in her eighties, was widowed with five children at the age of thirty. Although she was a chnrch member, she found no consolation in her re-ligion; but she was slowly led, thr6ugh a combination of wise pastoral guidance and despair of her ability to go on, to such confrontation with Christ that she became a person of vital faith. In gratitude she offered her serv-ices, almost on impulse, to a home missionary of her church. She was appalled when opportunity became con-crete but has been outstanding in her devotion to New England rural churches. She took them into the work of the world long before The Secular City appeared and has been the recipient of four honorary degrees. "An early test came when she was called in the night by a parishoner whose wife had been murdered. Her minis-try in this circumstance had to be given simultaneously to the father of the man who, after committing the mur-der, took his own life. Another widow with four grown children is giving full time as a trained chaplain in two large city hos-pitals. Still another is teaching chaplain and minister in a home for unwed mothers. Other 'widows, whose hus-bands were ministers, have finished the necessary train-ing and are pastors of churches. II ~e have seen some of the factors that influence Prot-estant women to devote their lives to the Church. Since religious orders in Protestantism are small and limited to a very 'few denominations, they do not present an alternative to ordination to the woman who desires a full ministry. But how do churches receive a woman's Wish for ordination that she may serve more freely? The (then) Congregational Church met this question in an acute form in 18't7 when Antoinette Brown faced the authorities of Oberlin Theological Seminary ~ith her desire to become a candidate for the ministry. They' were horrified. Armed with unflagging courage and such biblical texts as Joel 2:28 (". I will pour out my spirit on all flesh; your sons and your daughters shall proph-esy," reaffirmed by Peter at Pentecost), she persevered and was ordained in 1853. The free churches have long recognized the ministry of women although the propor-tion of women to men remains small. When the Evangelical and Reformed Church entered into conversations with the Congregational Christian Churches, prior to the formation of the United Church of Christ, it had no ordained women. A woman of E. and R. background writes: "I felt drawn to the ministry as powerfully as an object is drawn by a magnet. I wanted to be ordained and enter into the full-time .min-istry, but. I believed our church would not ordain women., because there were none ordained . One of my professors whom I deeply admired and respected opposed ordination for women." She married a minister and served as fully as possible for ten years following her graduation from Seminary because "I was interested in serving the Lord and not in promoting ordination for women." When she learned that the absence of or-dained women in her denomination was due to the fact that none had applied rather than to the Church's re-fusal to ordain them, she made application, was ac-cepted without difficulty, and serves as associate pastor with her husband. Another woman, the first to be or-dained in a different denomination, says: ."My purpose in seeking ordination was to enable me to serve in and through the church better.'. It was only a means rather than an end." The Methodist Church, always strongly committed to the effort to recognize gifts bestowed by the Holy Spirit, faced problems with its women in the early twentieth century. They had been seeking an outlet for what the Spirit seemed to be saying within them. Due to its polity, the Methodist Church faced a more complicated problem than the free churches had confronted. But in 1919 women were granted local preachers' licenses and in 1924 provision was made for their ordination. They could not be admitted to an annual conference, how-ever, so they were not assured of placement in a local church. In 1919 the American Association of Women Ministers was formed under the leadership of Miss M. Madeline Southard and Mrs. Ella L. Kroft, both Metho-dists. An article by Miss Southard which appeared in a 1923 issue of The Woman's Pulpit says: "The original purpose .of our Association was to bring women who preach into fellowship with each other . Another pur-pose that developed as we planned and prayed was to secure equal opportunity for women in the ecclesiasti-cal world . The third purpose as stated in our con-stitution is to encourage young women whom God has called to preach." This group, including women ofo six-teen denominations with "others applying," refused to impose rigid doctrinal or educational tests for mem-bership although a large proportion of its women were college graduates, some with master's and doctor's de-grees. They also refused to make distinctions based on race. Men have been welcomed as associate members and are free to attend any meetings. The Association is small today, including only a frac-tion of ordained clergywomen. There are a number of reasons for this. Women of the nineteenth and early 4. 4. 4. Protestant Women in Religion VOLUME 26, 1967 1017 Elsie Gibson REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1018 twentieth centurihs were crusaders~for suffrage, tem-perance, abolition of slavery, and ecclesiastical status. The mo~lern woman does not want to enlist in the war of'the sexes; she wants cooperation with men in church and society. W. A. Visser 't Hooft, former general secre-tary of the World Council of Churches, has put it well: "The reason for the emancipation of women in the Church is not the barren fight for the r~ghtg of women, but the fruitful discovery of their spiritual gifts, of their full creative contribution." 1 The old image lingers in the Association but is changing under the influence of women, young and old, who see the new picture. Though probably not a member of the Association (I do not know), one woman expressed the new attitude of her sister ministers' thus: "I am a rather unorthodox member of the clan because I do not class myself as a woman minister, but as a minister. Woman minister seems as artificial to me as negro minister, tall minister, blonde minister, etc:" M~mbership in Methodist annual conferences was not opened to women until 1956 which means that they were not assured of placement until that time. To have this full participation, however, they must meet stiffer educational requirements. Some women are so well es-tablished and have been so successful in pastorates that they do not need to rise above the classification of "ap, proved supplies"; younger women will doubtless be go-ing on to become full members of annual conferences. The Presbyterian Church did not admit women to the preaching ministry at all until 1956. They were permitted to become ruling elders before that time: So ordained Presbyterian women are still having pioneer experience. One says that, in her first year as pastor of a church, "two situations were difficult: out of towners who Came to a local cemetery for interment preferred a man of another denomination to a Presbyterian woman pastor." Also, "a girl of my own congregation who was consulting about a wedding confessed she would not 'feel married' unless a man did itll We arranged with a Congregational minister. We both had a part in the service tho I would have preferred to be excused. The long-term results were good, however. The father later became a trustee of the church during my pastorate." She emphasizes the need for patience and t~ct during the period of transition and has had many gratifying ex-periences along with the difficulties which were un-avoidable. Another who, as an associate pastor was to share all 1 Quoted by Elsie Thomas Culver, Women in the Worl~t o[ Reli-gion (Garden City: Doubleday, 1967), p. 212. responsibilities with the senior minister, remarks: ". parishoners were somewhat nervous about a woman's preaching. I was, therefore, in the parish eleven months before preaching my first sermon. However, once I had preached there was no longer any opposit!on and even considerable enthusiasm about my preaching. There was salary discrimination against me as a woman. I regret to report that this continues in my present job." It is one thing for a denomination to permit the or-dination of women, but it is quite another thing for them to find assured acceptance in a local church. So-cial and psychological attitudes vary according to re-gion and according to the economic and educational background of the parish. A denominational official can recognize a woman's gifts and ability, and give her his full backing.He cannot, however, save her from pain-ful experiences growing out of the immaturity of those she goes to serve. It is for this reason that seminaries feel obliged to caution women against placing their hopes too high. One who teaches religion in a college says that the Pres-ident of her seminary told her she "would have more satisfying opportunities to preach (as a guest) if I be-came a college professor than if I went into the parish ministry." She found this true and others indicate the same advice and outcome. Those responding to the questionnaire, however, have been drawn to many types of vocation within the min-istry. Some are called to educational work and are easily guided into a teac.hing position. Others, wanting only to be useful, can adapt ~themselves to varied situations. But there are those who feel they must become pastors at any cost. "I was told in Seminary," one such a per-son says, "that because I was a woman, I could never expect to be called to a church of any size. I did not expect to, realized this, and have been content with churches under two hundred. Observation has shown that there are hundreds of men in the same sized churches and smaller. I cannot complain of the treat-ment I have received." Another says: "Since I had a real sense of mission I did not mind taking a small church and working at making it into a strong one. This has been my pleasure several times." No one admires self-pity and least of all in a servant of Christ, Many Christian men are trying to make it possible for women to accomplish the .work to which they believe God is calling them. A number of women voice their appreciation of this fact, one stating: "I have always accepted the fact that, being a woman, I ~vould not have a chance to serve in the 'desirable' parishes, but that has not bothered me, since I am + 4. 4. Protestant Women in Religion VOLUME 26, 1967 1019 ÷ ÷ ÷ Elsie Gibson REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1020 somewhat missionary minded anyway. I have found that there are a small minority of men, in the ministry and in administrative positions, who have the same crusad-ing feeling about women's rights in the ministry that I have about civil rights, and I have been fortnnate in that one or two have usually been around to fight my battles for me." The mores of any society yield slowly; and while men are doing the fighting, women must exercise patience un-der scrutiny at all levels in the Church as their efforts are watched and examined and the fruit of their work evaluated. "I think it is by performance rather than pressure that women will come to be accepted as min-isters," one of them says, summing up the situation; and another observes: "Since my ordination I have found that generally speaking if one goes about one's work without fuss about 'difference' one is generally respected and usually accepted." III We turn now from the motivations and opportunities of these women to the work they are actually doing. First, a summary of the questionnaires. Eighty-0ne are serving local churches, 52 as pastors, 13 as associate or assistant pastors, one as nfinister to youth and 15 as ministers of education. Eight hold posts in Christian ed-ucation on the state or national level. Two hold execu-tive posts related to women's work. One serves as as-sociate minister of a conference. Eight teach: one is in a private school, serving also as chaplhin; four teach re-ligion at the college level; three teach in seminary (two other respondents having retired from seminary posi-tions). Two are full-time chaplains. Three are evange-lists. Five have gone back to school for further graduate work, one being in her last quarter of clinical pastoral training. Seven have a writing ministry, four of these having passed retirement age. Sixteen are wives whose work it is hard to classify because of its variety (married women also appear in earlier categories). Sixteen are re-tired, some being quite advanced in years but all re-maining as active as possible in interim and supply preaching, writing, and small group ministries. Seven are serving in institutions closely allied to the Church. Two might be said to have left the ministry but are still within the Church. The work of a Protestant pastor differs considerably from that of a priest. Baptism and Holy Communion are the only sacraments in most Protestant Churches and they require a rather small proportion of a minister's time. Weddings and funerals, not usually associated by Protestants with a sacramental ministry, do not take much time except in large churches with inadequate staffs. So the Protestant pastor is engaged in study and sermon preparation, conducting worship, pastoral call-ing, administrative work, and community service. He tries to visit the sick and to introduce the Church to newcomers of his own or perhaps no denomination in the locality, especially when such persons have appeared at a Church service or their need has been called to his attention by a parishoner who knows of their desire to see a minister. He may do counseling at the Church. He spends hours with lay persons who hold responsible positions--Sunday School teachers, deacons and deacon-esses, trustees, youth sponsors, and others. He works also with small groups meeting for Bible study and prayer, leadership education, and youth activities. This would comprise the week's schedule for a woman min-ister also. Reading between the lines of my responses, I dis-cover that eight women are supporting themselves by secular employment and doing as much of the above work as possible in the churches they serve. One clerks in a grocery; another is visiting lecturer in science at a university. Teaching, nursing, and social work are men-tioned. The majority of pastors, however, are giving full time to the Church. Protestant people prefer the ministry of a married man if they can support him, so most women minis-ters will be found in struggling churches or churches which find it hard to get married ministers for other reasons. One writes: "I believe that there is a place in Protestantism for a celibate ministry. There are parishes in which a single person can work where it would not be practical for a family to live. The parish I now sei've is one that has a very hard time keeping a minister; it is a depressed coal mining area where ministers' wives do not want to bring up their children, and I don't blame them--I would not bring up children here either; but since I am single I have been able to stay on a small salai'y and do a work that really needed to be done." In 1941, a Methodist bishop asked a young woman to go and see if she could revive a church which was dis-integrating. She found a building with every window broken and no heating plant. On the pulpit was a note: "There are no members and no money. Here's the key." A school official told her: "Go back where you came. Even by police statistics it is a frightful area." She called from door to door and faced an empty church for four Sundays. Then two women came, bringing their children, and she started a Sunday School. At the end of fourteen years she was able to give up secular employ, ment; the church could support her. Now, after 26 + 4. + Protestant Women in Religion VOLUME 26, 1967 1021 + + + Elsie Gibson REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1022 years, she serves the same church with a membership of 1,094. It has sent out one missionary, four ministers, has another graduating from seminary and still others looking toward full-time Christian work. Her r~sponse on the questionnaire as to why she entered the ministry was: "The Methodist Church needed me." Doubtless any bishop would endorse that statement. This woman may have unusual gifts of administration. --they have had an excellent building programmbut many from whom I heard seem able to manage the af-fairs of a parish well. A Michigan woman writes: "I have to date served three parishes and we have built a new church building in each place. I would have been happy to have let the men do that, though." Others felt they were not equipped to handle such projects and pre-ferred to work on a multiple staff where they would not have administrative duties. When women are assistant pastors they usually carry heavy responsibility in Christian education, pastoral calling, or both. Twenty-five years ago, schools or de-partments of religious education were separate from the theological, divisions of seminaries though on the same campuses. The education courses were taken mainly by women. They demanded extensive study of educa-tional theory and practice as well as field work but a minimum of theology. The theological sections, in which nearly all the students were men, did little or nothing in the way of training for educational work. Tension resulted between the male minister and the female director of education, the pastor thinking the woman did not know what she was trying to impart and the director of education feeling that the pastor was a dismal failure when it came to imparting anything ex-cept to adults. Since the woman had had fewer years of graduate study and was in a subordinate position on the staff, as well as from the cultural angle, she felt frus-trated. This picture is changing. A widow who serves as a director of Christian educa-tion has expressed the matter clearly: "I was ordained because at the time I was in seminary it seemed to me that there was quite a gulf between people working in the Christian education field, which I had prepared to do, and the ministry of the church. In other words, all too often the clergy did not interest themselves in edu-cation, because they felt that it was the 'field of the edu-cator, and in fact, they did not bother to find out too much about it. The person in Christian education went about his duties and the minister about his and they were each in his separate world. This led to misunder-standing and at times situations where there was rivalry and outright antagonism. By completing the full three- year course for the B.D. degree and by being ordained, I wished to show my belief that ihe work of the church is one; that whatever I did I wanted to do with the wel-fare of the total church in mind; that I was prepared to understand the work of the ministry in its widest scope and to see my task in the broadest terms." Another woman explains her desire in seeking ordination: "Be-cause it is my conviction that one who works profes-sionally in the educational ministry of the church should have the same training and status as those who are min-isters of Word and Sacrament. The ministry is one; the preaching and teaching ministry cannot be separated." Women with this full preparation frequently become associate pastors rather than assistants and their views are treated with appreciation and respect in the area of their special competence. The church school is under their direction, also adult education projects and leader-ship training of various kinds. They-may have respon-sibility for morning wors.hip when children or youth are involved. The ministers of the church work as a team, associates having been interviewed by the senior pastor so that he carl determine whether additional staff have points of view which will make it possible for all to serve together happily. The women from whom I heard in such situations were glad to participate in a team minis-try. Others who share responsibility, particularly in pas-toral calling and counseling, felt a multiple staff should always include a woman. A number in such positions said there were problems a woman would not discuss with a male minister, and vice versa, so that the pres-ence of a woman on the staff gave members of the congregation a choice. One respondent mentioned that a minister of another denomination had sent a dis-turbed woman to her for counseling even though he "did not believe in women ministers." Several who have had experience in chaplaincy work feel that it is a mis-take for men to counsel emotionally disturbed women and girls and vice versa. Older women often find satisfaction in a special min-istry to senior citizens, shut-ins, those in nursing homes and hospitals. This frees the senior pastor from all ex-cepf. the most urgent calls. The woman assistant or as-sociate takes Holy Communion to the sick and others who cannot come to the church. She conducts worship in nursing homes and often preaches in the absence of the senior minister. Thirty-four ministers' wives responded to the ques-tionnaire; thirty-two respondents are married to men who have other vocations. Unless economic circum-stances demand it, they do not leave the home when 4. 4- + Protestant Women in Religion VOLUME 26, 1967 1023 ÷ ÷ ÷ E|sle Gibson REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1024 their children are below school age; but this does not mean they have "left the ministry." A mother of four children whose husband is in business says that she con-tinued her work until their fourth child came: "I have found that a full-time parish is too much for me to manage while the children are young. I have every in-tention of returning to the parish ministry as soon as the children are all in school, and able to be a little less de-pendent on me." In the meantime she is able to supply pulpits and conduct Christian education workshops. Another minister's wife who is serving a church part time says: "I am devot.ing all the time I feel I can to my parish duties because my family takes precedence . Fortunately, the church I currently serve does not ask for more. But in any case, until the youngest child is in school, I could not do more. If I fail my children, I fail--period. However, with these limitations I am giv-ing supportive help to a small congregation of aging persons (mostly single .women) and there doesn't seem to be anyone else around who could bother with them at the moment." Other wives, while accepting interim and supply work, do not serve as pastors and do not expect to do so. They are absorbed.in the work their husbands are do-ing, giving him assistance in tasks for which they have special gifts. The parish he serves is actually receiving the service of two ministers "for the price of one." Such churches make no de,rnands upon a woman's time but gratefully receive whatever assistance she can give. This will vary with the age and number of her children. She may give practically full time as they grow older. Protestant churches are often unaware of the work done by ministers' wives above the local level and es-pecially in ecumenical circles. I recall a large board meeting where the que.stion was suddenly asked: "How many here are ministers' x4ives?" Nearly all the women were, and it was laughingly decided that some-thing must be done abont such a situation for "what if all our husbands were to move at once?" One min-ister's wife writes: "Our little boy is just a year old so I will not be working professionally for a while. However, I am very much involved in our Church Women United gronp, and feel that the witness i am making now is perhaps greater than the witness I was able to make as a professional Christian education person." In various ways a number observed that a Christian home at the heart of the parish is in itself a form of witness. A young minister's wife states: "I've found thai often women will talk their family and marital problems over with me first. Often they want to talk to both of us. When a woman needs to break down and have a good cry, she'll often come and cry with me." Another expresses an idea which I have pondered myself: Are women led into specialized ministries? Certainly many of us who are mar-ried are so engaged. We are doing work that in many in-stances requires ordination but that others have neither the time nor the financial support to do. A young woman, ordained and having to decide whether her ministry will be given as a single or married person, writes: "I think that women were made to stand along-side men in the family, church and society." She rejects stereotypes of women as do most of those responding to my questionnaire. It seems to me that the role of woman in the Church is an nnsolved problem. Their gifts and abilities are numerous, and they cannot be forced into one of half a dozen molds predetermined by society. T.hey must have sufficient freedom to become what God intended them to be. They need the help of the men of the Church, but not their domination, to find where they belong. One woman cannot generalize for another what the ideal wife and mother must be and do. There is as much variety within this "order" as within any other. I think that perhaps the greatest need of the Church in our generation is a deep interior listening to what the Holy Spirit seems to be saying, not only to our-selves but through others. The natural human tend-ency is to try to shape others either to our own vocation or to our mental image of the calling he thinks he has. There is a bewildering multiplication of vocations to-day when almost everyone is some kind of specialist. But we are reachiug out toward mt~tual understanding. Years ago, the founder o1~ the American Association of Women Ministers chided me for my interest in the Roman Catholic Church. She could not fathom it. Aged and infirm now, unable to fill out the questionnaire, she rose from bed and scribbled a brief note which in-cluded the words: "I have found very real fellowship with Catholic Sisters both here and once when I was ill and they took me in almost as one of them. 'Just like us' I overheard one of them say to another of me." Our feelings may be ambivalent at times as we consider the radical differences in our separate states; but faith in Christ leads us to affirm that we will yet be one Body---even in the eyes of the world. + 4. + Protestant Women in Religion VOLUME 26, 1967 1025 JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Directives on the ¯Postulancy, Noviceship, and Temporary Profession ÷ + ÷ Joseph F. Gal-len, s.J., writes from St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania 19106. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1026 In an address to the International Union of Supe-rioresses General, given in Rome on March 7, 1967, Archbishop Philippe, Secretary of the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious, communicated the following new ori-entations or directives of the Sacred Congregation of Re-ligious on the postulancy, noviceship, and temporary profession in apostolic congregations of religious women. These directives had been p.reviously approved by the Prefect of the Sacred Congregation, Cardinal~ Antoniutti. The directives should obviously be studied by all institutes, also of men. These new orientations are di-rectives, suggestions, the thinking, the mind of the Sa-cred Congregation. They Were not imposed as obliga-tory. The norms of the motu proprio Ecclesiae sanctae (nn. 6-8) remain in full force. The general chapter therefore has the authority to change the constitutions experimentally provided the changes are not contrary to canon law and the purpose, nature, and character of the institute are preserved. Prudent experiments con-trary to canon law, if judged profitable, will be freely i~er-mitted by the Holy See, but canonical changes are effec-tive only if and when they are permitted by the Holy See. The general council has the same power of experimenta-tion in the periods between chapters according to condi-tions to be determined by the chapters. See Rv.wEw for RELXGmUS, 25 (1966), 957--65; 26 (1967), 5--18. The new orientations of the Sacred Congregation are listed below as directives. The remarks are my explanatory comments on the directives. DIRECTIVE I. PRE-POSTULANCY NOT RECOMMENDED. A pre-postulancy would be a period before the postulancy spent in one of the houses of full external activity, in which therefore the aspirant would be in contact with the actual life of the institute, would know the life she is to live when her formation is completed, and a more realistic judgment of her vocation could be made. The thinking of the Sacred Congregation of Religious is that this purpose should be included in the postulancy and not that there should be an added and special pre-postu- .lancy for all. Remarks. The directive of the Sacred Congregation stated above would not preclude the imposing or recom-mending of such a pre-postulancy to a particular aspi-rant or aspirants before admission. Some institutes of sis-ters are now demanding or tending to demand a year of work after high school, two years or the completion of college before entrance. All such requirements are based on what is stated to be the fact of experience, that is, that greater maturity than now had is at least advisable before entrance. Such experimental require-ments should be carefully thought out and, if put into effect, their results are to be accurately observed and studied. Maturity is an individual matter, and some high school graduates are sufficiently mature for entrance. A partial or complete college education is not a guaran-tee of maturity, Contact is to be maintained with the applicant during the period of any such delayed en-trance, e.g., by the vocation director. The psychological and personality testing of applicants should help the judgment on sufficient maturity. DIRECTIVE II. POSTULANCY. Necessity. In religious in-stitutes of women of.perpetual vows, there is to be a postulancy for all of at least six month~ but not longer than a year (c. 539, § 1). Prolongation. Whether the pre-scribed postulancy is six months or longer, as above, it may be prolonged but not more than six months (c. 539, § 2). Place. The postulancy may be made in the novitiate house or in another house of the institute where the discipline prescribed by the constitutions is faithfully observed (c. 540, § 1). Manner. The postulants are to make the postulancy as a distinct group under the spiritual guidance of a mistress (c. 540, § 1). Pur-pose. The postulancy is to remain, as now almost solely viewed, a period of spiritual and religious initiation for the noviceship, but it may also be considered and em-ployed as a time of probation and trial in the works of the institute. It may be made in one of the houses of full external activity. Consequently, the postulants would be in contact with the actual life of the institute, would know the life they are to live when their forma-tion is completed, and a more realistic judgment of their vocation could be made (c. 540, § 1). Authority ]or Directives VOLUME 26, 1967 1027 4" 4" 4" Joseph F. Gallen, .S.L REVIEW: FOR RELIGIOUS 1028 changes. The institutes themselves may make these changes because none of them is contrary to canon law and therefore does 'not demand the authorization of the Sacred Congregation of Religious. Remarhs. It is not a canon but the practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions that has excluded a postulancy longer than a year. Canon law did not and does not forbid either study or occupation in the ex-ternal works of the institute during postulancy. Canor~ 540, § 1 permits that the postulancy be made in houses of full external activity "where the discipline prescribed by the constitutions is faithfully observed." DIRECTIVE III. CLOTHING OR RECEPTION OF THE HABIT (BEGINNING OF THE NOVlCESHIP). Type of ceremony. The mind of the Sacred Congregation of Religious is that the clothing or reception of the habit should be reduced to a purely community ceremony, held in the chapel of the novices or of the religious house, without the pres-ence of the families or ecclesiastical authorities, and especially without solemnity. Reason. The reason is to accord the due and superior importance to religious pro-fession, which in many institutes of religious women was given less solemnity and appeared to have less impor-tance than reception. The Commission for the Imple-mentation of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy is preparing to formulate a ceremonial for religious pro-fession. Remarks. The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, n. 80, states: Moreover, a rite of religious profession aml renewal of vows shall be drawn up, in order to achieve greater unity, sobriety, and dignity. Apart from exceptions in particular law, this rite should be adopted by those who make their profession or

Issue 44.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1985. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, M O 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1985 by REVIEW FOR R ELIGIOOS. 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 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUg 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. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor Sept./Oct., 1985 Volume 44 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R Evmw FOrt R ELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microf'dms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. The Primordial Mystery of Consecration John R. Sheets, S.J. ~ Father Sheets has been a frequent contributor to our. pages. The substance of the present article; the first of the "'Mother Xavier Ross Lecture" series, was given at the Motherhouse of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth in June, 1985. Father Sheets continues to teach in die Theology Department of Creighton University; Omaha, NE 68178. It seems that among people .with religious sensitivities, there is reawakening of the sense of mystery. This~is taking place on every level of the Church, among laity, religious, priests. In spite of the technological milieu in which we live, there breaks through what Peter Berger'once called "the rumor of angels." This is a sense of what lies beyond; beneath, and around the "manufactured" world that seems to dry up and suck out that deep source of life which overflows from the fountain of living water, through the mysteries of nature and of grace. It is the sense of what Teilhard de Chardin called "The Divine Milieu." "The perception of the divine omnipresence is essentially a seeing, a taste, that is to say a sort of intuition bearing upon certain superior qualities in things. It cannot,, therefore; be. attained directly by any process of reasoning, nor by any human artifice" (Theo Divine Mileiu, p. 131). Perhaps this deepening sense of mystery is taking place not only :in spite of the technologizing of our world, but because of it. When windows ~are shut and there is no fresh air, our Jungs cry out for this freshness in a stronger way than we. felt when fresh air was part of our normal life. This milieu of the:.'freshness, at the heart of reality is the world of the sacred. It is the world where two worlds join and compenetrate, the sacred world, which is the "milieu" of the divine, and our created, spatial-temporal ~2 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 world. The overflow of the sacred into our world is con-secration. Etymo-logically the word means a "with-sacredness," or a "co-sacredness." In a manner that is pure gift, what belongs to God alone, his milieu, so to speak,° becomes our milieu. In what follows, I would like to take this notion of milieu as a way of speaking about consecration. In particular, I want to show how religious consecration, a life committed to Christ through commitment to the evan-gelical counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience, is a particular florescence of the sacred md~eu ~nto wh~cfi we are drawn through baptism. Baptism is not only the "door of the Church," as .it has often been called. It is also the way in which Christ's own consecration eniers into us, and we are drawn into his. It is what has been described as the "admirabile commercium," the wonderful exchange. His milieu becomes mine, and mine becomes his. What Jacob said about the place where he had wrestled with the angel applies to the sacrament of baptism: "This. is indeed the house of God and the gate of heaven," It is out of this sacred milieu into which we are drawn through baptism that religious consecration arises as a particular "art form" of the. mystery of consecration. The Milieus in Which We Live Since the notion Of milieu is central to the way that I want to speak of religious consecration, | shall begin with a brief description of its meaning: then, comment on the different milieus which shape our lives. A milieu, acco.rding to the etymology, is a "middle place." I am not sure of all that is implied in that derivation. :But in someway, everything, and every person in a. milieu is always in the middle of it, no matter where the thing or person is. It is th~ mystery of the interpenetration of two levels of reality: that by which we belong to what is greater than we. Yet what is greater than any individual enters into the individual as though each indi-vidual is a center of convergence of all that is in the milieu. Undoubtedly one could speculate on this interdependence of individual and milieu at length. But this is not the place to do that. It is enough to call attention to the way that the whole exists in the part, and the part in the whole. ~he milieu is not merely something external to the individuals, but works to shape individuals, groups, nations, marking them with an identity which gives them.a sameness even in their individuality. For our purposes we can speak of three different milieus~ The first is that of the,world of things as they exist.within the interdependence of the whole. Today we call that milieu, and the way that iridividual things interact with it, the ecosystem; There is also the milieu in which we exist, not simply as things, but as 7he Mystery of Consecration spirit-embodied in the world of things. It is the world created by.lspirit-in-the- flesh, the world of culture, It is the world which is our home as persons, a world created by the power of the spirit--the world of language, art, literature, and the world of human relationships. In the third place, there is the world of the sacred. By its very nature, every°milieu is found in time and space, but has no limits or boundaries. Also, every milieu compenetrates, in a greater or lesser degree, everything that is within it. But in the realm of the sacred milieu this is even more profound. There is in every heart, as well as in communities of mankind, a sense of the more, the depth, and the beyond that.surrounds, encompasses, sustains,' every other aspect of our existence. This sense of'the sacred is found in the heart Of individuals and in the collective awareness of all peoples. Augustine describes it as the restlessness of the human heart that thirsts for the fullness which cannot be satisfied by any limited good. "Our hearts are made for thee, O God, and they are restless, until they find their rest in thee." Rudolf Otto speaks of it as the sense ~of the numinous (The Idea of the Holy). Paul Tillich as "ultimate concern." Rabbi Heschel describes it as the "sense of wonder coming from the ineffable depths of reality." No matter how it is described, all the descriptions point to the milieuwhich is the source and sustaining power of the whole of created existence. St. Paul, in his speech to the Athenians, will speak of God as this milieu: ". he is not far from any of us, for in him we live, and move and have our being"~(Ac 17:27). ~ It. is this sense of the sacred that is at the heart of all the :searching for meaning of life, the attempt to make some sense out of the problem of evil, suffering, death.'~It is the basis of all religious practice, in the attempt to enter,into communion with this absolute reality, or to propitiate it. It is here, then, for the first time that we find a new reality. It is the mystery of con-secration, a "with-sacredness." This boundless mystery, which is out of time and space, is concretized in time and space. Certain persons, places, things are set apart to embody this mystery, to be the "sacrament" which inserts the mystery into our lives, so that it can touch us, and we can touch it. For this reason, persons, places, things are set apart and assume the specialness that belongsto the mystery of the sacred. In other words, they are consecrat6d. We have been speaking of the mystery of the sacred, and the consecra-tion by which it takes on a certain sacramental presence in the world. This is the realm of what is called natural religion. But .with God's entering into the history of Israel through the call of Moses, and the whole of the Exodus experience, there is a new sense of the sacred. We are now in the realm of dialogue. In an' incomprehensible way, 644 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 the sacred is revealed as a person,,who calls, chooses, sends. He has a name, ~"Yahweh." He has designs for the whole people, and the whole of history. He invites the people to enter into his own holiness, to share 'it. This is an entirely new dimension in the mystery of the saci'ed, as well as in the meaning of con-secration. The mystery Of the holy is not only the mystery of the numinou~, but the revelation of a God who is also will. His will is that we might live. But his will, as well as our lives, are inseparable from keeping his word. "From this you know that now, if you obey my voice and hold fast to my covenant, yoti of all the nations shall be my very own; for all the earth is mine. I will count you a kingdom of priests, a consecrated .nation (Ex 19:5). As we saw above, in the realm of natural religion, the'sense of the sacred is incarnated in the world of persons, actions and things, which are conse-crated, to be the meeting place of the sacred and the human. The same is true in Israel, but with a richer meaning that comes from revelation. Now, the consecration of persons, places, things serves to put the people in touch with what took place in the saving events of their history, whose meaning is revealed through the .prophetic word. Even. within the consecrated people, the tribe of Levi has a ~pecial consecration to be the tribe to serve as priests. They would receive no part of the land'allotted to the others, because God himself was to be their lot. However, all these aspects of the sacred, from natural religion, to the historical religion of Israel, are only stages to the revelation wefind in Christ. The Letter to the Hebrews describes the whole pattern of consecrating activities in the Old Testament as shadows and figures of what is to come, "For the Law contains but a shadow, and no true image of the good things which were' to come" (Heb 10:1). "These are no more than a shadow of what was to come; the solid reality is Christ" (Col 2:17). The entrance of.God into history in a unique and unforeseeable way in the Incarnation is described as an act of consecration. Mary is to be overshadowed by the power of the Holy Spirit, and the one to be born of her will be called the Holy One. The terminology is reminiscent of the description of the consecration of the temple of Solomon.A cloud, sym-bolizing the consecrating presence, of Yahweh, filled the temple (IK 8:10). Jesus himself is the one who is consecrated, the one in whom and through the Father's redemptive love reaches out to us, and through whom we touch the Father. He is the fulfillment of the meaning of the ladder stretching from heaven to earth seen in Jacob's dream (Gn 28:17). "You shall see greater things than that. In. truth, in' very truth I tell you all, you shall see heaven wide open, and God's angels ascending and descending upon the Son of Man" (Jn 1:51). ,. 7he Mystery. of Consecration / 645 .~ The theme of consecration is in particular central to the Johannine thought. Jesus is at one and the same time the one consecrated by the Father, as well as the one who consecrates' the wbrld. He is lamb and priest. "I have been consecrated and sent into the world by the Father (Jn 10:36). He is the fullness Of the Father's h~llowing act, that takes place in hi~ Hour, the Hour in which he is glorified. But this hallowing act overflows to consecrate the world, in particular the Church. "For their sake I now consecrate mYself that they may be consecrated by the truth,' (Jn 17:19). In the blood and water flowing from his open side, together with the gift of the Spirit, are symbolized the .consecration, in the first place of Christ, and then the manner in which his own consecration reaches out to touch the world. In Paul in particular, there is the sense of what we cancall the Christic milieu. To be a Christian is to be put into Christ, incorporated in him. This is an inse.rtion into Christ's ownconsecration. One of the favorite phrases he used to express the whole mystery of the faith is "in Christ Jesus," or "in the Lord." The Christian finds his identity as the new creation by being taken up in Christ's consecration. This theme is central to the thought of Paul: I shall give only a sampling of the texts. In his farewell to.the elders at Miletus, Paul told them: "And now I commend you to God and to his gracious word, which has power to build you up and give you your heritage among all who are consecrated to him" (Ac 20:32). The Corinthians "have been consecrated in Christ Jesus" (1 Co 1:2), "washed and consecrated" (6:11)o His own ministry is described as a liturgical act: ',It falls to me to offer the gentiles to him as an acceptable sacrifice, consecrated by the Holy Spirit" (Rm 15:!6) Hebrews stresses the identity which is established between Christ ai~d the Christian through being consecrated by Christ: "For a consecrating priest and those whom he consecrates are all of one stock" (Heb 2:11). Peter speaks of the faithful as "consecrated by the Spirit to a life of obedience to Jesus Christ" (1 P 1:2). A.person who is consecratedby Christ and in Christ:should live the kind of life that flows from consec~:ation and brings it to fulfillment. "Let us therefore cleanse ourselves from 511 that can defile flesh or spirit, and ifi the fear of God complete 'our consecration" (2 Co 7: !). The consecration of a believing spouse has inner power.to draw the unbelieving wife or husband into the consecration of the believing spouse. "For the heathen husband now belongs to God through his Christian wife, and the heathen wife through her Christian husband. Otherwise your children would not belong to God, whereas in fact they do" (1 Co 7:14). Paul parallels the sacrificial love by which Christ consecrated th~ Church ~a46 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 with the way that.a husband should,love his wife: "Husbands, love your wives as Christ also loved the Church and gave himself up for it, to consecrate it, cleansing it by water and word, so that he might present the Church to .himself all glorious, with no stain or wrinkle or anything of the sort, bht holy and Without blemish" (Ep 5:25~27). '~ The extension.of Christ's power to consecrate is transmitted in the mysterious power by which his own power to consecrate is sacramentalized in his apostles. They are told to "do this in memory of me," that is, to repeat sacramentally the act by which Christ consecrated the world. They are empowered by being given the gift of the consecrating, or rather, re-conse-crating Spirit."'Peace'be with you. As the Father sent me, so 1 send you.' He then breathed on them, saying: 'Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive any man's, sins, they stand forgiven; if you pronounce them unforgiven, unforgiven they remain'" (Jn 20:21-23). It is this sacred power sacramentalized in his apostles and their succes-sors which is described by the word hierarchy. In popular understanding, the word is identified with power and bureaucracy. ~But its original meaning, coming from the word "hieros'" and "archia," "holy principle," is the sacra-mentalization of Christ's power to consecrate the faithful. Before proceeding on to the topic of religious consecration, I would like to sum up what l have said. At first it might seem as though I have a very long staircase, by way of introduction, to reach the place where I am going, '~ As I said above, it is important to recapturethe importance of the various milieus in which weqive, Each in its own way, on different levels; contributes to the shaping of individuals and societies. This is especially true of the milieu of thesacred. There is an analogy between the compre-hensive force of the power of gravity in the ecosystem with the power of the sacred to sustain and give meaning to the whole of reality. This sense of the ~way that the sacred permeates the whole of created reality is at the root of the. symbolism in the Book of Revelation, ch. 4, where created reality acclaims the One who is on the throne, singing, "Holy, holy, holy is God the sovereign Lord of all, who was, and is, and is to come'~ (v, 8). 0 .In ~the Old Testament, this milieu is described through images such as covenanted people, people of God. In the New Testament, the images abound: kingdom, city, temple, body, vine and branches, the New Creation. We must,then, recapture the radical or primordial meaning of conse-cration, It is'. not something which touches us merely externally. To be "in the Lord," or "in Christ Jesus," means to be in a milieu which tranSforms the inner.,person into a new creature, while at the same time it draws him into a consecrated community. The Mystery of Consecration The followiiag passage, then, will serve as a summary of what I have said, as well as a bridge to the next section. "Let us t.hen establish ourselves in th( .divine milieu. There we shall be within the inmost depths of souls and the greatest consistency of matter. There, at the confluence of all the forms of beauty, we shall discover the ultra-vital, ultra-perceptible, ultra-active point of t.hb universe; and, at the same time, we shall experience in the depths, of our own being the effortless deployment of'the plenitude of all our powers of action and of adoration; For it is not merely that .at that privileged point all the external springs of the world are coordinated and harmonized: there is the further, complementary marvel that the man who surrenders himself to the divine, milieu feels his own inward powers directed and enlarged by it with a sureness which enables him effortlessly to avoid the all too numerous reefs on which mystical quests have so often foundere~d" (Hymn of the Universe, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, p. 141).' Religious Consecration: The Florescence of the Divine Milieu I would like then to apply what I have said above, about the way we are consecrated by being drawn into the milieu of Christ throu'gh baptism and the Church, to the consecrated life of the counseis.~l shall do this by commenting on Pope John 'Paul's letter on the religious life, Redemptionis Donum ( The Gift of Redemption). It was addressed to religious throughout the world at the close of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption. It is dated March 25, 1984. But first I would like to give some of my own reflections about the letter. In my mind it is most consistenL the most profound presentation of the theology of the religious life ever written. That is a bold statement. But I think it is true. In the first place it is a coherent theology taking in all the mysteries of our faith to bring them to 'converge on the meaning of the religious life: Trinity, incarnation, Church, sacraments, grace, Mary. What we have in Vatican II and other official statements ~abo~t religious life brings out the meaning but not in the context of a coherent theology. There is a depth° to the treatment which undercuts the traditional dichotomies which often prevent us from getting to the central meaning of religious life.~ Such, for example, are the contrasts between "Pre-Vatican and Post-Vatican," "monastic and apostolic," "conservative and liberal~" "American and R6man," "male and female." The letter goes to what is permanent beneath all of the changes. It shows the principle of identity that marks the religious life wherever and whenever it is found. Perhaps one of the main reasons for confusion today among religious, and in the formation programs of so many congregations, is the lack of any permanent base which acts as a constant among the many 6ttlt / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 ¯variables which-affect religious life as it emerges in different cultures throughout, history, responding to new needs of the Church as these develop. How many things have been written in the past couple of decades on the "religious life of the future," "changing religigus life today," and more. Most of these 'are projections from a view of the religious life which is simply-a recombination of variables, without any sense of a constant which gives them consistency. They are like the skywriting messages we see in the sky, which are there, lose their shape, disappear, to be succeeded by more skywriting. In this sense, to be current is to be always out-of-date. To come then to the letter itself. There are seven.sections to it. I want to call special attention to sections three and four. Section Three is entitled "Consecration," and Section Four, "Evangelical Counsels." In Section One, "Greeting," the Holy Father describes the purpose of the letter, which is, first of all, in the context of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, a call to conversion; and secondly, it is the opportunity for him as the Vicar of Christ to express in the name of the whole Church a message of love to religious. In Section Two, he turns to the account of Jesus' dialogue with the rich young man (Mk 10:21 ff). "He looked upon him and loved him." He said, "If you want to be .perfect, go sell what you have, give .to the poor, and come follow me." The man went away sad. This gospel narrative, then, is applied to each of those whom Christ called. It puts v0catio0 in the context of an ongoing dialogue with Christ. Christian religious life is not like, for example, that of the Buddhist monks. Their life of celibacy, together with their other commitments, arises out of what we spoke of above as "natural religion." Christian religious life arises out of a personal dialogue of Christ with the individual. It is not a call simply to asceticism. It is a call "to follow Christ." For this reason, it is a call to a lived-communion. The Holy Father speaks of this as "spousal" nature of religious life. Then, in th~ part which concerns us in particular, Section Three, "Con-secration," he describes religious life as a special form that our baptismal consecration take.s, as Christ enters into dialogue with us, to draw us to a special form of baptismal consecration. In ithe context of what I said above about the "divine°milieu," this means that. we are taken up into this milieu of Christ through our baptism, which at the same time draws us into the society of "saints" (Paul's word for members of the consecrated community of faithful). Within this milieu, through this ongoing dialogue of Christ with the heart of each of his faithful, he draws them to the particular charism which is their special way of consecrating the whole community. Paul speaks of the individual char-isms (or graces, gi(ts) as "building up" the community. But in reality, there The Mystery of Consecration is no way to build up except by drawing out all the implications of the radical consecration through our baptism. Within the manifold of ways of living out the baptismal consecration, there is the vocation of the evangelical counsels. What is the uniqueness of this charism in respect to the other vocations that arise through the prompting of the .Holy Spirit from our baptismal consecration? The answer is found in the unique way that religious life bears witness to what is at the heart of the baptismal consecration. As the Holy Father says: "Upon the sacramental basis of baptism in which it is rooted, religious profession is a new 'burial in the death of Christ': new, because it is made with awareness and by choice; new, because of love and vocation; new, by reason of unceasing 'conversion.' This 'burial in death' causes the person 'buried together with .Christ' to walk in newness of life. In Christ crucified is to be found the ultimate foundation both of baptismal consecration and of the profession of ,the evangelical counsels, which--in the words of the Second Vatican Council--constitutes a 'special consecration.' It is at one and the same time both death and liberation" (#7). The clue that is at the heart of the Holy Father's faith-insight into baptismal consecration, and the religious conseizration which is rooted in it, lies in two words: paschal duality. The paschal mystery has two different, but inseparable aspects, death-resurrection. This paschal duality can be expressed in other ways: sacrifice-communion, giving up in order to give to afiother, impoverishment-enrichment, emptying-filling, powerlessness-empowerment. The uniqueness, then, of the charism of religious consecration lies in the way that it renders visible, tangible and operative, the paschal duality that lies in the very heart of the Church. In Section Four, "Evangelical Counsels," the Pope points out how the life of the evangelical counsels is not simply a kind of private way of life. Such a life transposes what he calls the "economy of the redemption" into the here and now. The economy of the redemption is another way of speaking of the paschal mystery, and the paschal duality. The life of the counsels incarnates the redemptive pattern into the life of an individual and a community. In this way, such a life carries within it the very liberating power of Christ's own death and resurrection~ This emphasis shows how the religious life, even if lived in a cloister, is by its very nature the most powerful liberating force in the world. "In this way the economy of the redemption transfers the power of the paschal mystery to the level of huma'nity, docile to Christ's call to life in chastity, poverty and obedience, that is, to a life according to the evangelical counsels" (# 10). 650 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 In Section Five, :the Holy Father takes up each of the evangelical counsels in order to point out how they exhibit this paschal duality. On the one hand, the counsel of chastity for the kingdom of God means giving up marriage and the joy of having one's own family. But in this case, renuncia-tion is not something negative. It is at the same time annunciation that the ultimate goal of all of us is a here and now possibility. With the power of the. Holy Spirit it is possible to open one's heart and allow Christ to fill it completely. The intangible reality that Christ is the only spouse of the Church is made visible in the lives of those for whom he is truly spouse here and now through chastity for the kingdom of God. "The evangelical counsel of chastity is only an indication of that partic-ular possibility which for the human heart, whether of a man or of a woman, constitutes the spousal love of Christ himself, of Jesus the 'Lord.' To make themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven' is not in fact merely.a free renunciation of marriagel.but a charismatic choice of Christ as one's exclusive spouse . . . In this way consecrated persons accomplish the interior purpose of the entire economy of the redemption ~. they bring into the midst of this passing world the announcement of the future resurrection and of eternal life: life in union with God himself tl~rough the beatific vision and the love which contains in itself and com-pletely pervades all the other loves of the human heart" (#11). Then he turns to the evangelical counsel of poverty. He develops the paschal duality involved in the counsel by his reflections on the way that Christ enriched us through his poverty. "For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich" (2 Co 8:9). He continues: "For this reason he says to the young manof the synop-tic Gospels: 'Sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in'heaven.' In these words there is a call to enrich others through one's own poverty, but in the depths of this call there is hidden the testi-mony of the infinite, richness of God, which transferred to the human soul in the mystery of grace, creates in man himself, precisely through poverty, a source for enriching others not comparable, with any :other resource of material goods, a source for bestowing gifts on others in the manner of God himself. We see how this process of enrichment unfolds in the pages of the Gospel; finding its culmination in the paschal event: Christ, the poorest in his death on the cross, is also the one who enriches us infinitely with the fullness of new life through the resurrection" (#12). He then turns to the counsel of obedience. He takes as the key text Paul's description of the kenosis (emptying) of Christ. "Though he was in the form of God, he did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, The Mystery of Consecration / 651 but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross" (Ph 2:6-8). He locates the inmost constitutive element of the paschal mystery in the obedience of Christ to the Father. "Here, in these words of the Letter of St. Paul to the Philippians, we touch the very essence of the redemption, In this reality is inscribed in a primary and constitutive way the obedience of Jesus Christ. Other words of the apostle., confirm this: "For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by one man's obedience many will be made righteous" (Rm 5:19). In living out the counsel of obedience, through which they place them-selves at this disposal of the community and the Church through obedience to their superior, they cooperate in redeeming the world. Here in this redemptive mode of life, they echo both the words of Mary and of Jesus; "Be it doneoto me according to your will." ',By living out the evangelical counsel of obedience, they reach the deep essence of the entire economy of the redemption" (#13). ~ Of course, every Christian must live out his life in obedience to God through obedience to legitimate authority. But the life of the religious should be marked in a special way with this duality, an emptying of self-will, which paradoxically constitutes an inner freedom. "And since this obedience of Christ constitutes the essential nucleus of the work of the redemption, as is seen from the words of the apostle quoted above, there, fore, also in the fulfilling of :the evangelical counsel of obedience we must discerh a particular moment in that 'economy of the redemption' which pervades your whole vocation in the Church." (#13). ,Thr°ugh°ut the letter the Pope stresses that the "treasure in heaven[ promised to those who.give up all things to follow him is not reserved for heaven. It takes place here and .now. When the paschal mystery is allowed to "seed" the heart, which is' constricted by the threefold way in which its inner instincts are twisted, the "lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life" (1 Jn 2:15-17), its power to love takes on the infinity of Christ's own love. "Remember also, dear brothers and sisters, that the obedience to which you committed yourselves by consecrating yourselves without reserve to God through the profession of the. evangelical counsels is a particular expression of interior freedom, just as the definitive expression of Christ's freedom was his'obedience 'unto. death'i 'I lay down my life, that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord" (Jn 10:!7, 18)(#13): In Section Six, he shows how ihe life of the counsels witnesses to the 659 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 redemptive power of the paschal mystery, because it frees the heart, which is open to the counsels, to embrace that paschal duality/in the whole of one's life. It touches us in the three most radical aspects of our lives: the need to have things, the need for human, intimate love, and the need to be master of our destinies. In this way, religious life is witness to the presence of the paschal mystery in our hearts. "These counsels, each in its own way and all of them together in their intimate connection, 'bear witness' to the redemption which, by the power of Christ's cross and resurrection, leads the world and humanity in the Holy Spirit toward that definitive fulfillment, which man and through man, the whole of creation finds in God and only in God" (#14). He stresses then the way that religious by their consecration share in the apostolate of the Church. But at the same time their most fundamental apostolate is found in being who they are. "And thus, even though the many different apostolic works that you perform are extremely important, nevertheless, the truly fundamental work of the apostolate remains always what (and at the same time who) you are in,the Church" (#15). Finally, in the conclusion, he stresses that this paschal mystery which finds its special witness in the religious life is a mystery that can be pene-trated only with the eyes of faith. "May the Holy Spirit--through Christ's cross and resurrection--'having the eyes of your hearts enlightened,' enable you "to know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his g~orious inheritance in the saints'" (Ep 1:18) (#16). Summary and Conclusion It is probably a mixed metaphor to say that we have gone through l_ight-years in this article. We have seen that the mystery of the sacred, the holy, is the mystery that sustains all things. It is the milieu in which all things have their being. Yet the mystery is so boundless that it has to be, so to speak, scaled down for us to be in touch with it. This "scaling down" is itself a mystery. We call it consecration. Somehow, what has all the opa-queness, earthiness of this world, imperviousness of the world of creatures, becomes charged with the infinite power of the holy. Through revelati6n, we are able to see with the eyes of faith, the inner nature of this milieu, the holiness of God. His mystery of holiness is also a mystery of lbve which seeks to share-what one has and what one is. This sharing takes place through the redemptive :love of Christ. The world, thin, ultimately exists in a Christic milieu. It is a world washed with the blood of Christ, recreated, re-consecrated. We enter this consecrated milieu through baptism. This radical conse-cration can never be lost, even though we might desecrate it. This is called 7he Mystery of Consecration in theological terms the sacramental stamp, or character. Through the variety of gifts given by the Holy Spirit, the radical conse-cration flowers in many ways. In particular, it blossoms in the religious life. It is there that the fundamental character of the paschal duality is re-pre-sented, in a way that parallels the re-presentation of Christ's sacrifice in the Mass. For in and through the consecrated life of chastity, poverty, and obedience, Christ says, "Here's what I am. Here's what I came to do." This mystery of the way that the milieu of Christ enters into us to consecrate us by taking us up into himself finds some remote analogy in the images used by the poet William Blake in his Songs of Innocence. To see a Wor|d in a grain of sand And a Heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour. A robin redbreast in a cage Puts all Heaven in a rage. A dove-house filled with doves and pigeons ~hudders Hell through all its "regions. From .Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New° Constitutions I and II by Patricia Spillane, M.S, C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd; St'.~ Louis, Missouri 63108 The Charism and Identity of Religious Life Michael J. Buckley, S.J. Father Buckley, of Berkeley's Jesuit School of Theology, has~ served as theological advisor since its inception to the Pontifical Commission on Religious Life in the United States. This article is the text of a paper Father Buckley presented at the meeting of the American bishops at their spring meetifig in Collegeville preparatory to their corporate reflections about religious life. Father Buckley may be addressed at The Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley; 1735 Le Roy Avenue; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Prenote: The limitations imposed by the nature of this conference do not allow for anything more than a fragmentary set of reflections upon a topic of such critical importance to the understanding of religious life. This paper, then, can do no more than attempt three of the many tasks which fall under so general a title: (1) To sketch something of the development of themagisterium's teaching on this subject; (2) to indicate some of the problems which this teaching entails; and (3) to suggest a manner in which these problems might be understood and moved towards resolution. The paper proposes the following three theses: (I) The fundamental identity of religious life must be grasped in terms of charism; (2) This understanding of religious life as charismatic raises profound problems that t6uch every aspect of its reality; (3) The office of the hierarchy is to discern an authentic charism from its counterfeit, while the exercise of this office is subject to the very real danger that excessiv6 legalism will quench the Spirit. One theme that contemporary philosophy and modern hermeneutics have insisted upon is this: Words have an effect like architecture. With architecture, you build the buildings, and then the buildings you live in build you. Similarly with language, you introduce terms into a discussion, 654 The Charism of Religious Life / {$55 and the language you admit either expands your perception of the issues or it hopelessly limits it. The concern of the early Fathers and Councils about language was not trivial: language forms our perception of reality. If our words are careless or precise, exaggerated or discriminating, we will have that kind of discussion. Even more, we will have that kind of perception of the very reality we are attempting to understand. Few contemporary Church leaders realized this better than PopePaul VI. He was painstaking, even scrupulous, in his selection of words. And it was this pope who introduced the vocabulary: "the charism of religious life" and "the charisms of the founders [bf religious communities] who were raised up by God .within his Church." ~ (ET II).The Second Vatican Council prepared for this stage of theological development, but Paul V1 brought it into articulation and existence. Charism and Rel!gious Life Lumen Gentium, in its critical second chapter, had spoken of the charisms given by the Spirit for the, renewal and building of the Church (12). Lumen Gentium, had distinguished the hierarchical girls from the charismatic girls (4, 7, 12). But Lumen Gentium never applied its doctrine on charism explicitly to religious life, though much of the theology of the gifts is contained in its sixth chapter, the section that deals with religious life in the Church. Similarly, ~Perfectae Caritatis contains many of these same elements and even adds an essential note missing from the previous Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, namely, that the origins of religious life lie with "'Spiritu Sancto afflante (under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit),' (l). But the word "charism" does not occur. It was Paul VI who took the Church~s general teachings about charism and the charismatic and applied them repeatedly during his pontificate to religious life. And the documents and the allocutiones of the present pontificate have continued this application. This usage of the more recent popes, however, has not gone unchallenged. Very recently, some have objected to the use of this term on two grounds: the word, "charism," is very difficult to define, and the Code of Canon Law does not include this term. Nevertheless, the present pope did use the term--and he did so specifi-cally in his Letter to the American Bishops, charging them to "encourage the religious, their institutes and associations to live fully the mystery of the redemption, in union with the whole Church and according to the specific charism of their religious life" (LTYR #3). The American bishops cannot step over this term: it frames the perspective on their mandate. It occurs three times in that same section of the papal .letter, specifying both the nature of religious life as a "proper ecclesiai charism" and reminding the 656 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 bishops that "in the local churches the discernment of the exercise of these charisms is authenticated by the bishops in union with the successor of Peter. This work is a truly important aspect of your episcopal ministry" (ibid). Furthermore: This charge to the American bishops is not an isolated phenomenon. Mutuae Relationes places the most critical responsibility of religious superiors precisely in this same '~erminology which others have found so dange~:ous: "Religious superiors have a grave duty, their foremost responsibility in fact, to assure the fidelity of the members tothe charism of the Founder by fostering the renewal prescribed by the Council and required by the times" (14c). The documents of the ,magisterium speak either of the charism of religious life in general or of the charism of a particular form of religious life. But two things should be noted in either case: First, when they speak about charism, they are speaking about what is fundamental to its identiiy. Second, this fidelity to charism involves change together with stability, a change demanded either by the conciliar documents or by the needs of the time. What does "charism" mean, then, and why is /he papal use of it so illuminative of the identity of religious life? The classic description of charism is given in the second chapter of Lumen Gentium (12b): ',It is not only through the sacraments and the ministrations of the Church that the Holy Spirit makes holy the People, leads them and enriches themwith his virtues. Allotting his gifts as he wills (l Co 12:l l), he also distributes specialgraces among the faithful of every rank. By these gifts, he. makes them fit and ready to undertake various tasks and offices for the renewal and building up of the Church, as it is written, 'the manifestaiion of the Spirit is given to everyone for the common good' (1 Co 12:7). Whether these charisms be very remarkable or more simple and widely diffused, they are to be received with thanksgiving and consolation since they arefitting and useful for the needs of the Church . Those who have charge over the Church should judge the genuineness and proper use of these gifts through their office, not indeed to extinguish the Spirit, but to test all things and hold fast to what is good"(l Th 5:12, 19-21). Erom this text we can affirm that the term "charism" includes the following notes: (1) The origin, of every charism is the Holy Spirit--not the hierarchy nor human structures. : (2) Its impetus, is distinguished from the action .of the Spirit in the sacraments and in the habitual ministrations of the Church's ministers. ¯ (3) Charism is by its nature a special grace, given to anyone of the faithful as an enabling gift for a specific ministry within the Body of Christ. 1he Charism of Religious Life (4) Its purpose is the renewal and the development of the Church¯ (5) The authenticity of a charism is to be tested and judged by the hierarchy--and the allusions to St. Paul's negative prohibition not to extinguish the Spirit indicates the danger that a.charism can be de-stroyed by the bad judgment of the very ones who are to judge and support it. Lumen Gentium and Perfectae Caritatis made two other significant contributions to the development of the identity of religious life as a char-ism. (l) Neither document discusses religious life in the juridical language of status or "the state of perfection to be acquired." Neither document uses the technical expression, "status perfectionis acquierendae"; while the word status is used six times in Lumen Gentium VI and only once in Perfectae Caritatis, it never becomes the principal or governing category. Status is recognized as a canonical term, but not given the position of being the organizing perspective through which religious life is understood. The his-tory of the title of Perfectae Caritatis indicates ~how progressive and delib-erate that exclusion was made. It is not that status could not be profitably used: its heritage can be traced from Pseudo-Dionysius' The Ecclesiastical Hierarchy, to the profound treatment 6f Saint Thomas--distinguishing officium, status, and gradus--to Provida Mater of Pius Xll. But the con-cept of status over these centuries has increasingly . become static, and a fundamental juridical category) Vatican II, by refusing to subsume reli-gious life under this juridical heading as its primary category, was clearing the way for the further theological developments of Paul VI. These docu-ments from the Council provided many of the elements in their description of religious life which would allow Evangelica Testificatio to bring them together under thegeneral rubric of charism. What the Church witnessed in Evangelica Testificatio, then, is a con-scious and radical shift--to be very precise, a categorical shift: from reli-gious life classified primarily.as a canonical reality, one whose forms a(e set and understood fundamentally in terms of juridical, even constitutional, structures, to a charismatic reality, whose forms and constitutions them-selves are ,judged by the classic signs of the Spirit and by the manner in which its members are configured to the life of Christ. Both charism and law are obviously necessary. Religious life is not a variation of antinomianism. But the question is what is categorical. And Paul VI has said that the fundamental category is charismatic: Charism has been given a priority over status.3 What the deliberate choice of the term "charism" asserts is'that religious life is directly dependent upon the Spirit, both for its origins and for its continually new forms. As Paul VI put it: "The charism of the religious 65~! / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 life, far from being an impulse 'born of flesh and blood,' or one derived from a.mentality which conforms itself to the modern world, is the fruit of the Holy Spirit, who is always at work within the Church" (ET l l)~ The various forms of religious ~life are derived from the charisms of the founders of these religious communities who were raised up by God through this gift of the Spirit. This charism of the founder does two things: It gives each religious community that dynamism which defines it--often called its par-ticular spirit--and it provides for the future a "certain constancy of orienta-tion" that allows for a continual revitalization and change in external forms (ET 12).4 The~development of a religious community, as opposed to its decline, lies with~the organicgrowth of its original and defining charism. Mutuae Relationes expanded this teaching, insisting with bishops that "they 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" (9c). Here the charism of the founder is stated precisely as "'an experience of the Spirit,' transmit-ted to their disciples to be lived, safeguarded, deepened and constantly developed by them in harmony with the Body of Christ continually in the process of growth" (1 !). It is this experience of the Spirit that gives the distinctive character to their religious communityi "This distinctive charac-ter also involves a particular style of sanctific.ation and of apostolate, which creates its particular tradition with the result that one can readily perceive its objective elements,' (11). impli~cations and Difficulties Now, for rather pragmatic Americans, this discussion of charism seems sound enough, but hardly earth-shattering---hardly important enough to wonder whether it is or is not in the Code. But it is the implications that are foundthreatening, implications which Mutuae Relationes is at pains~ to point out: "Every authentic charism implies a certain element of (1) genuine originality and of (2) special initiative for the spiritual life of the Church. In its surroundings, it may appear troublesome and may even cause difficulties, since it is not always and immediately easy to recognize it as coming from the Spirit" (12). Concretely and pragmatically, charism implies that religious life will always involve something that the Church has not seen before---or at least seen in this~way. Because of its novelty and its presence as an unforeseen impetus within the Church, charism may well mean the presence of the "troublesome," and. the presence of new difficulties and challenges to the Church.Call religious life a charism, and you have already said the Church expects to be continually challenged in many ways, and the hierarchy is The Charism of Religious Life / 659 :bound by God to the difficult and nuanced discernment of the authenticity of these challenges. Unlike status, whose structures can be determined adequately by law, charism presages the new, the creative, and the trouble-some. This has formed the history of religious orders over the Centuries, and for the United States it has been the history'of religious communities of men and women since Vatican II. An ~Example: During this time, a radically new articulation of the religious life:for women has come into consciousness and acceptance: many women are assuming both ministerial roles within the Church :hitherto reserved for men and have adopted small and: flexible community styles which have made these new missions possible. Women religious no longer necessarily dress in the same identical fashion, nor do they assume collec-tive tasks independent of their particular orientations, skills, and expe-rienced vocations. What is emerging in many religious orders is a thoroughly contemporary woman, as competent as her contemporaries in her accomp-lishments and in her extensive acquaintance with the issues and experiences of.,her times. This does not mean that either the initial spirit or the sound traditions of her order have been rejected. This may, of course, have occurred in some cases, but it has not been the rule. What this new order means is that many American religious communi-ties of women have transposed-,their heritage into a modern idi6m. This neither discredits nor invalidates other forms of religious life and the ch~irism of older forms of religious expression, any more than the active communi-ties of the nineteenth century were a rejection of Benedictine monasticism or of the clerks regular. But it does mean that something new is here. These religious communities of women have begun, perhaps for the first time in the Church, a synthesis of religious consecration and an inculturation into the forms of contemporary life--a synthesis made in service to their mission. If one looks at previous' external customs or previous regulations or even some° of the current mandates being stretched in the name of this growth:--that is, if one looks at religious life primarily as legal status, one can wonder at this phenomenon and question whether we are dealing with decline or infidelity. On the other hand, if one sees religious life primarily as charism, a charism that needs constitutions and laws for its objectification and constancy of~orientation; but not as the exhaustive or adequrite, state-ment of its nature, then one might wonder if we are not witnessing a flew 'impet.us of the .Spirit within the Church. Could it be the case that at a timein which women are assuming directive and leadi~rship roles within all forms of contemporary culture, the Spirit of God is raising up within the Church renewed or new charismatic communities, religious who will be just as individually characterized and 6611 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 just as culturally coordinate as theircontemporaries and impelled to this new inculturation by the very charism of their founders? If so, we may be witnessing a movement which will carry an importance to the Church similar to that of the rise of the mendicants in the thirteen century. Quite new--perhaps radically new but of, enormous importance to the future of the Church. But how is one to judge this? Another Example: Repeatedly Religious and Human Promotion en- .cou~ages .religious to be "enterprisingin their uridertakings and initiatives" because this is "in keeping with the charismatic and prophetic nature of religious life itself" (27; See 4a and 24). Placing the prophetic together with the charismatic and then asserting this hendiadys as characteristic of the nature of religious life, constitutes a significant challenge. Fidelity to the charism of religious life, then, could well involve religious in those activities which have alienated many people in the Church from them: speaking out about the morality of American intervention in Latin America, writing about discrimination even within the Church, demanding fair hiring prac-tices in local business, far ranging discussions within their national confer-ences of areas of injustice and oppression. Indeed, this document foresees precisely sucha development: "Confer-ences of religious, because of their more immediate knowledge of ecclesial and social conditions, are in a better position to identify the problems of different countries and continents. Through an exchange of experiences and study meetings, they could, in collaboration with the episcopal confer-ences and respecting the various charisms~ find solutions and means more in harmony with the hopes for integral human promotion" (35). When religious bring these subjects continually to the fore in their discussions and in their activities, and when they ask for episcopal collaboration in the exploration and elimination of these evils, are we not dealing with some-thing that issues from the very nature of religious life as a charism even when this elicits irritation from good Catholics or results in picket-lines, protests, and imprisonment? How are the bishops to judge, whether this is of God. however much it disturb expectations and social concord? Discernment, Not Repression These two examples raise the same questi~)n, as would many more that could be cited: How can one judge growth or decline? How can the hier-archy judge authentic charism, even authentic prophetic action when Mutuae Relationes (19) taught that "a responsiveness rich in creativ~ initia-rive is eminently compatible with the charismatic nature of the religious life"?. How can one test the Spirit, not quench it? Mutuae Relationes suggests three criteria by which this sifting of the The Charism of Religious Life / 661 genuine from the inauthentic can be done (51): First: Charism has "its special origin from the Spirit." Consequently the leaders of the Church can legitimately .expect that the signs which Galatians enumerates as present in aiathentic charismatic movement: "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such there is no law" (Ga 5:22-23). If these are present, one has every reason to suspect that the claim upon our conscience is from God. Secondly: "A profound ardor of love to be conformed to Christ in order to give witness to some aspect of his mystery." When I read this, I had to wonder what the Holy See had in mind here, and I think it is this: Charism always effects a particular configuration to Christ. This is espe-cially true in the mystery of his cross. Authentic charism will always be costly, will always entail an inescapable element of suffering and of the cross as one attempts to bring to the, contemporary: world or into the contemporary Church something that is truly of Christ. Authentic charism involves .a willingness (albeit with a sinking feeling) to undergo, to endure as did Christ. A previous paragraph in this same document put it this way: "The true relation between genuine charism with its perspectives of new-ness and interior suffering, carries with it an unvarying history of the connection between charism and cross, which, above every motive that may justify misunderstandings, is supremely helpful in discerning the authenticity of a vocation" (12). Finally: "A constructive love of the Church, which absolutely shrinks from causing any discord in her."-This does not mean that conflict can always be avoided, but that one spontaneously shrinks from causing it, that one does not revel in fights or get one's sense of identity from party' divisions and dissensions. Charism leads to the building up of the Church. Charism always involves three factors: It is an enabling gift of the Spirit which so conforms the recipients to Christ that they will build the Church. Mutuae Relationes has touched upon each one of these. This set of three criteria does not mean', that religious women or men will be without the faults and limitations of human beings, but it does mean that even in sinfulness these three religious attitudes will be basically present.5 Between the boldness of the new initiatives which the charismatic nature of religious institutes demands and the expectations of some members of the Church or of the hierarchy, there will be unavoidable moments of tension--tensions which are not resolved by eliminating either side of this dialectic: by quenching the Spirit or by disobedience to the hierarchy in the legitimate exercise of its leadership. Either would mean the destruction of the directive influence of the Spirit of God bringing the Church into this new age. It is possible for bishops (even culpably) to quench the Spirit, to fail to recognize 662/ Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 the charisms given by the Spirit; it is possible for religious to become incapable of serious self-criticism and to reject the need to submit the charism of their lives to the Church for its. discernment. Either of these spells out a disintegration of religious ~life, and both are real possibilities. This is the reason that Mutuae Relationes adds the following addendum to its three criteria: "Moreover, the genuine figure of the founders entails men and. women whose proven virtue (see LG 45) demonstrates a real docility both to the sacred hierarchy and to the following of that inspira-tion, which exists in them as a gift of the Spirit" (51): But these dangers become somewhat mitigated if all, the members of the Church come to, understand what Paul VI brought to expression: that what is most profoundly at issue here demanding prayer and discernment and those sufferings which go with any struggle to recognize the Spirit of God--is the radical identity of religious life as developing charism. The present pope has insisted in Redemptionis Donum that it is out of this that the apostolic presence of religious comes; the charism of every .religious order becomes a charism for the different, needs of the Church: "The apostolate is always born from that particular gift of your founders, which, received from God and approved by the Church, has become a charism for the different needs of the Church and the world at particular moments of history, and in its turn it is extended and strengthened in .the life of the religious communities as one of the enduring elements of the Church's life and apostolate" (15). Both Paul VI and John Paul 11 indicate the dynamic nature of the charismatic: Fidelity to the charism of the founder will demand the changes indicated by the Council and required by the times (ET 12; M R 11), A static understanding of charism leads some to think that religious pre-cisely in order to be faithful to their charism should remain jfist aS they were before, even despite the Council, the magisterial documents, and the needs of the time. But charism is essentially a living reality, and like every living reality confronts continually the questions of growth or decline, of development or disintegration. External changes, even radical external changes, can mean either. Stability and change are not opposed; they are coordinate. You can only change what remains the same; as Gilson remarked many years ago~ the only way you can keep the same fence is if you paint it often! Change is a necessity if the same thing is to continue. Charism involves both change and stability. There is no more reason a priori to expect that the contem-porary religious woman will look like the nuns from the middle ages or the sisters from the nineteenth century than to expect ~that the contemporary Church simply copy the primitive Christian community. The sober assess- The Charism of Religious Life ] 663 ment of this change constitutes the continual discernment done in most religious communities. It is in a parallel ongoing discernment by the hier-archy that their own office will be accomplished.For the major function of the hierarchy here is not so often to discern the charism of a radically new community, but to recognize the development of a charism in terms of a Church ~ind a world that is changing so rapidly. To be aware of the authentic presence of the developing cflarism within a religious community is to be conscious of its fundamental identity, found not in a static repetition of the past but in growth and continuity. NOTES ~The following abbreviations are used for documents of the magisterium to which reference is made in this article: From Vatican H LG Lumen Gentium: PC ¯ Perfectae Caritatis: From the Pontificate of Paul VI ET , Evangelica Testificatio: M R Mutuae Relationes: The. Dogmatic Constitution on the Church The Decree on the Renewal of Religious Life Apostolic Exhortation on the Renew-al of REligious Life Directives for Mutual Relations Between Bishops and R~ligious in the Church, published by CRIS/CB From thb Pontificate of Jo.hn Paul H ~ RH P Religious and Human Promotion CRIS CDRL Contemplative Dimen~io~ of Religious Life CRIS L'VI'R Letter of John Paul H to the Bishops of the United States. April3, 1983 EE Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religous Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate RD Redemptionis Donum: Apostolic Exhortation on Religious Consecration in the Light of the Mystery of Redemption 2See Bernard Olivier, O.P., "I! carisma della vita religiosa nel Concilio e nei documenti post-conciliari," Vita Consecrata 17 ( 1981), pp. 329-33 I. Father Olivier agrees with the previous evaluation of J. M. Tillard that the development within the Council ran as follows: "From the idea of religious state (stato religioso), thus from a perspective essentially static and juridical, from a consideration of the religious in their canonical 6~4 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 situation which characterizes theria in contrast with the laity and clerics, one arrives at the evangelica! and dynamic notion of life with everything which this implies about charity and human involvement" (ibid. pp. 329-330). See also the article by P. R. Regamey, O.P., under the title, "Carismi," Dizionario degli istituti diperfezione, edited by Guerrino Peliccia and Giancarlo Rocca, Vol. 11, columns 299-315~ 3This primacy of charism over legal description is classic in religious rules. Witness for example the "Preface" to the Constitutions of the SoCiety of Jesus: "Although it must be the Supreme Wisdom and Goodness of God, our Creator and Lord, which will preserve, direct, and carry forward in his divine service this least Society of Jesus, just as he deigned to begin it; and although what helps most on our part toward this end must be, more than any exterior constitutions~ the ~interior law of charity and love which the Holy Spirit writes and engraves upon hearts; nevertheless, since the gentle arrangement of Divine Providence requires cooperation from his creatures, and since too the Vicar of Ch'rist our Lord has ordered this, and since the examples given by the saints and reason itself teach us so in our Lord, we think it necessary that constitutions should be written to aid us to proceed better, in conformity with our Institute, along the path of divine service on which we have entered" ( The Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, translated and edited by George E. Ganss, S.J. [St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970]), "Preamble to the Constitutions," [#134]. 4The last word has not been either said or assimilated in this development initiated by the Council and brought to terminological articulation by Paul VI--otherwise it would have been impossible for Essential Elements to claim that the doctrinal richness of the magisterial teachings over the past twenty years "has been distilled and reflected in the revised Code of Canon Law." (3) No external legal structure is adequate to a reality whose identity is primarily charism. Hence the papal letter to the American bishops modifies that claim substantially with the statement: "Much of this doctrinal richness has been distilled and reflected in the revised Code." (3) Beneath the papal claim and that of Essential Elements lies the fundamental difference between the understanding of religious life primarily as a charism of the Spirit or as a juridical status. 5Mutuae Relationes provides a more particularized list for the discernment of authentic charism. Though cited above, it deserves to be included in full: ~The specific charismatic note of any institute demands, both of the founder and of his disciples, a continual examination regarding: fidelity to the Lord; docility to his Spirit; intelligent attention to circumstances and an outlook cautiously directed to the signs of the times; the will to be part of the Church; the awareness of subordination to the sacred hierarchy; boldness of initiatives; constancy in the giving of self; humility in bearing with adversities. The true relation between genuine charism, with its perspectives of newness, and interior suffering, carries with it an unvarying history of the connection between charism and cross, which, above every motive that may justify misunderstandings is supremely helpful in discerning the authenticity of a vocation" (12). "Ourselves, Our Church, Our Dreams": A Province Begins To Plan In early June, the Missouri Province 6f the Society of Jesus to6k a few days together to remember, to share, and to dream. They remembered their roots and their history; they shared their present and their presence to each other; and they began to dream together. Mindful that, in the words of Mutuae Relationes, n. 14 c, "Every ' institute exists for the Church and must enrich her with its distinctive characteristics, according to a particular spirit and a specific mission" (n. 14 c), and that "the particular Church is the historical space in which a ¯ vocation is exercised in the concrete and°realizes its apostolic commitment~ (n. 23, c), the Jesuits invited the shepherds of the Local Churches in which they labored to share with them their present concerns, and to d~eam with them for the future. Among the presentations offered, those published here seem to trans-cend their relevance to their immediate audience. They may well have a value for all religious, serving as pointers and reminders, as models and spurs for the continuing search of individuals and of communities in their constant search for better ways of serving their Lord. ' ~A Local Bishop Speaks to the Province--I John L. May" Archbishop of Saint Louis In preparing these thoughts I did some reading in the history of the Society, the work of the Society through the centuries, and especially its work here in this Local Church. I have been in this see but five years, and how quickly the time has passed. But your corporate presence here has passed well beyond the centennial mark. 665 666/ Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 In preparing these remarks I consulted with a particular Jesuit, a former provincial from another country. I asked his counsel about what emphases I might give, and his response reflected what 1 know to be your own concern, as it was the concern of Ignatius himself, and has been reflected in your history from the beginning. He stated emphatically: "The first and most important thing is working in close union with the local bishop." ¯ That is often a problem from both sides. It is simply not easy to keep in close contact, to share effectively what we are doing and hope to do. But when we don't make the effort, when we don't successfully cope with these difficulties, the result is that both of us--the Society and the Local Church--suffer. At the time of your last General Congregation, Father Dezza, speaking to this same .former provincial, said that in his estimate ninety per cent of the problems the Society experienced in Rome arose from complaints of bishops. That is sad; it is tragic. Bishops will often complain of a certain elitism on the part Of Jesuits, an elitism that is perceived as separating them and their labors from the rest of the work that is going on in a diocese. As a matter of fact, this was also the criticism of Father John Tracy Ellis in an address he delivered some years ago to the Jesuits of New England and later reprinted in Thought magazine. My own experience down south, however, has been y.ery good. The local Jesuit pt?ovincial was extremely solicitous in this regard. He came regularly to visit and to review every single work that we were doing together,, every single appointment, every single new. project which would have a bearing on the diocese. This was the way that we always worked. In a small diocese like Mobile, this made for very coordinated labors. The first point, then, that I would want to share With you, and it is always difficult to make very concrete, is the close union that we must have~ bishops and Jesuits, in working together. Otherwise, there will inevit-ably arise on the part of the bishop either an apparent paternalism, seem-ingly an effort to control everything, to know about everything, to check up on everything, or there will be a perceived negligence, a seeming indif-ference to what is happening in his diocese. In these times above all, we must all hang together or we shall surely hang separately. Secondly, a work that is characteristic of your Society in the Local Church, and one that is important to my topic for today, is scholarship. In that same address of Father Ellis, a Jesuit superior is reported to have complained that a number of Jesuits are convinced that scholarship is necessary, indeed they join the lament of those who clamor that Catholic A Province Begins to Plan scholars are few and far between; but then, when these same Jesuits are given Opportunity for scholarly pursuits, they promptly gallop off to dissi-pate themselves in other, greener pastures. If they are given time to read and write, too often we find that these Jesuits soon become involved in preaching, in retreat work, or in some other immediately rewarding directly apostolic task. Certainly you would not expect a diocesan bishop to belittle the value of these apostolic works. It is simply that, as Father Ellis has told us many times, "Scholarship is a jealous mistress." Truly significant scholarly achievement requires a spiritual and intellectual asceticism that is prepared even to forgo directly apostolic and priestly work for the lonely but valuable, and always necessary, labor of study, research and writing. Those few who are capable of such work should stick to it. Indeed, they need the encour-agement of the rest of us if they are to continue to do so. They need our grateful recognition of their attainments. How much we have needed that kind of scholarship in these days. The need for clear, insightful analysis of what is happening in the Church and in our society remain~ great. What a tremendous gift it is to a Local Church to have a number of truly scholarly priests'and religious within its borders-- people who are resource persons in the be~t sense of the term. Thirdly, there is another work for which the Society is rightfully well known from its beginning. ! am told that, though St. Ignatius didn't perceive its value for the Society immediately, even during his lifetime he came to see how the work of education was going to be vital to the life and ministry of the Society. Again, what a magnificent contribution you have made to Local Churches from the days of the Ratio Studiorum of 1599. What has been accomplished for the Local Church in the course of these centuries! Certainly I can speak of.what I perceive here in Saint Louis. But in my past experience as well, 1 have perceived what Spring Hill College has meant to the whole community of Alabama. It was th.efirst institution of higher education in .the entire state, founded even before the state Univer-sity of Alabama! The implications of that fact in terms of service to the larger community are obvious. Here about us there is evident the magnificent contribution made by Saint Louis University for this entire community, but even more so for the Local Church. There are also your two high schools here. It is a tragic thing, at least in the opinion of this local bishop, to see in our time the abandonment of education by some religious communities in the Local Church. We talk so much about consulting the people, the laity. If there is one 668 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 thing 1 hear from the laity, it is the plea for good Catholic schools. This is the plea of our people. True it may be that their concept may be different from ours in what they look for and expect from their schools. But, if we consult seriously what the people think, that is their constant plea. And you are meeting it here. My fourth heading has to do with the missions. Jbsuits have constituted a major missionary society of the Church down through the centuries. Ordinarily in this context we think about the "foreign missions." We tend to think thus invariably, automatically--and sometimes exclusively. But, coming as I do from my involvement in the Catholic Church Exten-sion Society, I have a few thoughts about the home missions as well! In light of my own thoughts, I am convinced that, as from the days of Father DeSmet:and the work of Jesuits which has gone on and continues to go on am.ong the Native American people, much of your missionary emphasis, especially now and in the immediate future, could well be focused on our own "home" missions. What is "mission"?. As we know, in the aftermath of Vatican I1 there was a vast reassessment of the concept of "missions'." There was much questioning--sometimes destructively so--about the work of missionaries, about what had been done through the centuries in the name of missions. Today, though, I am sure we all agree that some of the neediest mis-sions are in the hearts of our major cities--right here in "River City," and in so many, many other places. When we talk about liberation, liberation from all the consequences of discrimination and poverty and suffering throughout the world, we should also become awareof all the destructive consequences wrought within our very own society. Our people, perhaps, aren't impoverished in the same sense as are people so often in the foreign-mission lands, but they really are poor--poor in so many other ways. Hence the importance of your work in the poor parishes of our cities, where you labor day in and day out. Noted, too, if not so directly parochial in their scope, are your other works of. evangelization for the poor and for others: the Living and Learn-ing program, the work of the Sacred Heart Hour; your preaching aposto-lates, the columns that are written in our Saint Louis Review. All of this constitutes a great mission work that you are doing, algreat and important mission work in the Local Church. In no way would I want to downgrade your work in foreign lands. These are most important. But sometimes we do not see clearly enough the mission work that needs to be done so badly right here for go many, many people. These, too, truly need to be liberated from the restricted outlook and malevolent influences which are at work in their lives. A Province Begins to Plan A fifth heading recalls your retreat work, indeed, your spiritual work of all kinds. Here again is a great apostolate of the Society from the very beginning, based upon the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius himself. The retreat movement, as we remember, was questioned in so many ways foi: some years. But now it is again valued as a work that is more necessary today perhaps than ever before. It is a work that is so important because it keeps before our people in a more profound and personal way the Good News they need to hear. There are so many people in positions of leadership in this community who tell me that th.ey keep in touch with the things that really matter because of the retreat that they regularly make at your White House. Then there is the work of counseling and spiritual direction! So many people come day after day to your confessionals here--even today when, to all appearances, the sacrament is scarcely appeciated. But the numbers who come to the downtown chapels--the Alverne, your College Church, and other such places--attest to the importance of that. ministry. Many people really do want it. .Campus Ministry assists the young people who more and more in these days are sensing their spiritual need. It wasn't so long ago that there seemed to be no young people coming to us, no young people interested in what we had to offer them. But now that, too, is changing. Once again.we begin to see them realizing their great need and we recognize the important work that is being done with our young people. Let us tak~ some words of Mother Teresa for our closing thought. Sometimes she seems like a modern-day Catherine of Siena who, reportedly illiterate, became a Doctor of the Church, and has a permanent influence in the life .of the Church. Mother Teresa, herself without great educational background, has said some things which we all need tO ponder. One such observation she has made is that the Church languishes today, not because it asks too much from the~modern age, but because it asks too little. It has tried to make its faith plausible when it should have presented the high, hard way of Christ, without compromising his demand for the total sacrifice of self. Total sacrifice of self! Is not this an essential constituent of Ignatian spirituality? We all need to hear this message. We need to see it lived in the lives of Jesuits; we need to hear it preached in their teachir~g, in their counseling, everywhere. As one bishop, I can attest personally, but also pastorally, that I have received so much from the Society under all these five headings. And I will ever be in your debt. 671~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 A Local Bishop Talks to the Province--2 Richard C. Hanifen Bishop of Colorado Springs, Colorado l am delighted to speak after Archbishop May and to pick up from: his conclusion, namely to treat with you further about the concept of Ignatian~ spirituality in the Local Church. Archbishop May and I had decided earlier that we would proceed in this fashion because of the one principal Jesuit presence in my diocese: the Sacred Heart Retreat House in Sedalia. To me,.this is an extremely impor-tant part of our new diocese and a source of great pride to us. It also provides me with an obvious occasion for reflecting with you about Igna-tian spirituality in the context of the Local Church. First of all, permit me to review what I see as actually happening in the Local Churches. I will~ reflect on this in terms of priests, religious, and :laity. First o,f all, what is happening with priests, specifically with diocegan priests--though ultimately you will see the same happening among you religious priests. Diocesan priests are being opened through suffering. They are learning the role that Jesus learned from the Father: they are learning obedience through suffering. Well, so are you. They are being opened up with a can-opener to a sense of their need for spirituality. They have found that they are a very needy group of men. There is a new awareness of their need for a deepening spirituality. Young priests are actually seeking contemplation. I can recall the days not so very long ago when seminarians wouldn't let you Jesuits direct silent retreats. But things are different now. Young priests are seeking contempla-tion- including specifically Ignatian forms of contemplation.-. Priests are also increasingly seeking fraternity. One of the phenomena that is becoming more and more common among diocesan priests, and also among religious, is the Jesus Caritas form of spiritually based, priestly fraternity; they are.seeking out the Emmaus form of priestly fraternity; there is the Ministry to Priests movement of Vince Dwyer, and tother programs as well. This is actually what is happening now. It is the reality. Bishops themselves are also seeking priestly fraternity through the Jesus ,Caritas or the,Emrnaus models. Throughout the country more and more bishops are joining into. fraternity for prayer, in recognition of their ¯ spiritual needs. Regarding religious, this is what I see happening. Many women reli-gious especially are now living and working apart from their respective communities. They are allowed, even encouraged, to make their personal A Province Begins to Plan / 671 discernment and to find their own jobs. A result of this new situation is that it is creating the need for community where these religious actually are. Many of them, living in apartments rather than corivents, are looking for spiritual and companionate forms of living that don't come from their own religious communities. ¯ These religious are also looking for healing in their lives--the healing of woimds which are coming to them from the new forms of their ministry among our people. They are no longer teaching in grade and high schools, as Archbishop May mentioned. Rather many of them are pastoral ministers, working in parish scenes where the pain is oozing out of people every day. They are wounded healers, and they are looking for healing themselves. Often'enough they can't find this healing from their own community which is at a remove from them. They need the grace and the awareness of the discernment of the Holy Spirit in their lives--surely a key concept of Ignatian spirituality. How are they to discern their life-plan? In terms of the laity, "peer ministry" is already here. It is not coming, it is already here. Lay people are ministering to one another. Para-parochial and other experiences are developing among our laity a new awareness of their need for a deepening spirituality in their lives. The Cursilio move-ment, Marriage Encounter, TEC, Search, Parish Renewal, Renew, and the newly forming Basic Christian Communities are demanding of lay people that they themselves become ministers, and the kind of ministers they are going to be is going to depend on the spiritual formation that can be given to their lives. I see "Pop Spirituality" as 'being "in" now. More and more 'lay people are studying spiritual direction in order to become spiritual directors to other lay people. That is not coming. It is here. Not altogether Unrel~ited to this phenomenon, I see a growing concern among the clergy, especially diocesan clergy; over the question of their own role as counselors and spiritual directors in the'lives of lay people. You may have noticed that across the country clergy are becoming more and more liable to civil lawsuits over their counseling practices. That is a reality which, whether we realize it or not, is having an impact on their willingness to enter into spiritual direction and into counseling relationships with lay people. Some are .beginning to back away altogether from counseling. What will happen there? I see also,~ as you do, growing forms o~'ecumenical counseling groups in our cities. People are now seeking out those whom they feel Understand what they term Christian Counseling. And that is a phenomenon with many ramifications, because many of those getting into what is called 672 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 Christian C~unseling Centers are Fundamentalist Christians, and they counsel rather differently than we would. I see also a growing dichotomy between spiritual formation and social responsibility. By way of concluding, then, I would like to recommend the following to the Jesuit community as it discerns, with .the help of the Spirit, its own present and its own future: --In regard to priests and bishops, I hope that the Jesuit community will continue its commitment to spiritual direction. Permit me to share with. you just one case in point in our diocese of Colorado Springs. At the Sacred Heart Retreat Center, your Father Jerry Borer conceived the idea of becoming a "circuit,riding" spiritual companion to our priests. And so he goes on the road monthly, reaching out to our priests where they are. In his visits he spends the night with these priests. Heeats with them and talks with them. Those who want spiritual direction get it. Those who want to go to confession get it. Those who just want a priest-friend get that also, This program is meeting with more and more appreciation. At a recent convention of our priests, it was brought up as one of the real strengths of our young diocese, It also represents, I think, a creative use of Ignatian spirituality. In fact, the overall Sedalia ministry itself is a powerful influence in the diocese. It is pow~erful also for priests and bishops. I am excited about ~ome of the construction that is going on there at the present time because it indicates your growing commitment to the possibility of developing Pous, tinias, hermitages of a sort, for diocesan priests. I really think they are going to ask for such. The tougher things get, the more they are going to want to find hermitage! --Archbishop May and I have been together on more than one occasion for an eight-day directed spiritual retreat according to the Ignatian style. This is something that is going on across the country, in case you didn't know it. It represents, I think, another instance of Jesuits sneaking into the Local Church, this time through the souls of the bishops. You talk abou~t the pastoral letters which are coming in a steady stream from the bishops. You talk about the way that American bishops are be~having nowadays, something which is of no little concern to everybody-- including the American bishops. Where is that coming from? Why are bishops now beginning to act like brothers instead of competitors? It is because they are praying together! That is why. And that is growing. And your contribution to this phenomenon is bigger° than you know. --In terms of the laity, the phenomenon of lay ministry has shown me A Province Begins to Plan / 673 something that I don't know if any of us really expected. We thought that, as we ran out of priests, lay people would rush in to take over those ministries., They did! But when they got in there, they found out they needed more priests! They found that the more they minister, the more they need "priesting." There is no less need for priests now because the laity are active in the Church. There is more need. But what will be the role of the priests in their lives? Lay ministers, too, need spiritual healing. They, too, are being wound-ed-- as I said about religious--by their ministry. Too often this wounding is done by their pastor. Obviously, he can't be their healer. Who will? So they also are looking for hermitage--in one sense or another. In growing numbers the laity are coming for spiritual direction. Those of you in retreat work know that you are not just doing retreats on weekends anymore. You are dealing with lay women during the week; you are dealing with lay persons coming for individual retreats. They need growth and healing in order to become healers themselves. You can help them. --I hope that you will be able, somehow, to move into the area of training lay spiritual directors. I am not really convinced that it is being done right. I am a little worried about the form of direction that is sometimes going on. There really is a kind of a "Pop Spirituality" going the rounds which is not altogether healthy. I would like to see the Jesuit community take a serious look at how you can contribute your Ignatian spirituality ~o the training of lay people to become spiritual directors. --I would like also to see develop within the Local Church a spiritual approach to social justice. Let me reflect on that for a few minutes. I am in a city that is dedicated to war--in the name of peace! °The city really is dedicated to war. I don't mean to put down the people in the defense industry and in the militai'y. But the city of Colorado Springs is surrounded by four war-camps. One Easter Sunday I said that if they ever declare peace, we'll go broke. How do I minister in the city of Colorado Springs to people whose livelihood comes from the prospect of war? What would happen to their lives if we ever did declare peace? Who will help them to face the reality of their livelihood--and the livelihood of our nation--which is. actually a war-based economy? Who will address what lam calling here the spirituality of social justice? Frankly I don't think we have yet discovered the way to do it. May .I challenge you to help us? ~. Is there, in fact, a way in which persons skilled in Ignatian spirituality can take a community, work in it for a long period of time--because 674/~Reviewfor Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 credibility is key to getting through to people's spiritual lives--in order to help a diocese to address questions of social justice from the standpoint of their integral spiritual nature? I really would love to see that happen. This would mean that somehow we need to be helped to address the question of simplicity of life, the question of concern for others, and really the question of our education, to a large extent, concerning the Third and Fourth Worlds. Who can help us with that? --In regard to religious. I would ask that you continue and enhance your efforts to help religious women especially to develop a life-plan by which they can satisfactorily minister in the community, to help them become healed even as they are wounded in their ministry to others. These are some of my hopes from Ignatian spirituality within the Local Church. These are some of the ways in which I can see the Society of Jesus ministering in and to the Local Church. My Dream Jarrel Wade, S.J. Pastor of Zampul, Honduras I would like to begin with the Church that I know, the Church of Hondu-ras. And when I talk now, I am thinking of communities that are sociologi-cally small towns, villages--places where still the Word of God has not had the effect it should. I would dream that the Church would be inspired to take this Word and make it heard clear and strong: the Word of Jesus--of him who .saves. And 1 would like to se6 among all my people, as I have seen in some of their, lives, that when people do take this Word into their hearts they are changed. As they begin to read it, to meditate and live by the Word of God, they begin, to love where they have never loved before. They begin to forgive one another. And they begin to seek the teaching of the apostles. This is conversion. And once it is started, it never ends,, Above all, I have found that the sign that the Word is being proclaimed, the sign that proves that God is present in his Word, present in the person of Jesus to whgm the written word of Scripture leads us, is that. this Word leads men to love one another. It leads to brotherhood. It leads to thinking about others in your town, in your family. It leads to giving yourselves to, others. P~ople share their lives when they have heard this Word. They share their goods. They share their persons. A Province~Begins to Plan / 675 " l desire that the Church be able to bring it to pass that every person might be able to hear the name of Jesus. That is the beginning of salvation. It is the beginning of life. One Of the ~greatest,sadnesses that I experience in my life is that | am not able to preach this Word effectively enough and' to live it visibly enough so that those to whom | preach, with whom I live, would immediately want to change~ It' hurts me to see people that are humble and poor not be able to open themselves to this life-giving Word. The Church has to rethink its message. It has to speak its message clearly to all the world: Christ is its Savior. Then I would like to see in the whole Church what I have seen these days here among my brother Jesuits, and what I would like to see among my own people at home. I would like to see'among them the celebration of the presence of God in their lives, according to their own cultures and in whatever ways ~they can. 1 would like to see them bring'to their liturgy lives that are in union with what they believe with what they live in the midst of their families, what they live in their civil lives: what goes on in govern-ment and what goes on in the buying and selling of their marketplaces. I would like to celebrate with them the fact that a man's Word speaks the truth of his life. Finally, 1 would like to 'see them celebrate the fact that they really do give themselves to others. When people are! able to celebrate the presence of God ambng them-selves, what ~ve see is that men and women learn to walk together to satisfy their common needs. We see that they try to not dominate the way that others think and the way that others decide. They leave people free.' They respect this po~,er to decide and to love in others, and they want to give this freedom to the community, to enable the community to grow. Domi-nation must be stopped--in the Church, and in civil 'life." I would like to see respect for each person. I would like to see us learn to listen to each other's thoughts, however ~simple and uncomplicated they be. I would like to see us respect each one's sincere decision to live accord: ing to each one's own 'lights. :~ I would also like to s(e how these Christians, heating the Word of God, and hoping in his promises, learn that it is possible to not hate, that it is possible toforgive, thiat it is possible to live as brothers and sisters, that it is possible that the shadow of God's kingdom is actually upon us. A campesino once tbld me that the kingdom of God is seen when, in our lives; we are llke the shadow of that kingdom. People can see that something is coming. They can see that something is present. It is almost h~re--but it is not yet: I would lik~e to see that with thi~ hearing of the Word of God there 676 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 comes a commitment of our lives, a consecration of all that there is in our lives for us as priests, for everyone in our baptism. I would like to see that each one of us, by our way of acting, might give forth to the world the Word that the Iov6 of God is greater than the hate that there is in the world, that we all can break bread together as brothers and sisters., This is my vision of the Church. This means that bishops and priests and religious have a definite role to play, a definite place to serve. We should not dominate the laity, and, especially .today, we must learn to become sensitive so as no longer to dominate women. As I look at the Society and at our province, I would like to see each one of us be a man of prayer, a man who can be alone, a man who can test his spirit in the presence of God. And I would like that this solitary prayer be a priestly prayer, that it enflame a burning desire in us that, by whatever we do, somehow all might come to know Christ's Name and love him. I would like to see this prayer transform our lives, so that we might show the world how to live as brothers and sisters. I would also like to see for our Society that we might all be men of the Church, and at the same time, men deeply imbued, men deeply touched by the reality of humanity. I would like to see our Society continue to resist atheism in all its forms-- even in our own lives. I would like to see from those of you who would be in the cutting edge of thought and practice, that through you we might have a significant part in the renewal of the Church. Especially I would like to see us as the forerunners (in the most literal sense) in a faith that is lived, seeking social justice, seeking peace among nations and men. And above all, and this without any power, I would like to see us defend the hiamble people, the defenseless, the poor, the needy--and to do this, I would tend to add, as Christ did. I would also like to see our Society and our province continue to be made up of "Men of the Word" men who are continually meditating on the written word which leads us to the Person who is Jesus. I would like to see us give this Good News to give Jesus to the world. I would like to see us learn how'to adapt this Word to all place~ and to all cultures and to all times., so that men could become free even from themselves and learn to be Christ to one another. I would like to see us, as Jesuits, in all our apostolates be men who confirm the faithful in their faith, who strengthen the Church as a sign of salvation and liberation for all especially those outside it. I would also like to see in our province and in the Society that we be authentic men. I would like to see that the authenticity of our apostolates A Province Begins to Plan / 677 manifest itself in "our way of proceeding.'.' We are different. We do have particular way of acting. And, as done by this discerning community that is the :Society, I would like to see verified the mission of each. one of .us. I would like our austerity of life, our poverty, to make us credible. I would also like to see the further practice of this discernment--which is so difficult and so seldom seen in our communities, but at the same time so dearly desired by all of us--so that our Society might continue to make its option preferentially for the poor in its service of the faith and through our promotion of justice. If this discernment is to happen, there must be prayer in the community and in our lives. For this discernment to happen, we must also know human reality. We must be among the people. We must feel the pulse of the times. We should be able to do this at all levels of society, but especially at the level of those who do not have a voice, at the level of the poor. And in this discerning community, I would like to see us try to determine where the Spirit is leading us, how many things we would have to change, what we would have to do if the Spirit of Christ, the Spirit of love and brotherhood were to penetrate our lives. In sum, permit me to list "My Desires": 1. I desire to be "a companion of Jesus the Lord." 2. There is a desire which, in these last years, has become very strong in me, even as I recognize that I am not near arriving there. I desire to find the presence of God, of the Lord, in people-~in people with faces and noses-in concrete people: in the people of my parish; people who love me and people who don't love me. In this sense I would sincerely desire to have this capacity to find God in all. I would like to lead the people that I serve in this, too. 3. I would like to grow in union with Jesus Christ in prayer. 1 would like to be a man who is sincerely one with Christ--in my weakness and in my strength. 4. I desire to draw the people I deal with, especially the young, to a service of the Church, and of society, for the renovation of the world. ! would like to call these people to renovate their faith, to grow again, to be reborn. I desire that the crucial work of announcing the Name of Jesus be given to the layman, to the religious, and to the priest alike; and that this announcement of the Word in the Church Would renovate us as well, would make us new again. And I would desire that, by our announcing of this Word, faith and life might be united in us, that out of this union of faith and life there might result a more just world, a more brotherly world. 5. I desire to be forgiven for all my faults, for my lack of love. I desire to be gentle. 678 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 , 6. I desire to w6~k among thepoor campesino~ who labor in th~ fields in the parish of Zampul. I want to help them enter into the New Church. I want to learnfrom them: I want to learn their patience. I want to learn their dependence on God their absolute dependence on him. 7. I. will even share this with you: I want their God to be my God. I want their people to be my people. ! want their land to be my land. I want to be buried in Honduras. 8. At the same time, I want to obey. I want to serve where the Church and the Society call me. I want to be a Jesuit. Christ the Center of Our Vowed Life by Boniface Ramsey, O.P. Father Ramsey's three articles on the vows of religion are available as a single reprint: i o The Center of Religious Poverty ii - Christocentric Celibacy iii - Cruciform Obedience Price: $1.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The Holiness of Saint Francis: Spiritual Vision and Lived Suffering Matthias Neuman, OS.B. Father Neuman's last article, "The Benedictine Prayer of Beauty," was published in the November/December issue of 1984. He continues to reside and teach at St~ Meinrad Archabbey; St. Meinrad, IN 47577. The twentieth-century Greek novelist Nikos Kazantzakis in his spiritual autobiography, Rdport to Greco, relates an experience in his own life when he visited the village of Assisi. He went there particularly to learn and absorb something of the spirituality of St. Francis. As he was walking through the small streets of the town trying to imbibe the feel of that unusual city, he happened upon another visitor to Assisi, a man from D~nmark. They struck up a conversation, as tourists from various coun-tries often do when they speak a common language. And discovering that they were engaged in the same, process of searching for the spirit of Francis, they spent the rest of the day together. They walked through the town and down into the valley to visit the Portiuncula. They visited the small hermit-ages on the outsirts of Assisi. As they passed these hours they shared their hopes and feelings a.nd understandings of Francis. Kazantzakis says they lost all sense of time as they spoke about the vision and spiritual quest of Francis. Toward evening he returned to the home of the friends with whom he was staying. As he walked through the door, they asked, "Who was that man you were walking and talking with?" He replied, "It was just a tourist from Denmark I met." They continued, "You were talking about Francis, weren't you?" "Yes," he said puzzled, "how did you know?" "Because," they explained, "as the two of you walked and spoke there seemed to be a glow that radiated from both of you~" 679 6110 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 That story illustrates well the mystique and power that the vision of Francis still holds for people hundreds of years later. Most people with a scholarly outlook on the history of Christian spirituality, of the many ways that individuals have sought to relate to the mystery of God in their lives, have been attracted by Francis of Assisi, by his personality, by his actions and vision. Sir Kenneth Clark, in his brilliant portrayal of the high points of Western civilization, calls Francis a religious genius, the "greatest I believe that Europe has ever produced." Francis led a renewal in Christian spiritu-ality that was long desired by many, but which, until Francis, had been accomplished by none. He became the pinnacle of the medieval quest for a total reformation in Christian and ecclesial living. To the popular Christian mind, that multitude who know a few facts about Francis, he remains one of the most attractive and appealing of Christian saints. He was an individual who desired to follow Jesus alone; he wished to strip himself of every other concern, save the total following of Jesus Christ. That was the real goal of his ideal of poverty. The simple and total following of Christ gave him such a joyfulness and a trust that he. could call the sun his brother and the moon his sister. He could feel such a brotherhood with nature and be filled to overflowing with enthusiasm that to preach a sermon to the birds seemed the natural thing to do. This was the religious spirit that exuded from his hear(. This Francis is surely one of the most popular of Christian saints. Both the scholarly and the popular views of Francis are justifiable. They represent two different ways in which he serves as a model of holiness for Christians, In this article we want to look at Francis to see how he provides a guide, a direction, a way into a deeper relationship with God. The popular image of Francis, the Francis of joy, the Francis of communi6n with nature, .the Francis who lived in simplicity, is built upon the ideals that he sought to live out in his relationship with God. That popular image provides us with a learning that we need to reflect on and to pray over. The spirituality of any Christian believer needs a vision, an ideal, to provide a direction just as Francis had in his life. That ideal vision of the man of poverty and joy wh,o loved nature is one aspect of Francis' holiness. But there is another dimension of the holiness of Francis, one which revolves far more around the real facts.of life: the trials, the struggles and the suffering he endured in trying to live out his ideal. For Francis sought to live his religious vision in the midst of a society that did not understand or appreciate what he was trying to accomplish. Even the official leaders of his church struggled to grasp how his vision could possibly be called Christian. They could not understand him; they misunderstood him; they frequently caused him great pain. Francis lived 1he Holiness of Saint Francis / 6111 with pain and suffering all his life, endured it, offered it up, made it a means of his growing identification with the Mystery of Christ. In both his spiritual vision and in the lived suffering of his career Francis is a saint of the Church, a saint and a model for us. In this article I would Jike to reflect on both of these aspects of his life. Let us begin by seeking to grasp more clearly his ideals. Spiritual Vision The best place to begin our sefirch is to examine Francis' own conver- ¯ sion. The historical sources do not provide that much clear informatiofi about his life; many stories and legends grew up and infiltrated themselves early into the histories of his life. It is often difficult to say whether or not an event or episode, even those well-known in popular lore, really depict what actually happened. Still we.can sketch the major events and outlines of his career. He was born around the year llSl or 1182 in the town of Assisi. Assisi lies in the provihce of Umbria in centrhl Italy about a hundred miles northeast ~f the city of Rome. As far as we know, his parents were good people. His father was a successful cloth ~erchant who traveled to foreign countries to sell his wares and make purchases. His mother seemed to have been a pious and quiet individual wholiked to pray and who made pilgrimages to the holy places of that time. Francis himself appears to have grown up as an average young man, even a bit more frivolous than most. He liked fine clothes and parties and enjoyed.showing la bellafigura, as many youngmen did. Francis grew up as a typical young man of medieval Italy in a family of the rising merchant class. He breathed the ',crusading ideal," somewhat romantically, as did many of the. young people of his day. The city-states of the Italian peninsula of that age carried on running feuds with,neighboring cities; Assisi and the principal town of Umbria, Perugia, were no exceptions. Hostilities between the two towns broke out in 1202 and Francis volunteered gallantly, to fight ~for Assisi. His military career was short-lived; he was taken hostage in his first battle. Through some means, perhaps a ransom paid by his father, Francis was released and soon afterwards he was once again in the city of Assisi. Sometime after this military episode, perhaps around 1204-1206, changes begin to occur in Francis' behavior and attitudes. It is the onset of a radical conversion. Historical sources do not clearly explain why this begins, or whether it occurs suddenly or slowly builds over a period of time. (The popular episode of the crucifix speaking to Francis is a later addition, telescoping a lengthy complex period into a single divine act--a frequent practice of traditional hagiography). In this period Francis seems to have lost his sense of direction and what he wanted to accomplish in life. 6~12 ] Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 He began to exhibit strange behavior. Moods of depression overwhelmed him and at times he would take cloth from his father's store and either sell it and give the money to the poor or simply distribute it to the poor living in huts on the outskirts of Assisi. He would disappear.for days at a time, going into the hills to pray. In this conversion period of about five years his ideal of perfection and spiritual vision slowly takes shape. His conversion creates a radical rupture; Francis leaves the world of his familial upbringing and the societal values of his culture. He forges his own unique set of Christian ideals to form a spiritual vision of life. First, Francis came to realize and tograsp deeply in his heart that to have real meaning and true direction in life requires a radical following of Jesus Christ. ~He had surely heard that read often in church, but it seems now for the first time to have really struck home. The realization crept into the depths of his heart and he began to make changes in the way he lived and acted. Francis frequently said we must put on Christ as completely as possible. That meant radically and totally! At the basis of any authentic Christian conversion is this selfless imitation of Jesus. This conversion needs a beginning point and Francis saw the process beginning with the practice of poverty, the ridding oneself of the pressures of all worldly possession s. He heard the Gospel passage one day in church: "If you would be perfect go and sell all that you have, give it to the poor and come follow me" (Mt 19:21). Francis heard those words and he took them sincerely to heart. For him the goods of this world, any possessions that we have, material or mental, create anxiety. They create worry and begin to blur our values. There. is a story told in the Franciscan legends about a young noyice who came and asked Francis for a little book of psalms so he could learn his prayers. He knew. that Francis adamantly insisted that the brothers are to own nothing. Nonetheless the novice made his plea: "Just a little praye~ book." Francis. so the story goes, looked at him and said: "Just a prayer book! And when you have that, then you will want a breviary! And after you have a breviary you'll want one decorated with all manner of jewels. And after you get that, you'll want to sit in a chair and pray your breviary like a bishop does. And after that you'll want a servant to bring you your book while you sit in the chair and pray from your beautifully decorated breviary. Just a psalter? No, no. no." Francis deeply believed that he should own absolutely nothing except the clothes on his back. He wanted no land, no permanent hom~e, no extra clothes: he sought to wander as a beggar, to live in abandoned buildings, and to eat only what he could beg from people. Needless to say, Francis' ideal was extremely controversial even in his own day. Many churchmen insisted it could not be lived by normal people. Francis said it could and he did it. If The Holiness of Saint Francis one is to radically follow Christ, then one must give up the values of the society, the wealth and.theproperty that impose a network of concern on you. While poverty was the linchpin and the controversial topic of Francis' program, in his mind it really prepared the way for the even more important principle of true freedom. Freedom of heart allowed him to really trust in God's providence: Poverty was the means, not the end! The following of Christ meant that you could come to that point in your life when the trust of God was honestly and truly your daily support. Not ' possessions ~or power or status or intelligence, neither insurance policies nor well-placed friends; only ,a simple trust in God. This also touches the meaning of obedience in Francis' mind; we place ourselves in God's hands no matter what happens in this life. Christian obedience is fundamentally our willing-ness to accept this life and be content with it ~in the way that God gives it to us, Francis' socially active life in his family and culture gave him no real peace. His peace and his trust appeared when he put himself completely in God's hands .to accept whatever life gave him. That same trust .in God's providence, which Francis lived better than anyone else, led him to believe, in the goodness of creation and our need for a close association and harmony with all natural things. For Francis one of the ~clearest evidences, of God's' beautiful providence lies in the stunning beauty of the earth. He loved flowers and animals; he loved birds; he loved,the sun, the moon, the stars and the trees. This Franciscan spiri-tual principal found moving expression not only in Francis' own Canticle of the Sun but in the many stories later collected in the Fioretti and other writings. Franco Ziferelli's movie, '.'Brother Sun and Sister Moon," so beautifully portrayed Francis' love of the earth. This wasan earth he could' fall on and feel a oneness with. This enthrallment so seized Francis that he could spontaneously deliver a sermon to some birds--who also needed to be preached to. , His life carried a simplicity and a constant love of nature.~But that love of nature serves not merely to :appreciate beauty, but even more it is a sign. of how much God cares for~us. That loving closeness to creation led Francis to live and practice an attitude .of life that is supremely joyful! Joy is the spiritual .style of Francis' life. This joy .created .love even for the poorest of God's creatures: Novelists have humorously mused that if Francis were the gatekeeper of ,heaven, mice, mosquitoes and even roaches would be welcomed in: He simply loved everything that~existed! That warmth and gentleness will,always remain among the'most appealing aspects of Francis" spiritual vision. He was to all who met him indeed a happy Christian. There is a charming episode [old about him and a few of his comPanions journeying to Rome to get the pope's approval for their new "order." The 61~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 pope at that time was Innocent III, a man who, it was rumored, sucked on lemons, such was his disposition and manner of dealing with everything in life. Francis appears before this dour and powerful pope to get approval for. his order. At this time the pope was close to imposing a moratorium on new religious oi'ders; they were multiplying like mad throughout Europe. Francis entered the presence of Innocent III; he began to vividly explain his vision for the "Poor men of Assisi" and what this life meant for the Church of Christ. And the story goes, as he poured out his spiritual ideal, he became so animated that he began to dance right in front of the pope, all the time telling what it means to be happy and a joyful Christian. Francis was an individual who possessed a love for Christ that simply overflowed in the way he lived his Christianity. Why were so many people drawn to Francis in his day? Probably as much because of his joy, his humor and his enthusiasm as much as any-thing else. If we sum up his spiritual ideals,, the poverty, the trust in God's providence, the closeness with the beauty and goodness of creation, and a joyful, warm loving attitude of life, Francis indeed shows us the true meaning of Jesus Christ and his Gospel. But one final step must be taken. If we really believe this in our hearts, then we have to go out and share it with others. This Gospel must be proclaimed to all. And so Francis set out " to preach this vision of the Christian Gospel, this understanding of what Christian holiness is all about. He heard the Gospel say clearly that all are called to spread the kingdom of God. Francis possessed no special training. He never went to a seminary, 'never took any religion courses, was never ordained a priest. He was an ordinary, average Christian who one day heard in church the word of the Gospel and let it penetrate into his heart. From there he set out to preach this meaning of the faith of Jesus Christ to all he met. ~ That in summary fashion describes the popular image of Francis and his religious vision. It was a vision that in his own time captivated all manner of people, poor and rich, those who simply heard and rejoiced, those who were willing to donate vast sums of land, money, artistic wealth, to the Franciscan movement. His image captivated people ofhis time, as it has ever since. It was indeed a remarkable vision of what Christian holiness is and it remains so for us today. Francis' ideal always returns to that radicalness of searching our lives" and our hearts. It asks us, prods us: are we willing to cast off even our most precious possessions and supports to be able to live a real trust in God's providence? The key remains, poverty. The key is that we are willing to strip ourselves of the human strengths we usually rely on. We must arrive at a trust in God where we can accept what life gives us, and accept it joyfully. To Francis the real signs of the Christian 7he Holiness of Saint Francis who has attained that trust are joy, happiness, warmth and gentleness. Overall there is nothing terribly new in this teaching of Francis. It had all been said before many times. Why was it so popular? Why does it remain so popular? Because in the way that Francis lived he held togeth.er in one personal vision aspects that people deemed incompatible. He was a man who lived poorly, and yet was deeply happy. He was a man who loved Christ, .and yet he'also loved all that was created in this world. He trusted solely in God, and yet he could live freely. He held together each of those different aspects that the common opinion said could not be held together. You can do one or the other, you can either love God or love the things of this creation. You can be poor, but you can't be happy at the same time: You can trust solely in God, but it will constrict you. The marvel of Francis' .life was that he merged all these "contradictions" in one lifestyle. That was his religious vision and incredible contribution to medieval Christian spir-ituality. His was not so much a new teaching as a new practice. His practice proved that we really can live the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Lived Suffering Beyond Francis' ideal view of Christian life lies another, and less well known, dimension of his holiness. This is the St. Francis of lived history, the one fewer people know about. This Francis was completely caught up in the history of his time and was entangled in multiple societal, conflicts and family disputes. This second Francis knew anger, humiliation and failure; he even bordered on despair several times in his life. He failed in many ways to see his spiritual ideals put completely into practice. As with so many religious individuals, he was forced to compromise. In this Francis we view a considerably different image of Christian holiness. It teaches us that holiness cannot always be a crystal clear ideal that one lives out perfectly all the time; rather, true Christian holiness requires an individual to make his or her way as best he or she can in the midst of many contradictory forces. The path of holiness counts halfway successes, some failures, and compromise much of the time. This Francis of lived suffering, just as much as the Francis of the pure ideal of following Christ, has a great deal to teach us about Christian sanctity. He tells us that,true holiness must be won by flesh and blood individuals who live in the Church of their time, a Church that is often confused and unsure, Let us now turn to consider the lived holiness of Francis that emerged through the particular conflicts of his life. An initial and continuing controversy swirled around his religious ideal, especially his conviction of the need for absolute poverty in following Christ. That belief flew in the face of the religious and societal convictions 686/ Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 of his time and caused much, family conflict as well as Church dispute~ ,Francis came from a family that was quite successful as. members of the rising merchant class. His father was a member of the upwardly mobile, a forerunner of our modern businessman. Possessions, material and social, meant a great deal to such a family. Pietro Bernadone, Francis' father, worked very hard to give much to his family and to his son. But Francis flatly rejected all that hard,earned wealth. He even gave away ("wasted") his father's money. He gave away his father's merchandise, even to the point that it became necessary to lock him out of t.he store. Many heated argu-ments erupted between Francis and his father. Francis would then leave to go off and pray in a cave. His father became convinced that he had a mentally deficient son. When arguing failed, his father tried locking him in his room, even beating him, but Francis usually wound up going back to the hills and to the caves There can be no doubt that as beautiful as Francis' spiritual ideal became, it caused his family great pain, It is too easy to idealistically side with Francis against his father. There is no evidence that his father was an unjust or cruel man. He lived, supported actively and participated in the life of the Church as he was asked to do by 'church leaders. He would go to the bishop of Assisi personally and ask him to try and persuade Francis to give up this stupidity. What then does Francis do? He strips himself naked right in the middle of the town square and effec-tively disowns his father. He says, "I want absolutely nothing of yours." That scene has often found its illustrators in religious history, the,bishop putting his cloak around Francis to shield his nakedness.Yet think for a moment what Francis' action really said to the family that loved and raised him. Francis shows ,us that the living of a religious ideal can cause great pain among family members. It did in his time and still does in our own day. Francis' ideal ctiallenged more than his family; it. flew in the face of Church law at that time. The total renunciation of possessi0ns,~both indi-vidual and communal, was commonly thought to be "unnatural." Religious orders needed to own communal property, even while the individual members renounced any private possessions. It was natural for religious men and women to possess a basic standard of living and also to be able to do the works of the Church like teaching, helping the poor or missionary endeavors. Francis said "no" to this common assumption. The Gospel of Jesus Christ says, "if you will be perfect, sell all you have, give it to the poor and come follow me." This religious context involved the important fact that in the hundred years before Francis many other movements in the Church had sought to live a type of radical poverty! The Humiliati in Milan, the Albigensians in southern France, The Waldensians in France and Switzerland were just some of the religious groups who aspired to own The Holiness of Saint Francis / 6117 absolutely nothing. ~Practically every one of these movements eventually found themselves opposed to the Church, critical of Church wealth and power, and finally excluded from the body of Christianity. To even breathe the thought of radical poverty in Francis' day raised instant alarm in the leaders of Church and society. Indeed more than a few popes, bishops and cardinals looked suspiciously at this strange individual from Assisi who was beginning to gather some followers. Every.time such an ideal had been started before, it ended up to no good, Francis trod a dangerous and hostile path. To follow his Christian ideal h6 opposed tradition and the common opinion of Church leaders, Several times he came close to having his movement outlawed by Church authorities: In this conflict and suffering Francis exposes another aspect of Christianity sanctity: to pursue the holi-ness of the Gospel is not always a free and easy path even within the Church. Other equally sincere Christians will say this is a bad route to follow. The lived suffering of holiness requires an 'inner courage

Issue 10.5 of the Review for Religious, 1951. ; A.M.D.G. . Renew for Religious SEPTEMBER 15, 1951. Christian Heroes . J. Pu~z Joy in Heaven . Richard L. Rooney ¯ PassionisHc SpirH'uallty . Fidells Rice Modesty ¯ ¯ ~ . ,~ .~ . C- A. Herbs÷ Grace o~ Our Vocation . P. De Leffer Communion for O~hers . . Clerence McAuliffe A Vocational Newspaper Questions and Answers Book Reviews ,VOLUME X i' =, NUMBER 5' RI:::VI W FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME X SEPTEMBER, 1951 NUMBER GONTENTS CHRISTIAN HEROES-~3. Putzo S.J . 225 Heroism of Everyday Life . 225 The New Saints ¯ " . ZZ9 The New Beati . 235 JOY IN HEAVEN--Richard L. Rooney, S.3 .2.3.9 PASSIONISTIC SPIRITUALITY--Fidelis Rice, C.P .2.4.1 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 246 MODESTY--C. A. Herbst, S.J . 247 ETUDE SUR LA PAUVRETE. RELIGIEUSE .2.5.2. THE GRACE OF OUR VOCATION---P. De Letter, S.J .2.5.3 COMMUNICATIONS--A VOCATIONAL NEWSPAPER . 260 OFFERING COMMUNION' FOR OTHERS-~Clarence McAuliffe, S.J. 261 MEDICO-MORAL PROBLEMS . 265 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 20. Alienation of Property for $100,000 . 266 21. Alienation of Sacred Objects: Relics, Images, Vessels . . . . 266 22. Extreme Unction before Major Operation .268 23. Letters of Golden Jubilarians . 268 24. Novice Master at Coun~i~ Meeting . ¯ " . 268 25. Communion to Ambulatory Sick . 269 26. Hail Mary's on Feast of Annunciation . 270 I'~EW MEDITATION BOOKS . 270 BOOK REVIEWSw Pastor's History of the Popes; The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus; The Gifts of the Holy Ghost . 273 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 276 BOOK NOTICES . 278 TEN YEAR INDEX OF REVIEW--MAYBE . 280 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September. 1951. Vol. X, No. 5. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation, Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka. Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Jerome Breunig, S~ J. Copyright, 1951, by Adam C. Ellis, S,J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price]! 3 dollars a year: 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Befoie writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Christ:ian bleroe It~UR DAYS call for heroic living. The greatness.and diffi: ~ culties of our time are su.cb that no disciple ofo "~hrist.is allowed to remain satisfied with mediocrity." This, saying of Plus XI has often been quoted. The Holy Year was" meant-to stir up Christendom to greater fervor, that it might be an:active, l'eaven for'the much-needed renovation of the world. The numerous beati-fications and canonizations of this last year put beforeus outstandi'ng Christian heroes whose example is meant to stimulate our mediocgity~ Heroism is the test applied by the Church to candidates for .beati-- fication--not a human, stoic heroism, but a heroism inspired by personal love, by charity, and sustained by the Holy Ghost dwellin~ in the soul. At the beginning the typical saint was the ma'rtyr, th.e Christian who had been a witness to Christ by. dying for Him. ,But soon it was realized that, in the absence of persecution.s, there can be an "unbloody martyrdom" by heroic fidelity in liv'ing for Christ, Thus, by the side of martyrs, the names o,~f. outstanding "confes~ors~j came to be added in the martyrology. Heroism always remained the test of genuine sanctity, and the Congregation of Rites, .When studying the cause of'a confessor, has chiefly to discuss the hiroism his virtue. Is there evidence that he possessed in a herbic degree.the theolggical virtues of faith, hope, charity and the cardinal.~ri~tues :of prudence, justice, temperance, fortitude, with the virtues connected with them'? , .' ~ :: " , But what is required for heroic virtue? It is not easy tO dete~ mine thi's notion. Benedict XIV, in his treatise on'the beatification of the servants of God, has given all the elements, but he has:not made the synthesis, and one may say that the notion remained some:~ what indeterminate. This gave rise, 'within the ,Congregatigrl of Rites, to different conceptions of heroic, virtue. This. difference' de-layed the cause of the servant of God, A. Gianelli. The same reason may explain why until this year no child or ado.lescent ever passed the test, for the classical conception insisted 'on "extraordinary,~.' manifestatidns of heroism. There was room for progress 'tow~i'r'ds greater precision and, accor~ding to a recent articl'e by.~a consultor:of 22'5 J. PU~Z Reoieto for Religious the Congregation of Rites, the well-known Carmelite, Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, a distinct progress has been made during recent years. (Cf. Etudes Carmelitaines, 1949, pp. 175-88.~ This progress has not only a juridical importance for the process of beatification; it interest~ ascetical theology as well, since all Chris-tians are called to sanctity, and the type of holiness required by the Church for canonization determines the ideal of Christian perfection after which all must strive. T.he true Christian is the saint, and the saints are the standard by which we must guide and judge ourselves. Our imitation of.them must be based on a precise notion of what sanctity-~heroic virtue--consists in. Aqcording to Father Gabriel, the work of elaboration and deter-mination took place chiefly between 1916 and 1922, under the direct inspiration of Benedict XV. It can be followed in the decrees of the Congregation of Rites published on the occasion of the declara-tion of heroic virtue especially in the decrees concerning A. M. Gianelli (AAS, 1920, pp. 170-4)'and 3. N. Neumann (AAS, 1922, pp. 23-6). As a result, we are told, the Church is now in possession of a concept of heroic virtue more synthetic, less complicated and less abstract, more definite and easier to apply. This notion was clearly expressed in 1916 by Benedict XV, when he declared that "sanctity consists merely in conformity with the divine will, expressed in the constant and exact fulfillment of the duties of one's state." Sanctity, as the decree of April 11, 1920, explains, cannot be judged by an abstract standard. The saints cannot be reduced to one type. Heroism will vary according to each one's temperament, state of life, and other circumstances. It will not always show itself by extraordinary or stupendous deeds. For, as the decree' states, "these require a suitable occasion. But such occasions are rare and do not depend on the will of man; persecutions, for instance, plagues, or earthquakes cannot be produced at will. Hence, if holi-ness consisted in such deeds, it would follow that holiness itself does not depend on the will of man--which is absurd." The heroism to which all Christians can aspire is the exact and constant fulfillment of their concrete daily duties. "Comrounia sed non communiter,'" according to the motto of St. John Berchmans, doing common things but uncommonly well. What makes the saint is not the nature of his actions, whether extraordinary or common, important or insig-nificant; what counts is the intensity of his love that rules and in-spires all his actions. 226 September, 195 ! (]HRISTIAN HEROES Such fidelity implies real heroism, for nothing is more difficult to human nature than constancy. To be moved in everything by the will of God only, without being influenced by the ever-active sensi-bility, the sudden movements of the passions, the sense of fatigue, the ups and downs of one's n~oods.---such constancy supposes that the soul is under the perfect domination of the Holy Ghost and totally oriented towards its last end. Father Gabriel wrote in the same article, "If it were not so, if it were not perfectly purified, if other motives distinct from the love of God were still active (they can all be reduced to self-love, the root of all inordinate love of creatures), .then it would inevitably act more than once under the impulse of these motives and thus deviate from the pure fulfillment of the divine~ will." In such a soul "we admire a human nature tbat has reached a singular harmony and perfection--its spiritual forces keeping the sensible fac~lties in docile submission or completely conquering their resistance, so as to realize to perfection the task prescribed to it by the Lord: the perfect fulfillment of His holy will by a total, constant, ~nd generous fidelity to the daily duty." "Such sublime conduct, kept up over a long period, and without failure, is completely above the powers of human .nature left to itself . It alone suffices for evangelical heroism, for it makes man perfect in the way the heavenly ~Father is perfect." (Quoted by Benedict XIV in his treatise on beatification, III, c. 21, n. 10.) ! "'The heroism of the ordinary life has officially received a place by the side of the classical extraordinary heroism," wrote D. Pietro Brocardo. (Cf. Satesianum, 1950, p. 197.) Benedict XV's suc-cessor, the Pope who stressed the universal call of Christians to sanc-i. ,t~ty, often expounded this conception. Sanctity, according to Plus ~KI, is not something "exceptional," it is but the Christian life lived fully and intensely according to each one's vocation. Sanctity is but ~he fullest and richest expression of Christian life. It is the divine perfection proposed to all, from the humblest believer to the gigantic ~gures of hagiography. If not all are called to the same height of ~anctity, yet all are called to sanctity. His most famous pronounce-ment on this topic is his allocution published in Osservatore Romano, ~Jan. 6, 1928, on "the terrible everyday duty," given after the reading bf the decree of the heroic virtue of Brother Benildus, a humble leacher who had spent his whole life in elementary schoo.ls: "A humble servant of God, whose whole life was all modesty hnd silence, all very commonplace and very 'everyday.' But in such 227 Reoiew for Religious an. everyday- life how much there is that is not common! This everyday, always the same, with the same occupations, the same ~;eakness~s, the same miseries, has rightly been called 'the terrible ev'e'ryda3f:' How much strength is required to stand up to this ter-rible, this crushing, this monotonous, this asphyxiating everyday! An. un'c6mmon irirtue is very necessary to perform--not with an all too'° frequent negligence and superficiality but with attention and inner fe'rvbr of spirit--that series of common actions which fill our e'4ceryday life'. 0' "Holy Church is never a more equitable judge and a wi~er teacher of bdlinesk than when she honors these humble lights, so often unnoticed even by those who had the good fortun~ tosee them shine finder their i'er~, eyes. Extraordinary things, great events, magnifi-cei~ t enterprises arouse the noblest instincts: in the commonplace, on the:contrary, that is, in the flat and obscure everyday task, there is nothing exciting or fascin.ating. Yet this is the stuff the life of most men' is made of. How often do extraordinary circumstances present therfiselves in a lifetime? They are very rare, and woe to us if sanc-tity were reserved to extraordinary circumstances! What would the greater part of'~nankind do? For it is certain that all without dis-tinction are called to sanctity." " B'roth~r B~nil~tus was beatified twenty years later, on April 4, 1948. On that occasion Plus XII, too, spoke of the heroism of the ordinary life. Benildus was neither a founder, nor a mystic, nor a miracle-worker; h~.was a,~simple schoolmaster. His only claim to the honors' of the YChurch was his fidelity to duty--to his rules and the daily grind of the school. But such constant fidelity to the details of his di~ty, his radiant charity, his serenity in difficulties could only flow. frorrl a'ddep[and vigorous interior life and habitual union with Goal. ' :. ¯ During th~ Holy Year a variety of saints have been' beatified or e~rmn~zed." Maria Goretti w~s only eleven when she died, but she Was canonized as a martyr. Yet, even this extraordinary form of htroisrd;, the Pope pointed out, presupposes the "ordinary" heroism of the'daily life. Among the new beati is the first adolescent ever t'gised to the altars, Dominic Savio. So far, the youngest confessor ~fioni~ed is S~."Stanislaus; but he was a young man of eighteen ~nd, besides bein~ a religious, his life was out of the ordina.ry, Dominic died before he was fifteen, and his life was the very ordinary s~hool-b'oy life. The criterion of heroic virtue exposed by Father Gabriel 228 September, 1951 CHRISTIAN HEROES ,seems to havi~ made it possible for children and adolescerits to pass the test required for tl~e supreme honors of the Church. The eight saints canonized during the Holy Year of 1950 brought "the total number canonized by Plus XII tO twenty-two. Saints Emily de Rodat and Maria Goretti were also beatified by the present Holy Father. Among the canonized we find seven confessors and one martyr; one bishop, one priest-founder of a religious insti-tute, three foundresses of religious congregations, and three who attained sanctity "in the world": a middle-aged woman, a young woman, and a girl. Four are Italian, two French, one Spanish, and one from Latin America. Five belong to the nineteenth century, while the fifteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries each claim one. St. Jeanne de Valois (1464-1504) Jeanne de Valois, daughter, sister, and wife of kings, seemed to be so high-placed only to be the more cruelly humiliated and cast away. Her birth was a bitter disappointment for King Louis XI who already had a daughter and wanted a son who could succeed him. Misshapen by nature, she was sent away from the court and brought up by strangers. When still a child, she was bound by a political marriage to the young Duke of Orleans who detested her and who, when twenty years later he l~ecame King Louis XII, had his marriage annulled, makin,g of the rejected queen an object of public ridicule. But the greater her disgrace in the eyes of the world, the more clearly stands out her moral nobility and spiritual greatness. The "royal Cinderella," as she has been called, showed no bitterness, no morbid self-pity; she accepted everything with sincere humility, deep love for God and for men (including her husband for whom she never ceased praying and who became one of the best-loved kings of France), and whole-hearted application to the work God had given her. The king, on sending her away, made over to her the duchy of Berry, and during the six remaining years of her life she resided at Bourges, her capital, administering the duchy with such success that she earned from her pebple the title of "the Good Duchess."A'mid 229 J. PUTZ Review [or Religious the splendor of her court she secretly practiced" the most rigorous penances. In 1500 she realized a long-cherished project, the founda-tion of an order'of the Blessed Virgin, the Annqnciade. Its members were to take as their means of sanctification the imitation, the repro-duction of M~ry, by practicing, her "Ten Virtues" as found in the Gospel. She herself, though continuing to rule the duchy, made her religious profession and wore the habit under her worldly d~ess. She completed her work by founding a Third Order, the "Order of Peace,': whpse members, living in the world, were to work for peace and reconciliation. The Order of the Annonciade flourished for centuries, but was almost destroyed by the French Revolution. At ' present it has a half dozen bouses in Belgium, France, and England. When Joan died in her fortieth year she was immediately venerated as a saint. Her cult grew, miracles multiplied, but she was not formally beatified until 1742. Pius XII solemnlY proclaimed her a saint on May 28. In his homily the Holy Father stressed the saint's work for the promotion of peace; in heaven, he said, she continues to pray for the extinction of hate and for fraternal concord, so that the nations may form one great family, striving with united for~es to ensure prosperity and peace for all. On the following day, in an address to the numer-ous French pilgrims, he described the spirituM characteristics of the saint--spirit of faith, devotion to the Mother of Jesus ("an infallible test of the true. Christian"), union with Jesus in suffering--and gave her as an example tO French Catholics, particularly to the women of France "on'whom in the present crisis devolves a mission 9f supreme importance." SI. Mary Ann of Jesus (1618-1645) Born in Quito, Ecuador, of Spanish parents, this Saint of Latin America--"the Lily of Quito"--showed a precocious attraction for the things of the spirit. She took the three vows at ten and lived the live of a solitary in a room of her sister's wealthy home,.leaving it only to go to church and to visit the poor and sick. She practiced heroic austerities and was favored with sublime prayer. In 16~}5, when Quito was visited by earthquakes and a deadly plague, she publicly offered herself as a victim for the sins of the people. The skourge abated, but she was seized with a malady-which put an end to her short but intense life. She was only twenty-six. 230 September, 1~51 CHRISTIAN HEROES She was beatified by Plus IX in 1853. In 1946 "the Parliament of Ecuador declared her a "national heroine." Her canonizatiorl, the last of the Holy Year, took place on July 9.In his homily the Holy Father stressed three aspects, of her life: (1) immaculate purity; (2) ardent charity, which she practiced towards every misery, spir-itual and material: when she was powerless to help, she tried to obtain help from God by prayer, expiation, the offering of her life; (3) extraordinary austerity, inspired by the desire to expiate the sins of men. She offered herself as a~victim for the salvation of others. This question of mortification needs special stres.sing in the mod-ern world, the Pope said. "Not all, especially nowadays, understand this kind of penance; not all esteem it as they should. Many of our contemporaries despise it or neglect it. Yet we should know that for our fallen nature penance is absolutely necessa.ry. Unless y.ou do pena.nce you will all perish. Indeed, nothing heli3s more efficaciously to conquer our passions and to subject our natural instincts to the control of reason. And when we have won a victory over ourselves it is sweet to exp'erience a divine joy which surpasses' al'l earthly pleasures." In his allocution to pilgrims the following day, the Pope re-marked that we "who. live in the full light of the deyotion of the Sacred Heart may well admire the holy intuitions of this innocent victim who, at the beginning of .the seventeenth century, was led to make of reparation the centre of her spirituality." St. Vincent Strambi (1745-1824) St. Vincent Strambi was one of the great bishops and upholders of the Church's independence in the face of totalitfirian rulers. After being ordained a priest in 1767 he was received into the Passionist Congregation by St. Paul of the Cross himself. He was a great preacher of missions and director of souls (among his penitents was the Blessed Anna Maria Taigi) and filled high offices of authority in his order. In 1801 he was, much against his will, appointed bishop of Macerata and Tolentino by Plus VII. He administered his dio-cese with the zeal of another Charles Borromeo. Preoccupied chiefly with the formation of the clergy and the diffusion of religious in-struction, he brought about a religious renewal among priests and laity. When he refused to take the oath of. allegiance to the ustirping regime established by Napoleon he was expelled from his diocese in 231 J. PUTZ Review for Religious 1808 until the fall of the Emperor in 1813. In 1823 he resigned his see and died soon after in Rome, where Pope Leo XII had made him his confidential adviser." In the midst of his intense activity and the vicissitudes "of his life he never relaxed anything in the austerity of his private life. He was beatified, in 1925 and canonized on June 11, 1950. In his homily the Holy Father made an application to the countries where the Church is being oppress, ed by the secular power: "The Church can be attacked, she cannot be conquered . If under the present difficulties--which in some countries seem graver than those referred to above--some souls are disconcerted, wavering, or anxious, they should remember the promises of Jesu~ Christ and try to imitate the invincible fortitude of this saint as well as. his other virtues." St. Anthony Claret (1807-1870) St. Anthony Claret was another great priestly figure of the nine-teenth century. Born at Salient in the north of Spain, he practiced for a tired his father's trade of cloth-weaving, but eventually was able to follow his heart's desire and join the seminary of Vicb. After his ordination in 1835 and a few years of pa.rish work, he conse-crate'd himself with extraordiriary success to ~he preaching of missions and retreats throughout Catalonia. His zeal inspired other priests, and in 1849 he founded the Congregation of MissioriarySons of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, commonly kno.wn.as the Claretians. The same year he was sent to Cuba as Archbishop of Santiago, to b~ing about there a much-needed reform: In this post of exceptional diffi-culty he achieved considerable results, though several attempts were made on his life. After seven years he was recalled to Spain to become the confessor of Queen Isabella II. In the revolution of 1868 he was banished from his country. He attended the Vatican Council where he spoke eloquently for the definition of papal infalli-bility. Soon after, .on Oct. 24, 1870, he died in France. Besides preaching some 10,000 sermons, h~ was an ardent apostle of the press. He wrote 120 books and pamphlets (144 volumes), founded religious libraries, and promoted the diffusion of good literature. He was beatified in 1934 and canonized on May 7, 1950. The work of this powerful apostle is carried on by the Cl~iretians who in 1949 celebrated their first centenary. They count at present Over 4,000 members in 24I establishments all over "the world. Their chief work is education, missions and retreats, and the aposfolate of 232 September, 1951 CHRISTIAN HEROES the press. In Rome they ~un the Poliglotta Press and edit the Corn-mentarium pro religiosis et missionariis. St. Emily de Radar (1787-1852) .' At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the French Revolu-tion and the long wars that followed it bad accumulated in France and Europe immense miseries, spiritual and material. Then Provi-dence raised up numerous saints who, impressed by the needs of their time, devoted themselves to remedy them. Rarely in the history of the Church do we find so many religious institutes springing up every-where, dedicated to the prac.tice of various v~orks of corporal and spiritual mercy. In this providential reconstruction women had a prominent share, and this explains why among the saints beatified or canonized by Pius XII there ale so many religious foundresses of this period. Emily de Radar was beatified by Plus XII in 1940 and canon-ized by the same on April 23, 1950. Born of an aristocratic family, she was brought up by pious parents but passed through a period of worldly frivolity and religious indifference. Converted during the Holy Year of 1804, she decided to consecrate'her life to the service of God. After trying several religious institutes, her visits to the poor made .her realize the great need for Catholic schools: She immedi-ately set to work: she had found her vocation. With three other young women she opened a school, and thus the Congregation of the Holy Family was started. Today it has over 200 houses in Europe and South America--schools, orphanages, hospitals. The H01y Father, in his homily, stressed the precious services rendered by reli-gious institutes of women: "When we consider the admirable enterprises of this saint, when we remember what her congregation and the other religious institutes --almost innumerable--have accomplished, we cannot but proclaim that the Church and civil society as well owe very much to all these religious women. If we did not have them, if God by His heavenly inspiration did not continually and in every century raise them up, if He did not sustain them by His help, who could fill their place? Let all, then, learn to praise them as they deserve, to help them as they can . And may the religious zealously and strenuously strive to live up to their lofty vocation." Saints Bartolomea Capltanio and Catherine Gerosa (1807-1833) (1784-1847) , Bartolomea Capitanio and Catherine Gerosa founded together 233 the Italian Sisters of Charity, after the model of St. Vincent de Paul's Sisters of Charity. Bartolomea began her apostolate at fourteen, teaching, little children. Soon her simple and strong personality drew to her, as to their mother, the young, the poor and afflicted of her little town of Lovere. Seeing the need to organize the ever-increaging work she joined forces with another saintly worker of the same town, Catherine, who was twenty years her senior and had already opened a hospital for the sick poor. Bartolomea died a few years later, at the early age of twenty-six. Her spiritual notes and instructions, as well as a considerable number of her letters, have been published. She left the young institute to the care of Catherine (who had ~dopted the name of Vincenza), an extremely bumble woman, yet an efficierit worker and able organizer. During the fourteen years she had still to live, the congregation continued to expand 'rapidly Today it counts nearly 9,000 religious in some 500 houses. Barto-lomea' was beatified in 1926; Vincenza in 1933T.hey w~re canon-ized together on May 18, 1950. St. Maria Gorettl (1890-1902) No canonization war received with greater enthusiasm than that of the humble village girl who died for the preservation of her purity The ~tory of her martyrdom is. known to all our readers. Her popu-larity and the speed of her promotion to the highest honors of the Church ha~e been equalled or surpassed in modern times only by the Little Flower of Lisieux. Her cause was introduced in 1938 and concluded in 1945. The solemn beatification took place on April 27, 1947, and she was canonized three years later, on June.-24, 1950, forty-eight years after her death. " (Teresa of Lisieux died on Sept. 30, 1897, was beatified on April 29, 1923, and canonized on May 17, 1925. Aloysius Gonzaga was beatified fourteen years after his death, bu~ another' centu.ry passed before be was canonized.) In spite of her youth, Maria was capable of heroism, and this heroism showed itself also in the pardon accorded to her miarderer on her' deathbed and in. the superhum~t'n patience during the extremely painful operation by which,the doctors tried to save her, withou~ putting her to .sleep,. D.ur!ng those tWO. long., hours Mary never complained but kept invoking the help of the" BlEssed Virgin. For .sush :heroism, the Holy F,a.ther point.e~d 6ut.in his allocution, the 23~, September, 195 I. CHRISTIAN HEROES courageous child had prepared herself by the daiIy practice of the virtues of her state: "It is true that it is above all purity that sho~e in Maria Goretti's martyrdom, but with it. and in it the other Christian virtues tri-umphed as well. In that purity there was the most evident and sig-nificant affirmation of the perfect control of the soul over matter. In that supreme heroism, which cannot be improoised, there was the tender, obedient," and active love for the parents, self-sacrifice in the hard work~of every day, poverty accepted in an evangelical spirit and sustained by trust in Providence, religion embraced tenaciously, deepened ever more, ~ssimilated as a treasure of life and nourished by the flame of prayer; the fervent desire of ~lesus in the Eucharist, and finally--the crown of charity--the heroic pardgn accorded to the murderer. All this forms a rustic garland, so dear to God, of country flowers which adorned the white veil of her First Com-munion and, shortly after, her martyrdom." The beatifications of the Holy Year, like the canonizations were eight in number. The total of those beatified by Pope Plus XII at the end of 19~0 is now'fifty-two; this includes the twenty-nine Chinese martyrs. Among those beatified during the Holy Year we find one priest, one boy, and six foundresses of religious institutes: two Spanish, two Italian, and two French. All except one belong to the nineteenth century. Blessed Vincen~ Pallo~f~ (1795-f850). Vincent Pallotti was the apostle of Rome at a difficult period of histo~-y.-After his ordination and a double doctorate at the Sapienza, he started his apostolate among students and it soon became clear that Rome possessed a holy priest. He was made confessor of Propaganda College, the English College, the Roman Seminary. On all of them his influence was deep. But his preferences were for the poor and the workers; he opened professional and agricultural schools and pro-moted t?ade unions. His zeal embraced the whole world and every" need, spiritual and material. For this "universal" object he founded the Society of the Catholic Apostolate (a society :of" priests and Brothers living in common without public vows, commonly known ,235 J. PUTZ Reoieu~ for Religious as the Pallottines) and the Sisters of the Catholic Apostolate. He took a special interest in the conversion of England and sent to that country some of his best men. He realized, more than a century ago, the immense possibilities and the necessity of the lay apostolate, and Pius XI called him a "pioneer and precursor of Catholic Action." This bold and far-sighted planner was a man of incredible humility, considering himself an obstacle to the progress of the Church and accepting without a word the most cruel humiliations. He always kept his predilection f.0r the poor, giving them even his own clothes. He died of a pleurisy contracted as a consequence of giving his mantle to a destitute man. Today 3,550 Pallottines and 2,900 Sisters of the Catholic Apos-tolate continue the saint's w.ork in many countries. Vincent's beati-fication was the first of the Holy Year; it took place on Jan. 22, exactly 100 years after hi~ death. A few days later the Pope pointed out "this great sacerdotal figure" as an example to parish priests and preachers. His sermons, he said, were always directed to the ur~uro nec.essarium; his confessional was eagerly sought after and surrounded with extraordinary effects of grace, "May his spirit be renewed in every one of you and infuse into your apostolate that .irresistible glow of love which the doubting, uncertain, and suffering men of today need so much." Blessed Marla-Soledad Torres y Acosta (1826-1887) Maria started her apostolate of charity in a squalid quarter of Madrid. With her h'elp the parish priest opened a hospital for. the ¯ poor. Eventually she had to take charge of the whole work, which she stabilized and perpetuated by founding a religious congregation, the Servants of Mary. Her institute during her lifetime spread from Spain to South America. At present it counts some 1,600 members. She was beatified on Feb. 5, 1930. Blessed Vincenta-Maria Lopez y Vicuna (1847-1890) Vincenta was born of an aristocratic Spanish family. Sent to Madrid for her higher education, she became interested there in the charitable Work of her aunt who, shocked by the difficulties and dangers of the lives of domestic servants, had opened a home for them. Vincenta refused a brilliant match arranged by her father and 236 Se'ptembe¢, 19:51 CHRISTIAN HEROES took the vow of chastity. After her father's death she used her con-siderable fortune.to develop her work of social assistance. To further extend it she founded the Daughters of Mary Immaculate for the protection of young women. At'present they number, nearly 2,000 members in various countries. Their hostels for domestic servants, working-girls or students provide for the material and spiritual wel-fare of well over 30,000 young women. She was beatified on Feb. 19, 1950. Blessed Paola-Elizabeth Cerloli. (1816-1865) Like Vinc~nta she was bor~ of a noble family in Northern Italy. But at nineteen, not feeling called to the religious life, she followed the wish of her parents and married an old widower,Count Buzecchi, forty years her senior. After the death of her husband and three children she was then tl~irty-eight--she consecrated her time and income tO assisting the poor peasants and farmhands of the sur-rounding country. In 1857 she started a religious community, the Sisters of the Holy Family of Bergamo, for the care of orphans and morally abandoned children. In 1950 this institute counted some 300 members. The saint was also instrumental in founding a simi-lar institute for men, the Priests of' the Holy Family. The brief of canonization compares her with St. Joan de Chantal, an angel in four states of life, girl, wife, widow, and religious. She was beatified on March .19, 1950. Blessed Maria ~e Mattias (1805-1866) Maria was born in the diocese of Gaeta. When she was seven-teen, she attended a mission preached by the Blessed Gaspar del Bufalo, a friend of Blessed Vincent Pallotti and founder of the Mis-sionaries of the Most,Precious Blood. The holy preacher to whom she opened'her soul recognized her great gifts and entouraged her to take up the apostolate of Christian education. She began by gath-ering the little children in her parental home, and in 1834 she founded.a convent and a school. This was the beginning of the in-stitute of the "Adoratrici" of the Most Precious Blood, which today has 215 houses in Italy and 172 in other parts of the world, with some 2,000 members. She was beatified on Oct. 15, 1950. Blessed Anne-Marie Javouhey (1779-1851) The child of a farmer of Burgundy, she grew up amid the horrors 237 J., PUTZ Reaie~a [or Religious of the French Revolution, sometimes risking her life. in order to hide and assist priests. At nineteen she vowed perpetual Chastity and re-solved to dedicate her life to the education of children and the care of the sick. As other girls joined her in the work she c~nceived the plan of her new congregation, the Sisters of St. Joseph, called "of Cluny" from the place of the mother house. Soon she made founda-tions in mission countries, Africa, Pondicherry, French Guiana, and others. A woman of remarkable energy and intrepid enterprise' (King Louis Philippe said admiringly, "Madame Javouhey, that's a great man"), she frequently visited her missions, worked for the abo-lition of slavery and for the organization of public services in the colonies. From the start she realized the necessity of forming an indigenous clergy, and in order to accelerate the work she brought to France the first Negro candidates for the priesthood. Today the Sisters of St. Joseph are found in every part 'of the world, working in schools, hospitals, leper asylums, and other institutions. She was beatified on Oct. 15, 1950. Blessed Marguerite Bourgeo~ys (1620-1700) This blessed takes us back to the seventeenth century and to the great period of ~he Canadian missions. John de Brebeuf was mar-tyred in 1649. The Ursuline missionary-contemplative Marie de l'Incarnation died in Quebec in 1672. Margaret, who had first tried the contemplative life with the Carmelites and the Poor Clares in her native France, found bet vocation when .the Governor of Montreal came to France and tried to find a teacher for the children of the French garrison of Ville-Marie. She offered her services and in 1653 reached Montreal, where she .began bet apostolate by teaching the catechism and visiting the sick in their huts. In 1658, with some companions whom she bad brought out from France the previous year, she founded the congregation of Notre Dame of Montreal, which became an important educational factor for the whole of Canada and. since 1860, for the United States (at present 5,680 members). Margaret, "schoolmistress and itinerant mis~iorlary,;' opened mission schools ff;r Indian girls, many of whom became zealous Sisters in the institute. Thus, as the Pope remarked in his address to Canadian pilgrims, she realized among the "savage" Huron girls what St. Francis de Sales had dreamt of for France, a congrega-tion of non-cloistered "secular daughters." She was beatified on November 12, 1950. 238 September, 1951 JOY IN HEAVEN Blessed Dominic Savlo (1842-1857) Blessed Dominic, beatified on March 5, is the Benjamin of the confessors raised to the altars, since he was not quite fifteen when he died, The son of a modest but deeply Christian family, he very early showed a special earnestness and resoluteness in his piety. His First Communion, which he made at seven, .definitely set his will towards the goal of sanctity. In 1854 be was received by Don Bosco into the oratorio of Turin. Here~ under the saint's direction, and fos-tered by special graces, his spiritual life developed rapidly; but after two ~,ears a sickness obliged him to return to his home, where he died a few months later. His life was written by Don Bosco him-self. The decree declaring the heroism of his virtues was published in 1933. The beatification of this youthful masterpiece of divine grace--grace to which he corresponded heroically--will no doubt encourage new studies on the nature of sanctity and .especially of children's sancti~j'. [EDITORS' NOTE: The foregoing article is reprinted with permissi'on from The Clergy Montfily, a magazine published in India.] Joy in I-le ven Richard L. Roone}', S.J. "I,"HE Archangel in charge of the recording angels had called a | meeting of the guardians of religious. They were met in his skyey office high above the battlements of heaven. "Quite frankly, Angels, my aide~ are alarmed about this whole business," he was telling them. "The number of 'kicks,' complaints, criticisms and 'crabs' that l)hey have to record for religious is prepos-terous. They're even wondering if these human creatures will be satisfied and happy and content even here in heaven! They have found one hope, however. They feel sure that Purgatory will take all the 'kick' out of these kickers. You Gufirdian Angels do a grand job keeping your charges living up to their vows and observing the larger phases of religious life. It is time, nevertheless, that you went to work on this complaining business. It may relieve their human ,239 RICHARD L. ROO~EY feelings to 'crab' 6r to criticize. It doesn't add to God's glory or to their own merit however. So please, now, to business." The guardians, your own among them, filed out of' .the office and winged earthward. They came, each of them equipped with ques-tionnaires like the following. How would you answer them if your Angel Guardian put one before you during your next examen? 1. Do you find yourself complaining quite often? 2. What (or who!) is your p, et peeve? 3. Do you "kick" about the weather, the c~ll or the room you have, the house you are'in, the food you are. served, the work you have been assigned? 4. Do you ever "crab" about superiors or their directions? 5. Have you a few kindred souls with whom you get together to talk over the way things would be done if you were in charge of them ? 6. Do you firm., and vocalize about it. that the community is a pretty dull, or annoying lot? 7. Are you heaping up a pretty severe judgment for yourself by judging others . . . and that right severely? 81 There is a lot of sense in the little poem: Two men looked through prison bars; One saw mud, the other sad2 stars. Well, what do you see in the rest of us most of the time? 9. Do you accept the ordinary pin-pricks of daily religious life without grumbling? (Remember you are an especially selected member of a thorn-crowned Head.) i0. Can you put all of ydur words and remarks, both within the community and to externs, on the paten of tomorrow's Mass and know that they will be acceptable to God? After scanning the above you may find that it will be a good thing to take your particular examen off such undisturbingly im-practical generalities as humility or charity at large and particularize it at least on keeping a strict guard over your "kicking" tongue. If so, go to it! The best of success to you! Know that you will be a delight not only tO your. fellow religious but to the saints and angels and God Himself as well! 240" Passionist:ic Spiri!:uali!:y' Fidelis Rice, C.P. IN THE INFINITE 'reaches of eternity, within the secret council of the Godhead, the Wisdom and Love of God decreed that all of creation should reflect in.a unique way the ineffable perfections of God. Because God is absolutely infinite--that is, without any limits whatever--no creature could ever exhaust the divine imitabil-ity. Since the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, the Word, is the Exemplar of all that is, iherefore each creature is called upon in its own distinct way to teA1 us a little more. about the vastness, the goodness, and the perfection of the Word. "All things were madd by Him, and without Him was made nothing that was made." In the realm 6f souls our reflection of the divine holiness is to be accomplished by a participation in the Christ-Life. For each soul is predestined from all eternity to manifest in time the eternal Holiness which is God. There is a uniqueness, then, in the destiny of each soul. "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Who" has blessed us with spirftual blessings in heavenly places, in Christ. As He chose us in Him, before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and unspotted in His sight, in charity." (Ephesians, 1:3, 4.) Here the great Apostle reveals to us that our holiness is planned and designed in eternity, but according to the pattern of Christ. We are all called to mirror the holiness of the Word, but each soul in a different way. There is, then, a wondrous blending of unity and multiplicity in the pattern of holiness. Christ is one, the unique model of all holiness. But because of the limitations of our nature, because of our very creaturehood, each one of us will reflect the holiness of Our Lord in a so.mewhat different way, just as various artists in painting the same subject will use a varying contrast, a difference of light and shadow, greater or less use of chiaroscuro, until the completed can-vases, while basically the same, will manifest vast differences. ¯ So it is that in the various religious orders and societies, approved by the Church, there is a difference of pattern in the design for holi-ness, although, all are dedicated to the one supreme objective--the perfect imitation of Christ. The essential spirit of each religious order is imparted, first of 241 FIDELIS RICE Retaieto for Religious all, by the founder of the institute. Plus XI clearly states that the various founders of religious institute~ were guided in a special way by the Holy Spirit, who seeks alway,s to communicate to the Mysti-cal Body.of Christ the graces purchased by His precious death upon the cross. "For what else did these most illustrious men do in founding their institutes, but obey the inspirations of God? There-fore, let their followers show forth in themselves those characteristic traits which the Founders imprinted upon their several Institutes. Let them not fail in this." ("Unigenitus"; A.A.S., Vol. XVI, p. 133.) The key, therefore, to essential Passionistic spirituality is to ,be found in the life and work of Saint Paul of the Cross, and Passion-ists can be called "Passionists" only insofar as they adhere to his teachings and to his spirit. ° It was the unique genius of Paul of the Cross to combine in one Rule the best features of two apparently contradictory or opposing states of life. For he willed that his religious should cherish and foster the contemplative observance of choir monks, centering all in the liturgical, prayer of the Office, while at the same time fulfilling the sublime vocation of a missionary apostolate. In the mind of Paul of the Cross, missionary activity should flow spontaneously, from the life of prayer, thus verifying the teaching of St. Thomas Aquinas that the function of the apostolate is "tradere contemplata aliis"--"to'give to others the fruits of contemplation." Because the consuming passion of the life of St." Paul of the Cross was love for the sufferings of 2esus Christ, he wanted his religious to share, in a special way, in the redemptive sacrifice of Christ. That is, the Passionist vocation is in a special way a vocation to a life of reparation. The inmost spirit of the Passionist Rule is the spirit of solitude, penanee, poverty, and prayer. In unforgettable language Saint Paul of the Cross described the spirit of his institute in a cir-cular letter which he sent to his religious for the Feast of Pentecost, May 2nd., 1750. "Most beloved Sons, you are dead, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. Therefore, as dead to all that is not °God, r~main in the most perfect detachment from all created things, in true poverty of spirit, and in detachment from sensible consola-tions. Assisted by the most holy grace of ,lesus, direct all your zeal to this end--to be recollected in interior solitude; then you will become true adorers of the Sovereign Good in spirit and in truth . Never withdraw from the holy Wounds of Christ, but ever strive 242 September, 1951 PASSIONISTIC SPIRITUALITY more and more that your souls become hidden in and entirely pene-trated by them." (Letters: Vol. IV, p. 226.) Saint Paul of the Cross was one of the most privileged of mys-tical souls with which God has endowed the Church, but his very mysticism bore the unique character of his vocation. For although he received the grace of the "transforming union" or "mystical mar-riage"-- the highest grace of mystical prayer--at a very early age, yet for over fifty years thereafter he continued in the profound suf-ferings of the Dark Night of the Soul, a fact which Father Garrigou7 Lagrange, O.P., calls almost unique in the lives of the saints. Because Paul of the Cross was a master of prayer, it is not to be wondered at that he should insist upon a spirit of constant prayer. for his followers. In his Rule .he states in the very first chapter that "Prayer is one of the chief objects of our Congregation." The Passionist Rule, as it is observed in our monasteries in the United States today, prescribes, beside the Divine Office, two hours of mental prayer each day--an hour in the morning, and an hour in the eve-ning. Including the time that is devoted to the Divine Office; the Passionist, in the daily routine of his monastic day, spends close' to five hours in prgyer. One of the features of Passionistic prayer is the observance of the night office, for Passionists rise ea, ch morning at two o'clock to chant Matins and Lauds before the Blessed Sacrament. This observ-ance lasts one hour, and the religious retire again at three, to rise once more at dawn for Prime and Tierce. This nocturnal observance is one of the cherished ~xercises of the penitential spirit bequeathed by Saint Paul of the Cross to his sons. In order that the spirit of prayer might always be preserved in the Congregation, Saint Paul prescribed most riggrously that Pas-sionist monasteries be built always in places of solitude, and with every safeguard that the spirit of solitude be not violated nor intruded upon. Hence, even when built in the heart of large cities, there must always be sufficient acreage for gardens and privacy for the solitary walks prescribed by rule. Many of our 'American "monasteries are now surrounded by teeming residential sections, but when they were built they stood alone, in the midst of solitude. The cities have come to the monasteries, but because of the wise prescriptions of the Rtile the spirit of solitude is still safeguarded. However, the spirit Of the Passionist Congregation is also a spirit of apostolic activity. As the present Superior General, Most Rev- 243 FIDELIS RICE Review for Religious erend Albert Deane, C.P., wrote in a recent circular letter to the Con-gregatio, n: "On the day it would cultivate the contemplative life ex-clusively, the Congregation would cease to be what 'our Holy Founder instituted. Nor could he be said to be a good Passionist, who without legitimate cause would'omit to do what he could to attain the apostolic end of our Congregation, although under the p.retext of better caring for his own salvation. His religious profes-sion demands otherwise of him." In this ~ame document, our Most Reverend Father General has beautifully epitomized the heart of the Passionistic spirituality: "For our spirit, dearest Sons, can be likened to a'pyramid, made of the spirit of prayer, penance, and the apostolate, but held together by the fire of devotion to Christ suffering, having no other apex to which the ~exalted Passionist life converges than our configuration to Christ Crucified, whom we must preach by word and by example: 'We preach Christ and Him Crucified.' This is what the words say which we carry engraven over our hearts; this reminds us, if perhaps we sometimes forget, of our very name itself, for we are popularly called 'Passionists'.',' . The primary work of the Passionist Congregation, then, is a reflection of its inner'spirituality--the preaching of popular mis-sions, and retreats to the clergy and religious, as well as to the laity. Passionists conduct no schools, except for the education i~f their own subjects. They engage in parish work only as an exception, and for clearly defined needs in a particular locality. They are above all, preachers of the Passion of 3esus Christ. To this end they take a special vow to promote in the hearts of others, devotion to the Pas-sion of oresus Christ. They do, however, engage in foreign mission work, and they are likewise working among the colored in the South. Saint Paul of the Cross was a staunch advocate of enclosed re-treats for the laity. Cherishing, as he did, the wonderful advan-tages of holy solitude, it is not surprising that he would wish to share these advantages and blessings with the laity. And so he wrote into his Rule the prescription that in each monastery rooms should be provided for lay retreatants. In most of our American monasteries we have special retreat houses for men, and a flourishing retreat movement is an integral part of our Passionist family life. Because Paul of the Cross was consumed by the love of Jesus Christ Crucified, he burned with the desire to bring the riches of His death to the souls of men. He was profoundly aware of the 244 September, 1951~ . PASSIONISTIC SPIRITUALITY meaning of the priestly vocation, and realized fully that a p~iest must always communicate to the Mystical Body 6f Christ the life purchased by the sufferings of Ouk Lord. But he knew, too, that the most fruitful apostolate is that which is the overflow of prayer, rather than a substitute for it. Hence it was that no matter how gifted a missionary might be, no matter how eloquent on the mission-platform, and no matter how great the demand for his services, Saint Paul of the Cross rig- . orously required that each missionary spend a suitable portion of.the year in the solitude and quiet of the monastery. Although far wise to reduce this to a mathematical formula, the founder of the Passionists imposed upon superiors and missionaries alike the obli-gation to. preserve always in the Congregation this time of with-drawal each year from the exhausting round of activity. The demands for our services have grown with the years, and no fixed calend,a'r tan be drawn up which governs the exact details, but our superiors still strive faithfully and sincere!y to arrange the schedule for-each mis-sionary, so that he may spend a sufficient amount of time.withih the mona.stery each year. Saint Paul of the Cross was profoundly con-vinced that "one Religious who is a. man of prayer and lover of solitude will bring forth more spiritual fruit from the ministry than a thousand others who are not such." (Letters, Vol. III, 418.) .,. The Passlonlst family circle is made up of three groups: tl~e priests, the students or clerics, "and the lay brothers. ¯ In most of our American monasteries all three groups are found, for most of our monasteries are also houses of study, or seminaries in which young men are preparing for the priesthood. Our lay brothers, a shitable time after the profession of their perpetual vows, are admitted to }ecreation with the priests; and the recreation is common ~f(;r these two groups. The students remain always in a separate r~creation. The day's horarium.is divided bet.ween prayer and study. The day is spent in silence, except for the two brief recreation periods each day. Three days of fast and abstinence are .observed each week-- Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. During the entire time of Ad-vent and Lent, Sundays included, abstinence from meat is the rule within the monastery. Paul 6f the Cross does not want his sons to forget that t,hey must bd men of penance. For this reason, too, san-dals are worn on the bare feet, and a ro.ugh woolen h.abit is worn the year round. The Passionistic ideal;" then, is to share as intimately as possible 245 FIDELIS RICE. o in the sublime virtues which shone, forth so re~splendently on Cal-vary. It is the vocation proclaimed so sublimely by Saint Paul the Apostle in his Epistle to the Colossians: "Who now rejoice in my sufferings foF you, and fill up those things that are wanting of the sufferings of Christ in my flesh, for His body, which is the Church." (Colossians, 1:25.) So it was that that other P~ul, Paul of the Cross, sought to instill into his followers a burning love for the Crucified, a love which would make them conform their own lives by penance, solitude, prayer, and poverty, to the ideals of Calvary, that they might go forth to preach the glories and the ignominies of the Cross of Jesus Christ. The r~assionist spirit might be summed up in one word, "Stau-rosophy," for "stauros" is the Greek word for the Cross.; ,The sons of Paul o'f the Cross must remain ever absorbed by the wisdom or the "philc~sophy" of the Cross. Wisely has the Church selected the Introit for the Mass on the Feast of St. Paul of the Cross: "Christ0 confixus sum cruci." . "With Christ I am nailed to the cross." (Ga-latians, 2:19.) No other words of Sacred Scripture could epitomize more simply the ess.dntial spirit of this great lover of the Crucified, and of the form of life which he has bequeathed to his sons, who wear that habit of mourning first shown to Paul of the Cross in vision, by the Mother of God, when she told him to founc~ an order whose members would devote their lives to mourning for the sor-rows of Her Son. OUR CONTRIBUTORS F1DELIS RICE, writer and missionary, is on the mission band at St. Joseph's Passionist Monastery, Baltimore, Maryland. J. PUTZ, the editor Of Clergg Month-lg and author of Mg Mass, and P.DE LETTER, a recent contributor to American ecclesiastical journals, teach at St. Mary's theologate, Kurseong, India¯ RICHARD L. ROONEY is on the Queen's Work staff and editor of Action Now. C.A. HERBST and CLARENCE MCAULIFFE are o£ the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, . , : PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY The sul~scripfion pHce of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00"per year for" Domestlc.end ,Canadian subscriptions; $3.35 per yeer for all for~icjn subscrip-fio'ns. For further de~'ails please see inside back cover. 246 Modesty C. A. Herbst, S.J. ~4 ~t man's looks betray him: a man of good sense will make him-self known to thee at the first meeting; the clothes he wears, . the smile on his lips, his gait~ will all make thee acquainted with a man's character" (Ecclus. 19:26, 27. Knox version). This' is the Holy Spirit's description of modesty. Following His directive, St. Thomas teIIs us that this virtue is concerned with "the movement and actions of the body; that all of them, those gone through in fun as well as the serious ones, may be decent and proper." (Summa Theologica, 2-2, q. 160, a. 2.) Dress is also included. The cardinal virtue of temperance controls pleasure coming from food, drink, and ' sex, the most difficult things. Modesty, a part of temperance, takes care of the lesser. A subordinate in the hierarchy of authority takes ~in hand the little things. Modesty is therefore not at all the s~me thing' as chastity or purity, as many quite commonly presume, though it may be more or less connected with it. Not one's interior only but one's exti~rior, too, must be con-formed to the .norm of right reason. The easy and evident way for u_s to strive to achieve this is "to imitate Christ. "We must look with the eyes of the soul on that wonderful leader 'beautiful above the sons of men' in the ordinary dress He wore at home . Erect of body and with perfect composure His gait was neither too hurried nor too slow. There was nothing soft or effeminate, not.hiog childish or lackadaisical about Him. Neither could anything gloomy or exasperating be seen in Him, nor was there any assumed gravity. He was not singular nor finicky. His Whole being breathed sweetness, joy, kindness, majesty." (Le Gaudier, De Perfectione Vitae Spirit-ualis, Pars IV, caput xviii.). "Jesus began to do and to teach," first to tellus by His exampl~ how tb act, only later by His words. Our exterior modesty should be, as His, for the glory of God. "So let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven." It should make us more like God. "God cre~ ~ted man to his 6wn image: to the "image of God he created him." Man's likeness to God is, of course, in the soul, in his interior sanc-tity, but that interior dignity and perfection should shine forth, so 247 ¯ C. A. HERBST Reoeiw [or Religiou~ to speak, in the ,modesty of his exterior as through a beautiful and translucent garment, or as the rays of the sun make a cloud all silver and gold. That "image of God" ou.ght somehow to be mani-fested in the body. "Because man's body alone of all the animals on earth is not bowed down to the ground but so made that it can better contemplate the heavens, it can justly be said' that it is made more t6 the image and likeness of God than the bodies of other animals, as Augustine says. But this must not be understood to mean that the image of God is in man's body but that the very form of. the human body represent.s the likeness of God in the soul like a trace." (S. Th., 1, ,q. 93, a. 6.) The importance of modesty in the life of a religious can hardly be overestimated. One is forced to this conclusion from reading the masters of the spiritual life and by noting the Christian tradition through the centuries. The statement made by St. Ambrose in this matter is a classic. "Modesty must be preserved in our very move-ment, carriage, and gait. Our habit of mind is reflected in our body. "Thence the real man hidden away in the heart, the light-headed 6r careless or turbulent man or, on the contrary, the more serious or steady or more upright or more mature man can be ascertained. The motion of the body, therefore, can be called the voice of ~he soul." (De Of Kciis, I, 18.) St. Bernard says: "Modesty is the greatest of orn~ments in reli-gious, especially in the young. This is so true that if they do not cherish it there is little hope of their becoming good or virtuous . Lack of external composure in the body is a sign of an indevout mind." (Ad Quid Venisti?, xvii.) Knowing how very closely bod~r and soul are united we are not surprised to hear Hugh of St. Victor say: "As of a wandering mind are born disordered move-ments of the body, so when the body is brought under discipline the soul is made strong. Little'by little the mind within is brought to rest when under the watchful eye of dis.cipline its disorderly move- "ments are not allowed to flow to the exterior." (Delnstttuttone' " " Novitiorum, X.) So exterior modesty m.akes even a greater contri-bution to the soul than it does to the body. St. Vincent Ferrer'thought that a warrior of Christ could never free his soul from disorder if he did not first endeavor to rid his body of what was unseemly. From all of which it would seem to be clear why modesty is so much emph.asized in the beginning of the re!igious life: modesty of action and, incidentally, "modesty of words," which 248 Septernber~ 195 l MODESTY is silence. Even a beginner.can superimpose upon himself external order in the blessed hope that from it will come to him an array of spiritual goods. For it is easier to bring one's exterior under subjec-tion than one's interior. Mqdesty has a great apostolic value. St. Basil says that a virgin should "be seen by those who n~eet her to be such in habit and gait and every movement as to reflect the likeness of God. The eyes of those who behoId her should be incited to modesty and their mind instructed in virtue. They.should hold that sight in honor and, as I have said, show deference to and revere that image of God. As pictures of' satyrs make one laugh and as sad pictures fill the mind , with sorrow . so a virgin, since she is the picture--nay, the very reproduction--of purity, should even if merely seen raise the thoughts of those who behold her up to God . Avirgin, therefore, should be very careful to reproduce in herself the divine image in all t.hings." (Patrologia Graeca, 30, 714-715.) St. Francis of Assisi was most eloquent by his modesty. "It is told ofthe blessed St. Francis that he said one day to his companion, ~'Let us go to preach,' and so went out, took a turn in the city, and returned home. His companion said to him: 'BUt father, are v~e not preaching?' 'We have already preached,' he answered. That sedate-ness and modesty with which they, went through the streets was a very good sermon; it moved people to devotion and to contempt of the world, to compunction for their sins, .and to the raising of their hearts, and desires to the.things of the next world. This is a sermon in action, more effectual than one in w6rd.". (Rodriguez, Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues, II, x, 1.) The very sight of the young Saints Aloysius, Stanislaus, John Berchmans, and Gabriel of the Sorrowful Mother raised men's hearts to God. The gr.eat in-fluence for good of the pr.ayerfuI, recollected, and modest bearing of those who love God is but another striking instance of "actions speaking louder than words." That is why St. Ignatius said: "And hence it will follow that, considering one another, they will increase in devotion and praise our Lord God, whom every one must strive to acknowledge in another as in His image." (Constit. S.d., P. III, c. i, n, 4.) .The beginner must practice modesty, and by doing so he exer- Cises himself in many virtues. But modesty is also the mark of the perfect. A well-ordered exterior shows great interior'perfectlon. The man who has achieved this has already made great'prggr.ess. One 249 C. A. HER,BST Reveiu~ for Relig:ous who habitually and gracefully has his exterior under control has gone far in the direction of self-mastery. If one has to be mortified to be decent, as our novice master used to say, what constant mortifi-cation and vigilance must be necessary .to put on the modesty of Christ. For this, persevering and almost heroic self-conquest is neces-sary. In this connection it might be well to remark that if we put ourselves through the discipline and took all the pains from a super-natural motive to put on modesty, which is the etiquette of God's ch.ildren, that the children of .the world do to don good manners in public and social life, our merit would i~deed be surpassing great and our spirit of sacrifice supreme. "And they indeed that they may receive a corruptible crown; but we an incorruibtible one" .(I Cor. 9:25). But then, "the children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light" (Luke 16:8). Founders of religious orders have given special directives, "rules of modesty," for regulating external deportment. As those given by St. Ignatius of Loyola even now influence many thousands of reli-gious, it might be well to give some of them here. "All must be exactly careful to guard the gates of their senses (especially their eyes, their ears, and their tongue) from all disorder, and preserve themselves in peace and true internal humility, showing it in silence when it is to be kept, and when they have to speak, in the circum-spection. and, edification of their words, in the modesty of tbelr coun-tenance, gravity of their gait and whole carriage, without any sign of impatience or prided' (Constit. S.d., P. III, c. 1, n. 4.) "In all out-ward actions there should appear modesty and humility, joined with religious gravity. The bead should not be turned this way and that way lightly, but with gravity, when need shall require; and, if there be no need, it must be held straight, with a little inclination forward, without leaning on either side. For the most part, they should keep their eyes dowfi, neither immoderately lifting them up, nor casting them now one way., now another. Wrinkles on the forehead, and still more on the nose, are to be avoided, that there may appear out-wardly a serenity which may be a token of that which is interior. The whole countenance should show cheerfulness rather than sadness or any less moderate affection. The lips must neither be too much. shut nor too much open. The pace should be moderate, without any notable has,.te, unless necessity should require it; in which case, however, a care of decorum should be had. In fine, every gesture and movement should be such as to give edification to all men." (Rule~ 250 September, .MODESTY or: Modesty.). St. Paul says in another connection: "When I was a child,. I °spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But, when I became a man, I put away the tlSings of a child" (I Cor. 13: 11).'A child must hear and see and taste and smell and touch every-thing. But when he grows up he is willing to put away the things of a child--nay, is eager to. We can hardly imagine a grown-up going on playing with his toys. A man loses taste for such things. So is one as he becomes spiritually mature gradually weaned away, as he attains to th~ full stature of Christ, from the surface pleasure of the senses and the allurements of sense satisfaction. This is the more true the more he grows to relish the things of God. Then the curious ears and roving eyes and anything unbecoming in the countenance. carriage, and gait of childhood give place to that maturity and serenity proper to men and women at horhe with their Father the King. The practice of modesty is not only for religious propriety, or edification, or mortification, or to foster recollection, or to make pos-sible and encourage spiritual development and high interior activity. It is also to keep, our soul from becoming sick or maimed by venial sin or perhaps even killed by mortal sin. "Death is come .up through our windows" said the prophet (Jer.°9:21). St. Bernard comment~: "Death enters our windows when, with prying eyes and itching ears. we insist upon administering to ourselves the deadly cup of distrac-tion." (Sermo 24 in Cantic.) And St. Ambrose: "Who, midst so many bodily passions, midst so many snares of this world, can go along safe and undefiled? The eye sees: the mind is perverted. The ear bears: our attention is drawn away. We sm~ll something: our thoughts are 9bstructed. The lips drink: sin enters in. We touch" something, and we are inflamed with desire." (De Fuqa Saeculi, cap. 1.) That is why Christ, so mindful of human, weakness, instituted for the very end of life a special sacrament for the removal of the re-mains of sin contracted through seiase experience. At the last anointing the priest places the~holy oil "'on the eyes because of sight, on the ears because of hearing, on the nostrils because of smell, on the mouth bedauseof taste and speech, on the hands because of touch, on the feet because of Walking" (Council of Flore~nce, Decretum pro .Arrnenis) saying: "By this holy anointing and.by His most tender mercy may the Lord forgive you whatever guilt you have con- 251 C. A. HERBST tracted." St. Thomas explains: "This sacrament was instituted to" heal us. For a bodily cure we do not take medicine that will restore the whole body but those parts in which the root of the disease lies~ So the sacramental anointings should be made only on those parts where is found the root of the spiritual sickness." (S. Th., Suppl. q. 32, a. 5.) In conclusion, let us listen.again to a few words from that great master of the spiritual Jife, St. Bernard. "With the brethren be re-served, gracious, modest, affable, gentle, and on your guard. Be .strict with yourself but not in such a way as to be a nuisance to others . Every gesture and word, your way of acting, look, gait should be characterized by modesty and reserve. Let there appear nothing con-ceited or stilted in you, no boldness or anything overbea.ring . As the fear of the Lord puts order into a man's lif~ and prepares his whole interior for blessedness, so modesty brings his exterior under subjection. You should not become so familiar with anyone as to be completely forgetful of propriety in his presence." (Ad Quid Venisti?, xvii.) After all, "we are made a spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men'~ (I.Cor. 4:9). And His Divine Majesty is always pres-ent, too. "In him we live, and move, and are" (Acts 17:28); ETUDE SUR LA PAUVRETE RELIGIEUSI: The Sisters of Providence (Les Soetirs de la Providence) in Montreal have "trans-lated into French six articles on poverty which appeared in the REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS and published them in a booklet. The articles are: "M~y Religious Buy and Sell" (V, 50) and the "Gifts to Religious" series by Adam C. Ellis, S.J.; and 'The Spirit of Poverty" (VIII, 35) by" Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. The "Gifts" se-ries includes: "The Simple Vow of Poverty" (VI, 65), "Common Life and Pe-culium" (VII, 33), "Personal versus Community Property" (VII, 79, and "Some Practical Cases" (VII, 195). Copies of the booklet, called Etude sur la Pauvret3 2eliqleuse, may be obtained from P~ovidence Mother House, 2311, rue Ste-Cath-erine Est, Montreal 24, P.Q., Canada. Cost: 40 cents per single copy; 35 cents in dozen lots or more. ¯PLEASE NOTE C~AREFULLY The subscription price of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00 per veer for Domestic end Cenedian subscriptions: $3.35 per year for ell foreign subscrip-tions. For further deteils pleese see inside beck cover. 252 The race ot: Our Vocal:ion P. De Letter, S.J. [EDITORS' NOTE: In the March number of this year the author of "Why Do They Leave?" concluded the article with an inspiring section headed "Why Do We Stay?" In the present article Father De Letter's analysis of the grace of our voca-tion forms something of a theological counterpart and complement to the latter question. He points out the different graces included in the grace of vocation, namely, the grace of state, the grace of perseverance, the grace of progress, the grace of keeping the rules, and the grace of supererogation. He next gives the solid theological basis for trust in the grace of vocation and concludes by describing God's part, the actual graces of light" and strength, and ours, the conditions for our 'trust. "I will put great trust in the grace of my vocation," wrote St. John Berch-roans among the first of his watchwords. It is of this gr~ice of vocation that Father De Letter writes.] ~i~/JE 'OFTEN HEAR or read about the grace of our religious W" vocation. No doubt we often thank Our Lord for this most precious 6f His gifts. Wi~at exactly is it? Spiritual au-thors use the phrase in a twofold sense, first as the free divine gift by which God calls to the religious life, and secondly as the special helps of grace which enable religious, who have followed the divine call, to meet the demands of their state and to persevere in it till death. 'The second meaning, that of the special helps, of the grace of our vocation will be used. This grace is a reality of our everyday life.,If we allow it to play its part to the full, it may and does make a difference for our own pe£sonal interests and for the souls for whom we labor. For this reason it is well worth studying more closely what the grace of vocation implies and what is the basis of our trust in it. Then it' will be self-evident how we should exploit this God-sent treasure. Grace of State All religiogs, we are told, are offered and receive the grace proper to their vocation. As any other Christians, those who are called to a definite state of life with its definite purpose are offered by the Lord the graces necessary to pursue ,effectively the end of their vocation. This is true both of the general l~urpose of every religious life, which is to seek after Christian perfectioia.or holiness, and of the specific end of each particular order or congregation. Grdce of" Perseuerance in God's Friendship ¯ First'of all, religious are offered and, unless they'wilfully refuse, ~.ctual!y recei~re the actual graces needed to remain permanently on the path thatleads to perfection, "that is, to persevere in sanctifying grace. 253 P. DE LETTER Review for Religious These graces are needed. Theologians commonly teach that without the help of God's grace no one can maintain himself in His friend-ship, because fallen human nature is weak and inclined to evil. But these graces are always offered, theologians reassure us, to all who sincerely endeavour to 'please God and to preserve His love and friendship. And why? Because God's love is faithful: He does not allow to be sr~atched from His hands those who sinqerely desire to be His. If that is the case for all Christians in the state of grace, then it is more true for those whom a special divine call ~lestines for an ever growing perfection of grace. Religious, therefore, m~y count in a special way, by virtue of their very state in life, on the fidelity of the Giver of all graces. He enables them day after day and hour after hour throughout their religious life to avoid every grievous fault. Grace of Progress There is more than that. It is the fundamental duty of state for religious to advance continually in grace and perfection. That again is not possible without the help of God's grace. Our faith teaches us,. infallibly, that no good work for heaven can be performed with-out God;s gracious help. If that is so, and if religious grow in grace precisely by the works of virtue ' (and the reception of the sa.crame,nts, which grace enables them to do properly), then we must say that their Fathe~ in heaven, who is Love, cannot expect them to do thes~ works and not give them the needed help which He alone can give. That is why religious have and receive the graces necessary for the good works that are to lead them on to perfection, the goal of their vocation. ' Grace of Keeping the Rules and Obeying What are these good works? They are, naturally, commanded by the specific end of each religious institute. Concretely, they are laid down in the rules and constitutions: these outline the particular manner in which a religious vocation is to work out its ideal of Christian perfection, These laws and ways, therefore, differ for different institutes.' Hospital sisters, teaching religious, and contem-platives, are not expected to labour for perfection by exactly the same good works. Their respective rules point out to them "by which paths they are'to draw nearer to God. To follow these pathh ~nd no other, each one in the particular.office that is assigned him by the inst.itu, te and. in the community where obedience placed him, .is pnmista.kably the du.ty of state of. every re, ligious. And so all.~e.li- 254 September, 1~ 1 THE GRACE OF OUR VOCATION gious are offered each day the necessary grace to keep the rules and-fulfil their office: because fidelity to these duties is the concrete way for them to advance towards perfection and fidelity is not possible without these graces. Not every Christian, theologians teach, is at all times offered the grace needed for good works which are not of precept but are supererogatory, because, there is no clear indication that God's will demands these works from them. Only for such good works as are certainly willed by the Lord may we expect His grace to be guaran-teed. But the case of religious is a special one. Though the good ~works demanded by their rules are not, genera'lly speaking, strictly of precept (not at any rate when the religious laws do not bind under pain of sin) and are therefore in a true sense supererogatory, yet the very nature of religious rule implies that God clearly wills those works. His good pleasure and desire is expressed in the rules. By that very fact He also guarantees to ~eligious the necessary graces, ;¢¢ithout which they would be unable to comply with His good pleasure. , This conclusion applies equally to the acts of virtue which obedi-ence to superiors imposes on religious. Commands of religious supe-riors generally (exception being made for orders given in virtue of holy obedience, in whicJ~ the vows are involved) bring to their sub-jects the same kind of obligatiofi as the rules impose. As such, therefore, they do not bind under sin; yet they express to us unmis-takabl~ y the divine wishes. Religious receive the necessary actual graces for obeying the orders of their superiors as they do for keeping the rules. Though these acts of virtue, because not imposed under sin, are supererogatory in the strict sense of the word, yet they are, for religious, guaranteed as possible by the grace of their vocation. "Grace for Supererogatory Acts of Virtue There are additional virtuous actions which are not demanded of religious by rule nor by orders of superiors, but to which, they believe, a special inspiration of the Hgly Ghost invites them. Such good works, for example, extra .acts of mortification, or prayer, or humility, or kindness, are altogether free in the sense that no rule nor direction of obedience imposes them. These are not immediately covered by the grace of the religious vocation. To them will apply the teaching of theologians about supererogatory good works: not unless the invitation of God's grace be sufficiently proved genuine and ?eliablecan they count on His special help to follow up these inspira- 255 P. DE LETTER Review for Religtous tions. It should be added, however, that religious are, from their very state of. life, more opeh to these special invitations of grace. Why?" Because their fundamental duty of state is to aspire after perfection, and not all particulars that appertain to the practice of perfection are or can be determined by the rules or by obedience. Accordingly, religious need these special inspirations. Other things being equal, there is a greater probability that in the case of religious these inspirations of grace are genuine and reliable. To that extent and in that 'indirect way they also belong to the grace of the voca-tion. At this juncture the task of the spiritual director comes in to provide rehglous with sufficient guarantee that allows them safely to follow up these interior invitations. Without this sanction the danger of self-delusion would be real. That danger is excluded from all that falls within clearly known duty. Herein religious may and must depend on it that grace will not be wanting them, if only they themselves are not wanting to grace. Why is it so? Whai: is the dogmatic and theological basis of our trust in the grace of o.u.r vocation? Doctrinal Basis of Our Trust We have already hinted at the intrinsic reason why the grace of our vocation includes all the particular graces needed to fulfill our duties according to the rules and constitutions and the commands of the superiors. It is the following. God cannot command the impos-sible, because of His infinite wisdom and lo,;,e. Of religious He asks a constant strivin~g after perfection: that is the meaning of the reli-gious vocation. They find the concrete way to strive for perfection detailed in the laws of their institutes and the directions of their supe-riors. But to do all that is involved in keeping the rules and in obeying, many good works are needed which no man, religious not excepted, is able to do without the help of grace.: For two reasonsi both because these virtuous actions require a faithful effort which after original sin is not possible for long without grace; and because these acts are supernatural and of their very nature suppose the super-natural help of grace. If then God expected religious to live up to the demands of their vocation and did not at the s~me time give them ~he necessary graces, He would be demanding the impossible. Dogmatic Foundation The. ultimate foundation of this conclusive proof is nothing less than the highest possible authority on revealed truth: ,the infallible 256' ,September, 1~51 THE GRACE OF O~JR VOCATION teaching of the Church. The Council of Trent defined that it is not impossible for men to keep God's commandments; it condemned the contrary assertion of the Lutherans as heretical doctrine (DB 828). In St. Augustine's words the Council explained how men can, in spite of fallen nature's weakness, have the moral strength to do what God commands: "When He commands, He admonishes you to do what you can and to ask for help to do what you cannot, and He helps so that you can" (DB 804). Later. the Church condemned another heretical proposition of dansenistic pessimism which stated that "just men cannot keep some precepts of God even though they wish and try to do so, with the strength they now have; and the graze which would enable them to keep those commandments is also lacking" (DB I092). An infallible teaching, therefore, guarantee, s that we have the necessary graces to keep the commandments. That teaching aimed directly at those divine precepts which oblige under pain of sin, particularly of mortal sin. It may also be extended, though this conclusion is no longer infallible, to divine commands in a less strict serise of the word: to those expressions of the divine will which, though not binding under sin, .yet certainly manifest His desire ind. good pleasure. The Church's Authorit~I This latter is the case, as we well know, of the ordinary religious rules. We have a guarantee for it in the Church's approval both of religious life in general and of the particular religious institutes. The ¯ Church's sanction of the state oflife lived accordin'g to the three evangelical counsels is found in her age:old practice, which dates back td the early Cbristlan centuries, of approving and encouraging tbe monastic institute and the ascetical life. At the time of the Refor-mation it led to an infallible pronouncement, again at the Tridentine Council, by which she declared that the state of viriginity or celibacy is preferable to the state of Matrimony (DB 980). As to the appro-bation of particular institutes, theologians today are agreed in saying that in the solemn approval of religious orders the doctrinai judg-ment that the religious orders,, are apt means to reach Christian per-fection is covered by the Church's infallibility. In the less solemn .confirmation of other religious institutes, the Church's authority in-' volved is not the big.best; yet. that.approval also shares, according.to .the. degree, of the authority" that gives it, in the same fundamental guar.ant~.e:.of truth which is divine. Accordi,ngly? Catholic theology ¯' 257 P. DE LETTER Review for Religious is unanimous, in declaring that the obligation for religious to work for perfection according to the pattern designed in their respective laws is, because of the Church's approbation, the'clear expression of God's will for them. "On this doctrinal foundation rests the teaching of theologians who, like Suar~z, hold that the grace of a religious vocation includes the spe.cial supernatural aids required to live up to the ideal which is proposed to the religious by their institute. He wrote: "Since all ap-proved religious orders are deservedly regarded as founded by the special Providence of God, there is no doubt that each enjoys a'spe-cial divine assistance proportionate to its vocation, and hence greater in proportion as its institute is more exalted and difficult and organ-ized for the greater service of God and the more far-reaching good of the Church" (Rel. S.J., I, 6, 9). What holds good for reli-gious orders as a whole, also applies to the members. The graces of their vocation which effectively enable them to pursue the end of their institute are the concrete expression of the divine assistance that flows from God's special Providence over them. Religious, therefore, are building .their trust on the safe rock of Peter when they firmly believe in the grace of their vocation. More-over, does not the experience of the religioh~ life come to teach them that the Lord does not disappoint that trust? When and in the measure that they are faithful to their calling, they find out what these graces of our vocation mean in practice. Graces of Light and Strength As actual graces in general, so the graces of our vocation are of two kinds which, more often perhaps, are found together rather than isolated. First there is light for the mind, generally more affective and practical" than purely sp~e~uiative and cold (for they are meant to lead to action), by which the meaning and reality of the religious ideal, duties, privileges, favors, appear more clearly, more appealingly, and more exaltedly worthwhile. These' actual graces of light, on occa-sion standing out very markedly, at other times more dim yet really present, give a deeper and new understanding of the rules, of the ideal of poverty; chastity, obedience, of the community life and of our daily tasks of education, missionary work, medical charity, sacred "ministry so that the good works by which religious strive after sand-tity. take on their deep, often hidden, meaning. Together with that light goes a grace of strength and courage for'the will and heart, 25'8 September, 1951 THE GRACE OF OUR VOCATION tempering and steeling one"s whole moral an~ spiritual structure, actually enabling religious to live according to their light. These graces of fortitude, patience, and ability, make Jrpossible to keep up ¯ the effort for progress, and bravely and gladly to accept and take up the small and on occasion bigger crosses involved in the faithful ful-filment of their daily duties. These graces of strength, at times ex-perienced more forcibly, at other times, perhaps more commonly, perceived in humble and dim faith, smoothen the path towards per-fection which often is rough and always uphiIl. The remembrance of these graces received in the past is a precious confirmation" of Our faith and trust in the grace of our vocation. Condition of Our Trust That faith and trust is rightly ours on one condition: that we do, sincerely and hum.bly, what in us lies to answer the graces we receive. There is little need to insist on the first and foremost part in this cooperation with grace which we may take for granted, namely, that we live in the state of sanctifying grace. Progress in grace supposes the st'ate of grace. Unless the substance of the spiritual life be there, we cannot expect further grace~ for progress. These graces, according to the ordinary rule of Divine Providence, are usually given in proportion to oui" fidelity in accepting and answering them. One way of showing this desire of receiving and exploiting those graces is our faithful and insisting prayer for them. According to the hint of the Council of Trent we quoted above, our asking for graces may well be the condition for receiving them. We may even count on the abundant divine aids guaranteed by the grace of our vocation if we sincerely and generously trade for spiritual profit with those we receive. No doubt even then no one can vouch for it that he will never fail God's grace, even though grace does not fail him. We know it too well, human frailty remains in religious as well. And we need not be surprised at our daily faults of weakness which, we may confi-dently hope, involve but little guilty negligence. Provided. only we know how to exploit those very failings to deepen humility and a sense of our need of prayer and trust in the Lord, they do not seri-ously impair our fidelity to grace. Our desires and deeds continue then to express our sincere gratitude for God's great gift, our call to the religious life. Then we may and must always count on the grace of our vocation. 259' A Vocational Newspaper [Contact, a bright, four-page, two-year-old vocational newspaper from the arch-diocese of Boston, may be of interest to readers of the REVIEW who are not ac-quainted with it. The following description was written by a staff member of the publication. For further information write to: Director of Vocations, Room 622, 185 Devonshire St., Boston, M~,ss. ED.] Maintaining that "Personal contact between an interested priest or religious and a good potential candidate becomes the only real vocation program," Father Francis A. Barry, director of vocations in the Boston archdiocese, thought that a vocational newspaper might provide a natural occasion for conversation or 'even extended talks on religious vocations. The paper was given the significant name: Contact. Experience has shown the idea was a 'good one. Contact, a monthly during the school year, began publicati.o.n in October, 1949. His Excellency, the Most Reverend Richard J. Cushing, Archbishop of Boston, the founder of the special vocational program, is the adv.isory editor. The editor is Father Barry. He is assisted by eight associate, a makeup, and ten contributing editors. The latter include diocesan and religious priests, Brothers, and Sisters who write columns, features, reviews, and editorials. His Excellency financed the project during its initial year. The religious orders and congregations having houses in the archdiocese shared the major ex-pense since then. , Distributed gratis" to pupils of parochial or other Catholic schools, from the seventh grade through the senior year in school as well as to Sunday schools, rectories, and seminaries, the circulation now tops 50,000." Increased solely by ~ear-say advertising, the mailing li~t now re'aches out to thirty-one s.tates, the Philippine's, Cuba, Italy; France and Canada. The italicized, three-column, colored logotype carries the triple message: Information, Inspiration, and Action. To attract the young people's attention, each issue is printed with bright color spots, ac.cording to the season or month. Adjacent to some of the standing heads appears a small portrait of the editor of the column, showing his religio.us habit ahd giving his name and address. Feature pictures and action shots of'the apostolate of teaching or social service highlight each issue. Provocative headlines dot the pages: It Seems to Me . Horizons, Meet. some religious com- 260 September, 1951 COMMUNION FOR OTHERS ~nunity, Looking Out . thought from the seminary or the novi-tiate, Do You KnoW?, Parents" Column, and Around tile Diocese. Parochial high school reporters keep copy flowing to the desk of the editor of the last-mention~ed column. Contact reiterates the words of His Holiness, Pope Pius XII: "This vcJcation, thisloving call makes itself heard in manydifferent ways, as many as the infinite variety of accents in which the Divine Voice may speak: irresistible invitations, affectionate and repeated promptings,gentle impulses."--SISTER MARY REGINA, S.S.,J. Offering Communion t:or.Ot:hers Clarence McAuliffe, S.3. SISTER LOUISA sat placidly at her desk filling out the spiritual bouquet. It was the community's gift to Sistdr Mercedes who was to make her p~ofession next day. Sister Louisa was adding her contribution to the various specified good works-- rosaries, s{ations, visits, penances,, aspirations, Masses, Communions. It was an easy and congenial task and she contributed generously. But when she had finished, she found a question e.ngaging her mind,. a question she had never asked herself before. She had added five to the total of Commuriions to be offered for Sister Mercedes. 3ust what did it mean to offer Communion for somebody else? She ~had been doing it for many years. Her relatives and friends were always pleased when she told them that she would offer her Communion for them. Yet she had to confess now that she really did not know what she meant wh'en she told them that'she would offer her Communion for their intention. Many religious besides Sister Louisa have been puzzled by the same question. Nor is its answer easy to find. The purpose of this article is to clarify what we mean when we tell others that we are going to offer our Communion for them. It is important to remember that Communion produces certain effects that are inalienable. For instance, Communion automatically increases sanctifyin~ grace and most probably has the power,to con-fer more of this grade than any other sacrament. We do not transfer 261 - CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Ret~ieto for R'eligious any of this to others when we offer our Communion for them. Again, the increase of active love for Go~t and our neighbor which is the .special effect of the Eucharist and which depends on the fervor of our thanksgiving, is not surrendered by offering Communion for somebo~ly else. So too, the strength to resist temptations, the cooling of disordered feelings, since these are special though secondary effects of Communion and depend also on the fervor of one's thanksgiving, are incommunicable. The same is t6 be said of the additional right to a glorious bodily resurrection which is acquired by the worthy reception of Communion. Finally, the remission of venial sins which results automatically from Communion, if the recipient has sincerely revoked all wilful attachment to them, cannot be transferred to any other person. From all this it is ~lear that the principal benefits accruing from the Lord's Table remain with the communicant. In fact it might appear that no spiritual gifts remain which can lend real meaning to our promise to offer Communion for somebody else. But there are. When we ~o to Holy Communion we ordinarily do extra praying and a certain ambunt of mortification. We make a suitable prepara-tion and thanksgiving. We also fast beforehand. Now we all know that prayer and fasting are subjective acts of virtue, ~nd when made by a person in the state of grace, they have a three-fold value in the sight of God. For the sake of brevity, the theologians use tbre'e tech-nical words to express this three-fold efficacy. They say 'it is "meri-torious, satisfactbry, and impetrative." What they mean is that every act of virtue wins more sanctifying grace (meritorious efficacy), removes some temporal punishment (satisfactory), and pleads with God for spiritual and temporal favors (impetrative). In addition, therefore, to the sanctifying grace which comes spontaneously from each Communion, a person also gets more sanc-tifying grace from his acts of virtue elicited before and after receiving the sacrament. Since we can never give one iota of sanctifying grace, no matter by what means it is acquired, to another person, it is evi-dent that the grace proceeding from these acts of virtue at Commun-ion time is also retained by the communicant. However, the satisfactory and impetrative efficacy of these acts may be relinquished in favor of others when we offer Communion for them. Suppose we consider first the gift we make when we hand over the satisfactory fruits of our Communions. Ordinarily we are able to make a fitting preparation for the 262 oep*e,noer, I95 ! COMMUNION FOR OTHERS reception of Holy Communion. Not only do we fast, rise early, kneel down, but we also make acts of faith, hope, confidence, desire, humility, and perhaps acts of perfect love for God. Now each of these acts of penance and of prayer, by reason of our good subjective dispositions which accompany them, has the power to take away some temporal punishment. Moreover, since we are the ones who do the penance and say the prayers, we have the right to have our otot~ temporal punishment lessened by them. What happens, then, when we offer Communion for another? We transfer this incalculable benefit to the other party and, if he is in the state of grace, he receives it. The same is to be said of'the~ prayers we say at the moment when we receive our divine Lord and during the time that He remains pres-ent within us. We communicate the satisfactory value of all these prayers to the other person. Instead of shortening our own purga-tory we shorten the purgatory of another. We', so to speak, suffer vicariously and gratuitously for some one who has no real claim to our sacrifice. If we reflect for a moment, we shall also understand why the satisfactory efficacy of these virtuous acts preceding, accompanying, and following Holy Communion exceeds that produced by the same acts elicited at some other time. We suppose, of course, that our fer-vor (and by that we refer not to our feelings, but to our acts of will) would be equal in both instances. We shall also understand why Communion remits more temporal punishment than other prayers listed in a spiritual bouquet--for example, rosaries or visits to the chapel. We take for granted, of course, that our cooperation would be equally diligent and that the same number of acts of virtue would be made. Otherwise it could easily happen that a rosary re-cited devoutly and animated by many acts of virtue would remit more temporal punishment than a Communion prepared ~or and received listlessly and negligently. Buy other thin~s being on a par, there is an objective reason why Holy Communion should take away more temporal punishment than the rosary or other pious works. The truth of this statement rests .on the fact that ordinarily the acts of virtue we make in connection with Communion are more fer-vent (here again we do not refer to feelings of fervor) and more numerous than those evoked by other works of piety. This is pa.r-ticularly tru~ of the prayers we say during our thanksgiving' after Communion. And it should be noted that temporal punishment is 263 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review for Religious canceled in proportion to the fervor and number of our.tSrayers. But why should our prayers after Communion be more fervent? Because Christ is then physically present within us. As a result of His sacramental presence, both the number and the quality of the actual grac'es showered upon us are ~uperi6r to those which necessarily accompany every pious supernatural work. After Communion our Savior inserts a continuous stream of vivifying actual graces into our minds and hearts, and these graces have as their general object, not to arouse merely confidence or faith or humility, but love itself, the most noble of all the virtues. If we ponder these facts, we shall. readily see. why our prayers after Communion have a singular power to reduce the debt of punishment incurred by somebody else. So much for th~ satisfactory value of Holy Communion. We can be comparatively brief in treating of the sacrament's impetrati've fruit because it rests on the same principles we have been discussing. By offering Communion for others, v~e also mean that we trans-mit to them the petitional power of both our preparation and thanksgiving. The very same acts of virtue have not only a satis-factory, but also a pleading or intercessory value. They implore God to brant spiritual and temporal f~vors. Here again, since we are the ones who do the praying, we are the one~ who have a right to obtain the favors. But we,relinquish this right in fav~)r of other~ when we offer our Communion for them. We forget our own needs; we fore-go some benefits that would surely come to ourselves. ~re sacrifice ourselves for the other party. Of course, we must remind ourselves again that we cannot surrender those benefits that flow spontaneously from the Sacrament, such as the remission of venial sins, the growth in love for God and other people, the new title to everlasting glory and the curbing of unruly impulses. But there are many other spiritual and temporal favors that every person needs. There are .many that we ourselves need, even though we often do.not know precisely what" they are. Yet we forget our-. selves and transfer the intercessory vigor of our Communions to others when we offer Communion for them. It is like writing a let-ter of recommendation f6r som~ one else to obtain a benefit that you yourself need and have a right to; and it is a letter of recommenda-tion that you know is certain to be heeded. It is well to remember also that this impetrative efficacy of~Com-reunion is likewise of exceptional ~luality, just as the satisfactory efficacy, and for the same reason. The number and kind of actual 264 September, I~51 COMMUNION FOR OTHERS graces stirred up in the soul after. Communion exceed those accom-panying other good works. .Consequently if we co-operate with them, our acts of virtue will be correspondingly more fervent so that their pleading value is enhanced. Unfortunately, most of us probably do not pray explicitly "after Communion for the person for whom' we offer the Communion. This is, of course, not necessary since our intention made beforehand suffices to obtain for the otber~the satisfactory and impetrative fruits of the sacramefit. However, if we do remember to pray expressly for the' other person after we have received Communion, we shall un-doubtedly increase the value of our gift for him. It stands to reason that our Savior' listens to our. requests with a more willing ear when He is actually present within us with His Sacred Humanity. We recommend, therefore, the practice of praying explicitly after receiving Communion for the person to whom we relinquish the benefits. We may even ask Our Savior to grant certain spedfic favors, especially spiritual ones, to the other party. In conclusion, then, we cannot give away to anyone else the ¯ principal fruits of our Holy Communions. These we have itemized in the beginnihg. In addition to those listed, we might also add that when an indulgence is granted for the reception of Communion or for some prayer said,before or after receiving the Sacrament, we can-not offer it for another living person. Nevertheless, we do a singular favor foi others .when we offer a Communion for their intention. We sacrifice'for theirbenefit the satisfactory and impetrative fruits which are won by our acts of virtue preceding, accompanying, and follow-ing Holy Communion. MEDICO-MORAL PROBLEMS Medico-Moral Problems, Part III, by Gerald Kelly, S.J., contains complete dis-cussions of euthanasia, therapeutic abortion, organic transplantation,, and adult baptism. Also included are discussions of co-operation in illicit operations, the delivery of a. hydrocephalic infant, and lobotomy for pain relief. The booklet is published by the Catholic Hospital Association of the United States and Canada, 1438 South Grand'Blvd., St. Louis 4, Mo. 50 cents a copy; 12 for $5.25; 50 for $,20;' 100 for $37.50. Parts I and II can be obtained at the same place and at the same prices. 265 uestdons and Answers --20- An unexpected opportunity has arisen to sell a piece o{ communlt~ property {or $100,000, which is much more than we could get for it under normal circumstances. But the property must be transferred.withln ten days, otherwise the offer will be wlfhdrawn. VVhat shall we do about gefflng permission of the Holy See? Fortunately His Excellency, the Apostolic Delegate, now has faculties from the Sacred Congregation of Religious to permit the contracting of loans, sales, and alienations of property belonging to a religious institute, when the sum involved does not exceed a half million gold dollars, provided that the conditions laid down in canons 534 and 1531 be observed. We take this opportunity to inform our readers that the Sacred Congregation of Religious has also granted two other special facul-ties to the Apostolic Delegate: to dispense.religious for the reception of Holy Communion from the obligation of the Eucharistic fast so that they may take something by way of drink or m. edicin~, when their physician considers the keeping of the fast injurious to their health; also to shorten or prolong the postulancy prescribed by the Code of Canon Law (see Bouscaren, Canon Lau2 Digest, Supplement 1943-1948, p. 131, under canon 858). m2 I-- I have heard that permission of the Holy See is required {or th~ aliena-tion of notable relics and images. Is it proper ÷o infer that relics and ¯ venerated images may be bought and sold? Does his include sacred vessels? To .buy and sell is only one form of alienation. Hence it does not follow as a general rule that relics and venerated images may be bought and sold simply because the Holy See at times gives permis-sion to alienate such things. Since three distinct things are included in this question we think it advisable to treat each class separately. Relics. Canon 1289 states very plainly: "It is unlau~[ul (nefas) to sell sacred relics." To do so would be to commit a sin of simony. However, it would not be sinful to charge and pay for the metal case in which the relics are usuhlly inclosed. Canon 1281, § I tells us that "notable relics or precious images, and likewise all relics or images 266 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Which are honored in any church with great devotion on the part of the people, cannot be alier~ted validly nor transferred permanently to another church without the permission of the Holy See." What is me~tnt by notable relics? Paragraph two of canon 1281 gives us a list of notable relics: the body, head, arm, forearm, heart, tongue, hand, leg, or that part of the' body in which the martyr suffered, provided it be "entire and" not too small." Such relics may not be alienated without the permissi6n, of the Holy See. Since it is for-bidden to sell. relics, alienation here must be taken in its other meaning, that is, to give away, to lend, and the like. The permission of" the Holy See would be required also to alienate relics which °are not notable; provided that they are honored in a church with great devotion on the part of the faithful. Small relics in the possession of private persons do not come under canon 1281, but they may never be sold. Precious [maqes. Ecclesiastical goods (church property) are shid to be.precious,when they have a ~pecial value by reason of artistic, historical, or material content (canon 1497, § 2). An image is said to be precious if it was painted by a great artist, or was made of precious materials, and has a notable valu&, that'is, over 1000 gold life (about $335 in our present money). Such images, as well as others which are not precious but which may be called venerable because of the great devotion of the faithful towards them, may not be alienated without the permissiqn of the Holy See. Sacred Vessels. Things are said to be sacred when they are .destined for divine worship by reason of their consecration or con-stitutive blessing. Canon 1305 tells us that "an article of sacred equipment which is blessed or consecrated loses its blessing or conse-cration . . . if it has been put to degrading uses 6r has been exposed for public sale." On the other hand, canon 1539 states that "in the sale or exchange of sacred things no account of the consecration or blessing is to be taken in determining the price." We may say, there-fore, that sacred vessels may be sold privately by one individual to another, or by one moral person to another (a church or community to another church or community) provided no extra charge is made for the blessing or consecration. But sacred things may not be exhibited publicist for sale without losing tbeir blessing or consecra-tion. This applies principally to auction sales and to the placing of a sacred object in the window or in the show case of a store open to the public. 267 QUEST, IONS AND A .NSWERS Reuieu) for'Religious We may conclude by adding that a consecrated chalice and paten do not lose their consecration'by being regilded (canon 1305, § 2). May exfreme unction be admlnls+ered before any major opera÷ion? For the valid reception of extreme unction the subject must be in " danger of death ¯from sickness or old age. If the person who is to, undergo major surgery is already in this condition, he is capable of receiving the sacrament before the operation. It may be that this is ge~nerally the case, but it is not necessarily so. Some operations which may entail a great deal of danger are performed for removing some chronic condition which might not become dangerous, without the operation, for a long time. Such patients cannot be anointed before the operation. In practice, it is not easy to decide whether to anoint a person. before an operation or t6 hwait the outcome of the operation. ¯ There is no universally-established practice; nor could there be: Some patients are clearly not capable of receiving the sacrament before the operation; others are clearly capable; and still others are "borderline cases." Moreover, the pastor or chaplain has not merely to decide whether the patient can be validly anointed l~ut also to judge when the anointing would be most appropriate and beneficial. Our ¢ons+ffufions +el[ us +ha+ "[eff~rs fo +he S~s+ers as well as +hose senf by +hem shall pass +hrough ÷he hands of +he superior who may read +hem," In view of +hls s+a+emen+, may a eAenera[ chap+er eAranf +o 9olden jubilaHans +he prlvllecAe' of seal[n~ +belt leffers before ~ivlng ÷hem ÷o +hl superlor7 "-['he general chapter has no power to change the constitutiofis, unless the constitutions themselves give it that power, which is not likely. On the other hand, since the constitutions' do not oblige the superior 'to read all letters which pass through her hands, the general chapter could recommend that superiors refrain from reading the letters of golden jubilarians, but it could not take away the right to read them which is contained in the constitutions. The general chapter may likewise request that the constitutions be changed in this matter, if that be the wish of the majority. Such a request for a change in the constitutions would be made to the local ordinary in the case of a diocesan congregation, or to the Holy See (Co.ngrega-tion of Religious) in the case of a pontifical institute. 268 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Ret~iew /:or Religious m24-- Is the novice master to be present at the discussion of the general council which follows upon his report on the novices who are preparing for first professlon? Canon 563 reads as follows: "During the course of the year of novitiate, the master of novices, conformably to the constitutions, must present to the .chapter or the higher superior a report con-cerning the conduct of each of the novices." Strictly speaking there-fore, the master of novices makes his report to the chapter (in inde-pendent monasteries! or to the higher superior, but not directly to the gefieral council, unless the constitutions prescribe this. Hence a written report should be given the higher .superior who, in turn, will communicate it to the general council. Many constitutions have an article based on art. 300 of the Norrnae which says that "whenever in the general council the novices or the novitiate is discussed, the mistress should be called, who will make known her mind on the subject under discussion, or submit opportune information." There will be no need (and certainly no obligation) for the master of novices to remain at the council session after he has given the infor-mation prescribed by canon 563. If necessary, h~ can always be called back for further information. ~-25-- Is it permissible for sick Sisters who are not completely bedridden to ¯ receive Holy C~ommunion by the cell of a Sister who is confined perman-ently to her bed. These Sisters can manage to get around although the doctor's orders are that they rest as much as possible. Likewise the sana-torium in which they stay has' an elevator and the chapel is on the first floor. The general rule is that all should receive Holy Communion in the chapel if they can conveniently do so. If the Sisters are so sick that they are obliged to miss Holy Mass, even though they are up and about their rooms or in the corridor, they may receive Holy Com-munion on the floor on which they li~'e. As to the elevator: if the Sisters use .it to go to'another floor for their meals, then they should use it likewise to go to the chapel to receive Holy Commu'nion. In general one may say that if going to the chapel for Holy Com-munion would lengthen the time for the Eucharistic fast, or would put ar~ additional strain upon a sick Sister who is not confined to her 269 NEW MEDITATION BOOKS Review [or Reh'gious bed, she may receive Holy Communion on the floor on which she lives. --26-- Is the practice of saying I000 Hall Marys on the Feast of the Annun-ciation ÷o be considered a superstition? Everything. will depend upon the motive a person has in re-peating the Hail Mary that often on the Feast of the Annunciation. If this is done simply out of love for Our Lady, there is nothing wrong with it, since, it is a laudhble act of devotion. ~If, on the other hand, the practice were based upon a ~purious ,revelation, or a sup-posed efficacy which it does not have of its own nature (that of intercessory prayer), then it might be superstitious. New Medi!:a!:ion Books Like St. Teresa of'Avila, many religious,need a meditation book for many years to help them in their prayer. Four such books, writ-ten as helps for contact with God in prayer, have recently been pub-lished or reprinted. The authors are a German Capuchin, an Ameri-can Jesuit in India, an American Benedictine, and a Hungarian bishop. The books vary in purpose, content, and form. Direct, ~arnest, Practical One of the books is the fourth volume of MEDITATIONS by Father Bernardine Goebel, O.F.M.Cap., translated by Father Berch- 'mans Bittle, O.F.M.Cap. Adapted for the use of the Friars Minor Capuchin, the direct, earnest, and practical reflections will help any follower of the Gospel. The present volume is for the'time from Trinity Sunday to the Twelfth Sunday biter Pentecost. The meditation for Sundays is usually on the Gospel of the.day. Some of the topics developed f6r the course of a week are the Eucharist, the Mass, faith, hope, char!W, and love of .neighbor. Each meditation begins with a brief sum-mary of the meditation followed by a brief introductory paragraph, develbps two points w.ith a consid,eration and*application, and ends with a prayer. (Province of St. Joseph, 1740 Mt. Elliott Ave., Detroit 7, Michigan, 1950. Pp. 264. $2.50.) Prodac~ of Missionarg Zeal From the 'mission.field ~f Ifidia comes MEDITATIONS FOR EVERY 270 " September, 1951 NEW MEDITA'FION BOOKS DAY by Rev. P. J. Sontag; S.J. It has recently been reprinted in an attractive two volume set. The first volume containin~ I87 medi-tations covers the first half of the liturgical year from Advent to Trinity Sunday. The second volume complete~ the year bringing the total number to 369. Most of the meditations are based on the life of Christ. Meditations on the Apostles Creed, the Our Father, the sacraments, on social justice and Catholic Action are included, as ¯ ycell as meditations for the First Fridays, the lit.urgical feasts, feasts of special saints, and over twenty meditations "honoring Mary. Though the meditations'were l~repared specifically for the l~iity, priests, seminarians, and all religious will find them belpful. Each meditation fias two or three (the. additional gives the account from Scripture) preludes and three ¯points which contain ample matter for reflection. For the colloquy, the author modestly hnd wisely con-fines himself to suggesting the person, Our Lord or a saint, to ad-dress. The set belongs to the Science and Culture Series and has a preface by the general editor, Joseph Husslein, S.J. (The Bruce Publishing Company, 400 N. Broadway, Mil,waukee 1, Wisc., 1950. Pp. I, xviii q- 476; II, ix q- 466. $10.00.) Goal ol: Monasticism Volume three completes THE.SCHOOL OF THE L, ORD'S SERVICE by, Rev. Bernard A. Sause, O.S.B. (author of "Bene, dicti~e Spirit-uality," REVIEW, X, 7). The set gives a meditation based on the Rule of St. Benedict for every day of the" year. The present volume for the ninth to the twelfth month contains the text of the Rule of St. Benedict and thirty meditations on ea'cb .of the foll~)wing four subjects: spirit of detachment: good zeal': practices, interpretations. and attitudes that have grown from the Rule: and intimate union with God. There is a bibliography and a composite index for the three volumes. Each meditation contains a carefully developed consideration, an examen for the day, and a practical application. The considerations are enriched by quotations, examples, and commehts ~arnered from Benedictine tradition, The sources are given after each meditation. The author's" development of zeal is especially noteworthy. He pre-sents the virtue of zeal in a concrete, appealing'manner by singling out for each day of the month a Benedictine monk, nun, or lay Brother who exemplified some aspect of zeal in his or her life. Not all of the exam, plats are canonized saints. The book deserves and 2'71 NEW MEDITATION BOOKS rewards a careful, prayerful reading. (St. Meinrad, Indiana: The. Grail, 1951.' Vol. iII, Pp. vi q- 575. $4.00.) Devotion and Inspiration Rt. Rev. Ottokar Proh~szka, bishop of Sz~kefeh~rvfir, who died on March 28, 1927, was an outstanding and saintly prelate and a gifted, prolific writer. His MEDITATIONS ON THE GOSPELS are brief, s.wift-moving reflections on the entire life of Our Lord. He presents a text from the New Testament, gives a few short reflections, and leaves preludes, affections, and colioquies to the exercitant. The meditations should be a source of devotion and inspiration to many. The author w!;ites in the introduction to his work: '"I am come that they may have life, and may have it more abundantly.' I wish to serve this purpose of Jesus at His Incarnation, and to that end I am sending this book out into the world. It is intended to assist in the development of the life of Cbrist within our souls . Christ is God Himself in human shape, and I have to adore Him, and delight in His sublime beauty, in the depth and unique quality of His Soul, in the powerful originality of His mind, in the charm which He diffuses and in the life which flows forth from Him. My soul hangs upon His lips and hearkens to His every word. I see God reflected in Him as in a mirror; I bow my head upon His bands and surrender my heart to Him. He is God's Instrument; He will form me and harmonize thd conflicting elements within me." The present Newman edition bad three volumes fin one. The authorized translation from the Hungarian is by Margaret de Pill. Father C. C. Martindale, S.J., has written the foreword. (Wes.t-minster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1951. Pp.: I, xiv + 229; II, ix + 322; III, viii + 282. $5.50.) SPIRITUAL BOOK ASSOCIATES (381 Fourth Ave., New York 16, N.Y.) September Selection--R. Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. Our Saviour and His Love for Us. $6.00. October Selection--Henri Petitot, O.P. The True Story of Saint Bernadette. (Cf. REVIEW, May '51, p. 161). $3.50. 272 ¯ 8ook Reviews THE HISTORY OF THE POPES. By Ludwlcj yon Pastor. Translated by E. F. Peeler. Vol. 36: Benedict XIV (1740-1758). Pp. 513; Vol. 37: Clement XIII (1758-1769). Pp. 4S8. B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, Missouri. $5.00 per volume. This REVIEW (September, 1950) carried a notice of Volume 35 of the English Pastor, showing Pope Benedict XIV in the opening years of his pontificate working "with a pistol at his head," 'a weapon held by Catholic sovereigns demanding that he let them run the Church as well. ' It was particularly in m'eeting their concerted attack on the Society of ,lesus that Benedict XIV fought for his papal powers. Now Volume 36, the latter part of Benedict's pontificate, and 37, that of Clement XIII, come t6 hand, and their entire content is predominantly devoted to later phases of this titanic contest. Even so they bring the st.ory only to the end of the second last Act, and tfien break off while the~ translator works on the ddr~otternent. Will the Society, in the end, be suppressed? Will this regiment, of twenty-two thousand religious, in some forty provi,ces, 600 col-leges and over 1400 churches, be sacrificed? Read the next volume to foll~w shortly. To religious of both sexes, and members of whatever type of canonical organization, this story cannot but have deep and abiding interest. That it chanced to be the Ignatian Society against which the storm broke was because it was the "Swiss Guard" of the day, and the ruler of the Swiss Guard can expend his troops in battle, or order them back to the barracks to disband. Despite the faults and human weaknesses of the papacy's de-fenders, the story leaves them with the honorable distinction of. "canonical" death in the line of duty. Certain European monarchs were persuaded that the papacy had to be cut down to reasonable size. As the Minister Tanucci put it (37, 13) : "Certainly the primacy of the Pope was incontestable; he was the supreme head and centre of the Church; he had the right to summon a General Council, and he was infallible, but only when 15e made decisions in conjunction with the Bishops. But the Papacy in the form it had assumed in his day would have to. be abolished." 273 BOOK REVIEWS "The only way to treat the Pope was to . . . kiss his feet and bind his hands'~ .(28). So, under forms of exquisite politeness and courtly'deference, a violent strtiggle was waging. If the current tyranny of atheisti~ Commu, nism were being carried, on under the appearance of Catholic Leadership, if Marshal Stalin had his official minister at the Vatican to shape Catholic policy,.we could all the easier understand the high and mighty language of "unavoidable administrative necessity" that permeates these endless pages of eighteenth century despotism: It was proved with mathematical precision again and again that the mon-archs were but acting for the Church's good in withstanding the Pope, etc. Have we not heard these tunes being aired in our own day? Will it. be different in the twenty-second century, or the twenty-fifth? Details are all irrelevant; the contest wages still: evil has not prevailed, but it availeth much--GERALD ELLARD, S.J. THE LOVE OF GOD AND THE GROSS OF JESUS. By ÷he Rev. Regl-nald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. Transl~÷ed by Sisfer Je~n~e Marle, O.P. Volume Two. Pp. vi q- 461. B. Herder Book C;o., Sf. Louis, 1951. $~.00. This volume carries forward and completes Father Garrigou- Lag~ange's studies on divine love and the perplexing trials that are apt to befall souls fairly far advanced in the way of that love. Briefly this is the content of it. Part one deals with "crosses of the senses." These ar4 understood to be just what St. 3ohn of the Cross describes as "the night of sense," and hence here we ,have Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange's interpretation of that portion of St. 3ohn's doctrine. Correspondingly the second part is taken up with St. dohn's !'night of the spirit." Both sections, therefore, are concerned with what one might term the dark, distressing, disconsolate, phase of the mystical life. Part three is headed, "The Life of Union through desus and Mary." Among the themes considered are the inhabita-tion of the Blessed Trinity, the unity and sublimity of the apostolic life, the priesthood of Christ, His kingship, the Blessed Virgin Mary as a model of reparation, and St. 3oseph as a model of the hidden life and first among the saints. As parts one and two would com-fort'and strengthen one who is suffering, the rigors of the night of the soul, so this third part has much that is positively very magnificent and inspiring. The Three Ages of the Interior Life is expressly offere~l to the 274 September, 1951 BOOK REVIEWS public by Ft. Garrigou-Lagrange as a synthesis of this work and Christian Perfection and Contemplation (vol. I, v). Hence it shares in the merits and demerits of that larger and later work. These were discussed at length pro and con'in this REVIEW previously (Novem-ber, 19'49, pp. 297-317; March, 1950, 78-95). ' Since The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus was subsequently incprporated in The Three Ages and presented there in the form which the author now prefers, it seems rather surprising that it should be translated and published at this time. Except for scholars who wisl~ to see both studies, one who wants Fr. Garrigou- Lagrange's ideas on these matters should preferably seek them in the later and more definitiire work--AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD, S.J. THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST~ By John of St. Thomas. Trenslated fro~ the Latin by Dornin~c Hucjhes, O.P. With e Foreword by Walter Farrell, O.P. Pp. x -f- 293. Sheed end Ward, New York, 19SI. "$3.7S. Now Fr. Hughes has done, and in beautiful form, for English readers what Madame RaissaMaritain did a number of years ago for the French, that is, he has made a translation of the celebrated

Issue 66.1 of the Review for Religious, 2007. ; ' Spiritu:alilty Perspectives Community Tod:ay~s Saint QUARTERLY 66.1 2007 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the" holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: ~w.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious - 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ RO. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2007 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff l~ebmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell 0SB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Clare Boehmer ASC Martin Erspamer OSB Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 66.1 2007 contents prisms 4 Prisms 19 spirituality Aging and Christian Spirituality: Joy and Resignation Matthias Neuman OSB explores two challenges of aging, namel.v, the ability to enjoy and the need of resignation. Dreams in Prayer and Discernment Jennifer Constantine Jackson examines the human experience of dreams as one resource from the Lord that can assist us on ¯ the road to spiritual maturity. Reflection/Discussion Questions 3O perspectives Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist Rende Mirkes O~'S shows how being Franciscan can and does affect the way she does ethics. Review for Religious 40 58 Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue Colleen Mary Mallon OP explores dialogical communion, from the writings of the French Dominican Yves Congar, and reflects upon specific practices of discipleship that promise to deepen communal conversion while offering prophetic witness to a global world. Personal Reflection/Group Discussion community Rose Hoover RC says that being together on the inward journey is a subtly rigorous togetherness not to be missed. 64 An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers Robert Schieler FSC describes his congregation's Holy Week retreat in which three provinces saw a happily workable way to be energetically together as one. 74 today's saint Mother's Quest and Bequest: Theodore Guerin's Sainthood Mary Roger Madden SP provides a historical vignette of her congregation's recently canonized American foundress to show the greatness of her spiritual bequest. departments 90 Scripture Scope: The Bible and the Church 95 Canonical Counsel: Bona Ecclesiastica 101 Book Reviews 66.1 2007 prisms Do I want to be holy? When we ask our-selves the question, the answer would seem to be obvious. Since we believe in God and we want to enjoy life forever with God, we are trying to be holy. Probably many of us would find it a bit pretentious to say that right now we are making the effort to be holy. Why is it so off-putting for us to admit simply that we want to be holy? Trying to be holy sounds, well, sanctimonious. We judge that we are priding ourselves on some-thing we are not. We don't want to be people setting ourselves down at the head of the table in Jesus' parable, only to be told to take a lower place. All too often we think that to be holy includes all the things that we are not: unfail-ingly pious, always prayerful, never offensive, and ever patient and long-suffering. Perhaps images like the eyes-rolled-up to heaven, the hands folded, and the pallid face featured in many portraits of our saints hold us off from identifying with holiness. We likely need a reevaluation of what it means to be holy. God is the holy One. If God is by nature holy, then we are not naturally holy. But God calls us to be holy and empowers us to "be holy as I am holy." In the sacramental life, we identify these key empowerments in baptism, confirmation, and eucharist. God the Father, in the identifying of us with his Son and in the gift-ing of their Spirit, has truly made us sons and daughters. Being part of God's family--the ones adopted in Jesus' name--we merit being called holy ones, the saints as St. Paul frequently refers to his fellow Christians in the various churches to whom he writes his letters. Review for Religqous We might believe that we are called to be holy, in fact, that we are children of God. But what we are and how we act might be two different things. What does it mean for us to act like holy persons? Jesus is our way that we come to understand and live a divine holiness. Holiness, above all, is rooted in our love relationship with our triune God in Jesus. By watching Jesus in action, we discover how we are to live and act holily. Let's take some examples that we ordinarily do not associate with holiness. Jesus lives his holiness in his presence and in his participation in parties such as the Cana wedding feast and in banquets of all kinds, sometimes held in houses of those consid-ered public sinners such as Matthew and Zacchaeus and at other times in the homes of his pious "betters"--like Simon the Pharisee. Holiness, we see, is made real and strengthened in enjoying life, like parties and banquets. In all kinds of circumstances, Jesus expresses holiness in breaking the rules--usually surrounding Sabbath obser-vances- because of his compassion and love. Jesus, we see, teaches us that holiness is not to be identified just with "keeping the rules." Priests and Levites--good peo-ple- kept the rules of not contaminating themselves by helping a wounded traveler, but it was the foreigner, a false-believing Samaritan, who acted holily. Jesus says that we must act as one who loves neighbor as oneself. Jesus shows us that holiness grows in the conversations and interactions with all different classes of people, sometimes with people who think quite differently from him--the ways of Jesus' ministering in the gospels. Jesus shows us that dealing with others who think differently from us is a part of our being holy. Simply said, to live holily, as Jesus shows us, is to live an everyday kind of life, graced always by the love of God and love of neighbor. David L. Fleming SJ 66.1 2007 MATTHIAS NEUMAN Aging and Christian Spirituality: Joy and Resignation spirituality Aging, that universal human experience, is one of life's great mysteries. Why the various stages in the human life cycle: infancy, childhood, ado-lescence, adulthood, and old age? Why should human life be like that? Why do we grow up and then slowly break down, piece by piece, until death comes for us? Our creative God could have arranged matters differently. But the real-ity remains that human life, unless tragically cut short, ends with old age, dissolution, and death-- years that people often find extremely troubling. Old age is where aging really hits home. Aging, especially the last phase, "old age," has become a major social issue for many Western countries. The graying of populations looms in many of them as a social and economic issue. The recent report of the President's Council on Bioethics, Taking Care: Ethical Caregiving in our Aging Society, puts it pointedly: Matthias Neuman OSB has written for us often. His pres-ent address is Our Lady of Grace Monastery; 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. Review for Religious There is no question that we are on the threshold of a "mass geriatric society.," a society of more long-lived individuals than ever before in human history. For this great gift of longer and healthier life for ourselves and our loved ones we are, and should be, enormously grateful . At the same time, however, there are good reasons to be concerned about the human and moral shape that a mass geriatric society will take, especially if the "price" many people pay for the added years of healthier life is a period of protracted debility, demen-tia, and dependence stacked up at the end before they eventually die. Such a reshaping of the life cycle will create enormous challenges for nearly every family and for the entire society.! The Catholic ethicist Daniel Callahan pinpoints some of those troubling issues. By 2030 almost 20 percent of the American population will be over 65; the combined costs of Medicare and Medicaid will double; close to half of those over 85 will suffer from some form of dementia. He says: "The projected long-term institutional costs alone, quite apart from medical expenses, will be astronomical.''2 Aging also appears as an increasing pastoral care issue for the church. The 1999 document of the Pontifical Council for the Laity, "The Dignity of Older People and Their Mission in the Church and in the World," says that the increasing number of aging people in the developed coun-tries of the world will cause some significant shifts in the style and opportunities for pastoral care: The ecclesial community, for its part, is called to respond to the great participation which older people would like to have ih the church by turning to account the "gift" they represent as witnesses of the tradition of fai.th, teachers of the wisdom of life, and workers of charity. [The Church] must therefore reexamine its apostolate on behalf of older people, and open it up to their participation and collaboration.3 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality Aging doqs not need o be a series of losses th'a can only be eiid ¢ed::i In this article I explore two challenges that aging pres-ents for Christian spirituality. These challenges touch individuals, families, parishes, and the church as a whole. Aging does not need to be a series of losses that can only be endured. Indeed, it offers genuine possibilities for spiritual growth. I came to be interested in this topic for several rea-sons. Seven years ago my father fell on some ice and broke his hip. He never really recovered from that, and spent his last two years in a nursing home. In those two years my parents, my sisters, and I talked much about the reality of nursing-home life, about how many things aging compels the elderly and their families to give up. A year after my father died, my mother fell inside her house and broke her hip. She recovered much better than he did. She had observed the nursing home firsthand and had no desire to go there: "The smells and the food would kill me for sure." Her great effort to do her therapy and avoid the nursing home enabled her (at age 86) to finish the rehabilitation program three weeks early. She was able to return home, but my sisters and I felt she needed a watchful presence around her more than a duplex could-provide. So she moved into a home for the elderly, and Ibecame chaplain for the Benedictine sisters who run the home. My mother and I walk together frequently, our conversations returning now and then to the trials and opportunities of aging. At ninety-two she feels them acutely. I must face my own aging too. At sixty-four, I have had to accept it for some time now. In the last twenty years, I have given up physically competitive sports; my Review for Religious football, baseball, and basketball gear were given away long ago. I still have golf and the treadmill, but the clock is ticking there too. For the last three years, back prob-lems have cut short my summer golf. What encouraged me more than anything else to do some spiritual reflection on aging was a little pam-phlet titled The Grace of Old Age by Father Vincent M. O'Flaherty SJ. He.wrote a series of reflections while a patient in a nursing home himself. His view of aging is special, and he provides some excellent thoughts on the spirituality of aging. Here is one: "When I look at my tensions from the point of view of detachment, I see that each tension is a fear of losing the power to enjoy one of the goods of this life. As a grace, aging is a slow death of the power of enjoying this world.''4 That last cuts deep. But, as Father O'Flaherty adds, it also makes more spiritual growth possible. But wherein does that spiritual growth consist? Throughout Christian history, old age has not stimulated a lot of sustained reli-gious thinking.5 In developed Western countries, that is due in part to the fact that, until the latter part of the 20th century, most people did not live to old age as we know it. In 1790 the U.S. population over age 65 comprised only two percent. By 1980 that was eleven percent, and in 2004 it was approaching fifteen. The President's Council on Bioethics says that the fastest-growing age group in the U.S. is "the oldest of the old (people age 85 or over).''6 In the last quarter century, the increasing percentage of older people has created much investigation into all aspects of growing older. But there is a counterbalance to this increasingly aging population. As the number of older persons in the U.S. increases, the inherent value of any one of them decreases. Previously the elderly's very "scarcity" was a value. A household with an elderly per-son, with someone who could tell the family's history, was 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality considered honored and blessed. In our own day people are more likely to worry about how many older people there are and how they are going to be cared for. Both the joys and resignations, " of old agk can be seen~ hs ways of deepenin~ g onr . relationship with~ God. Perspective People generally have two ways of considering the onset of old age. Both appear in scientific as well as common thought, and both are mentioned by the Pontifical Commission's document "The Dignity of Older People.-7 The first way is to anticipate joys, to expect that each age possesses its own blessings, its own joys and achieve-ments. The last years of life offer particular graces: the joy of grandchildren, lessening responsibility, time for relaxation, oppor-tunity to do some things you always wanted to do. The Christian tradition often encouraged this, considering old age a blessing. The Bible provides some examples: "Gray hair is a crown of glow" (Pr 16:31). "You shall rise before the aged, and defer to the old" (Lv 19:32). Older persons are presumed wise, from their great store of life experience. A second way to deal with aging is resignation. This seems the predominant way. People work at accepting the inevitability of aging, and its conclusion. Aging always involves loss. People must give up many things along the way. At each stage of life, valuable and dear things are left behind. Resignation includes a fearful looking ahead to possible situations that one would rather not face. The fear of helplessness, of being a burden to others, remains Review for Religious extremely troubling for many people. With resignation, one tries to be ready for inevitable losses without becom-ing angry about them. There is a whole body of literature on "disengagement theory.''8 As they advance in age, most people probably experience some joy about their future and some resignation regarding things they fear. All of us have to learn the proper proportions for ourselves. This is a matter of our religious response. Both the joys and resignations of old age can be seen as ways of deepening our relationship with God. Enjoying Joys As people grow older, they do not lose their right to joy in life. They can still partake of joys and pleasures, simple though they may be. The church's teaching on pleasure and joy has not always been as positive as it might have been.9 From the perspective of Vatican Council II, people are beginning to see life's legitimate joys as our ini-tial sharing in the resurrection. A nursing-home resident make this point directly: "Despite pain, I am experiencing joy. If that is so, I am experiencing God. I am delighted to wake up in the morning, to have another day to experi-ence God in joy. The simplest things--the weather, the barren trees of winter, the sports scores, reading, staying in touch with families and friends--all give me joy. In all I find a taste of God. Yes, it is tough to grow old, but I have found joy that I did not know in my youth.''1° Some of the sharper slants of disengagement theory would urge the elderly to disengage themselves from any joys that keep them attached to this world. But a Christian spirituality would encourage older persons to enjoy what they still can. Indeed, other scholars of aging would assert that older people who are not too old can develop abili-ties that they never knew they possessed. Studies suggest that the brain's left and right hemispheres become better 66.1 2007 Neuman * Aging and Christian Spirituality integrated during middle age, making way for improved creativity in one's older years. Age also seems to dampen some negative emotions, making it easier to get rid of anger.1~ My own mother in her eighties developed a bet-ter attitude toward death than she ever had previously. It happens to others as well: An editor I know at a New York publishing company provides a case in point. He was in his sixties and con-templating retirement when he realized that he had finally matured into his job. Despite a sharp intellect and a passion for excellence, this man had spent much of his career alienating people with brusque, critical comments and a lack of sensitivity. Now . . . he was finally beginning to master interpersonal communica-tion. As his emotional development caught up to his intellectual development, he morphed from a brilliant but brittle loner into a mentor and a mediator of con-flicts . His best work was still ahead of him.12 This potential to be creative and surprising is some-thing that those who work with the elderly need to be more aware of. Often they do not give aging people a chance. Sometimes the elderly do not give themselves a chance. Learning new abilities, arriving at positions we could never previously attain, constitutes a great joy of one's older years. The Vatican document "The Dignity of Older People and Their Mission in the Church and in the World" urges that the legitimate charisms of older people be recognized. These gifts can be real blessings for the entire church.~3 The charism of disinterestedness, the ability to give some-thing or to give of themselves without any thought of return, is a special gift that older people can share with younger generations. Another charism of the elderly is memory, in particular carrying the past forward and creat-ing a shared identity for a family, a parish, or some other group. Similarly the charism of interdependence, the ability Review for Religious to overcome individualism and self-seeking and enter into genuine interactions with others, becomes very specific in the lives of the elderly. In many ways elderly people have a need of being interdependent. Their deeply felt awareness can teach :., ,-,, -. - o o., :::c~umauitz~te'sloysi~ndpteasures. nity, and integrity in being old and being old in public. That witness amazed many people, and there is much we still need to learn from it.~4 Let us consider some of the joys that are specific to old age. One is reminiscence--thinking back to the happy and satisfying events of one's life. That can surely be a genuine joy. My mother has often said that the vacations my family took together give her much to remember and delight in. (For twenty years we went on a week's vacation each summer.) Another joy as a person ages is to anticipate the contributions one can make by instructing a younger generation and see them grow to maturity, surely a joy for one who looks back on a lengthy teaching career. Father O'Flaherty reminds us that certain joys, although genuine, are limited: "Part of the confusion over the question of happiness in old age comes from a rela-tive definition of fun. Thus we might ask whether living in Sun City is fun. If we look at it from the point of view of entertainment, Sun City has everything. But we should not exaggerate fun in old age; it peaks out with grandma knitting in a rocking chair. Neither a young nor a mature man would be attracted by the fun in Sun City.''s 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality Christian spirituality invites the aging to have a deeper appreciation of human life's joys and pleasures. There are created joys appropriate to each stage of life. These should be identified and savored, even or especially by the elderly. Here Christian spirituality can take a hint from Jewish spirituality: A characteristic attitude is taken up by the Talmud towards the pleasures of life. Recognizing that what has been created by God for man's enjoyment must be essen-tially good, it not only counsels men to indulge in them but even condemns those who abstain from them. The rabbis assume the standpoint that God wants his creatures to be happy, and it must therefore be sinful deliberately to shun physical happiness and material well-being.~6 Vghile traditional Christian spirituality would allow a much more positive place for asceticism, s011 there is room in Christian spirituality for legitimate joys and pleasures at each stage of life. This means acknowledging and delighting in the pleasures (a sunny day, an exciting sporting event, a glass of wine). Then, going a step fur-ther, it means giving praise to God for these gifts of joy. Enjoyment is a part of God's providence for us. Facing Resignations Enjoying what pleasures one can in old age is part of Christian spirituality. Nonetheless, at the center of a spirituality of aging remains the reality of facing the many resignations life demands. No matter how great the joys are that elderly people may delight in, acts of resigna-tion are perhaps unavoidably greater. Giving up various pleasures of life is a never-ending part of aging: driving at night, strenuous or agile physical movement, certain well-liked foods, traveling to visit distant friends. The list goes on and on. To recall clearly something you have loved to do for Review for Religious twenty, thirty, or forty years and say "No more" both scares and humbles. So, as Christians, how do we deal with these resignations in ourselves and in others? First we admit that they are difficult and frightening. People coping with them should be patient with themselves and with others. Instant or pat answers like "Christ gave up everything, so should you" can do more harm than good. Elizabeth Kiibler-Ross showed five stages that people may experience as death comes closer: denial, anger, bargain-ing, depression, and acceptance.~7 These may be present when people have to use a walker all the time for mobility or have to enter a nursing home. We can help people to acknowledge the pain and loss they feel; denial does not help. We can be there with them, what Sheila Cassidy has called a "Stabat Mater" spirituality, a simple, silent, stand-with-them presence.~8 After each acceptance of loss, people may feel a loss of integrity. To their mind they will seem to be "less," "needier," a "bother" to others. The helping spiritual task assists them to regain a connectedness with people and things, to help them see that their life still possesses a fundamental meaning and purpose, that their own inner life will always have value in sight of God and for those who love them. We think back to Father O'Flaherty's comment: "Aging is a slow death of the power of enjoying this world." In our later years, aging is dominated by physical and mental decline and the giving up of many pleasures. There is also the fear of facing significant pain; that takes serious resignation as well. Father O'Flaherty puts it well again: "Modern medicine has increased my tensions. I am on 'their' side when they prolong my pleasures, but I classify them among nay enemies when they propose to prolong my pains . My fear is that they would lengthen my three hours on the cross to six.''~9 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality Vatican Council II's Constitution on the Church has some fine insights about offering our lives to God as spiritual sacrifices: "For all [the laity's] works, prayers, and apostolic undertakings, family and married life, daily work, relaxation of mind and body, if they are accom-plished in the Spirit--indeed even the hardships of life if patiently borne--all these become spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ" (§34). The chal-lenge is thus to see each resignation as a spiritual sacrifice. In their later years people offer their life's troubles. Their fragile and failing bodies and minds become gifts pleasing to God. Father O'Flaherty notes: "'vVhen a man gets old and his mind gets foggy, he cannot formulate flowery prayers. At the beginning of the countdown (age 65) he should start saying the prayer of simple presentation so that he will be in the habit of using it when his faculties are not keen. Just present yourself to God . Push your wheel-chair into the chapel and show your broken hip to our Lord. This throws the burden of giving you a cross on Almighty God. It is the resigned way of praying, with full resignation to the will of God.''2° " When people are young, faith shows itself in a lot of activity, vision, building. But in old age faith turns much more around seeking the peace of God. In facing the res-ignations of aging, giving up and faith are almost indistin-guishable. Sometimes all the elderly can do is bring their broken bodies as their spiritual sacrifice; that is their way of building the kingdom of God. The Constitution on the Church notes, too, that suf-fering can be a way to holiness. "In a special way also, those who are weighted down by poverty, infirmity, sick-ness and other hardships should realize that they are united to Christ, who suffers for the salvation of the world" (§41). In old age, that suffering becomes very real Review for Religion, s and sometimes omnipresent in aches and pains, some-times very severe pain. One of the challenges that aging presents to Christian spirituality is coming to believe and assert that pain in old age becomes a genuine prayer. In dealing with the many resignations of aging, we are always working toward that confession of Christ in the garden: "Not my will, but yours be done" (Mt 26:39). From a Christian perspective, that is the result of every resignation: it becomes a holy resignation, the offering of our lives as a spiritual sacrifice. Notes ~ President's Council on Bio-Ethics, 7~;king Care Ethical Caregiving in Our Aging Society (2005), pp. xvii-xviii. 2 "Curing, Caring, and Coping," America (30 January 2006): 13. 3 Pontifical Council for the Laity, "The Dignity of Older People and their Mission in the Church and in the Vqorld," in Autumn Blessings: Living Old Age in Faith (Little Sisters of the Poor Publications Office, n.d.), p. 43. 4 Vincent M. O'Flaherty SJ, The Grace of Old Age (Franciscan Herald Press, 1976), p. 31. s An overview of this topic may be perused in K. Brynolf Lyon, Toward a Practical Theology of Aging (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985), "Aging and the Christian Theology Tradition," pp. 31-53. 6 Taking Care, p. 7. 7 Autumn Blessings, pp. 15-16. 8 Lyon, Toward a Practical Theology, pp. 64-66. ~ Jacques-Marie Pohier, "Pleasure and Christianity.," in Franz B6ckle and Jacques-Marie Pohier (eds.), Sexuality in Contempo~w~[y Catholicism (New York: Seabury Press, 1976), pp. 103-109. m Frank Moan SJ, "Prayer and Pain," America (19-26 June 2006): 19. ~ Gene Cohen, "The Myth of the Midlife Crisis," Newsweek (17 January 2006), p. 82. 12 Cohen, p. 12. ~s Autumn Blessings, pp. 18-20. ~4 Robert Proctor, "A Farewell to Remember: \~That John Paul II's Death Taught Us," Commonweal (3 June 2005): 19-25. ~s O'Flaherty, Grace, p. 20. 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian SpMtuality 1~ A. Cohen, Eve~yman's Ta&md (New York: Schocken Books, 1975), p. 230. ~7 Elizabeth Kiibler-Ross, On Death and Dying (Touchstone, 1969, 1997). ~s Sheila Cassidy, Sharing the Darkness (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1991), p. 66. ~90'Flaherty, Grace, p. 17. :o O'Flaherty, Grace, p. 55. via dolorosa it is their sorrow I bear yet they will never know how they have been beaten like a hanging rug stripped bare they are unaware of their nakedness and this is their anguish to thirst and not know why to bleed and not see the wounds Lou Ella Hickman IWBS Review for Religious JENNIFER CONSTANTINE JACKSON Dreams in Prayer and Discernment /~lthe past forty years, writings on Christian spiritu-ity, particularly on prayer and discernment, have given renewed attention to dreams (Doran 498). This article elucidates some movements in this area of study and then invites spiritual directors and discerners to make use of them in Ignatian spirituality. Dreams represent a way of true responsiveness, especially for the laity, to the church's call to an authentic obedience, an obedience that is at all times discerning and fulfilling God's will in the world (Lumen gentium, §37). Some of the earliest contributions to this recent attention to dreams are John A. Sanford's Dreams: God's Forgotten Language (1968) and Morton Kelsey's Dreams: The Dark Speech of the Spirit (1968). The key insight that begins with these works is captured in 1978 in Kelsey's Dreams: A Way to Listen to God (p. 9) and again in 1991 in his reflections on his teaching at the University of Notre Dame: "As I listened to my dreams, I found a presence Jennifer Constantine Jackson, a teacher, is currently a student of theology and Ignatian spirituality. Her address is 333A Harvard Street, Apt. 1A; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02139. 66.1 2007 Jackson * Dreams in Prayer and Discernment wiser than I trying to guide me through my difficulties to wholeness, a wholeness that was possible only when I con-tinued to be in touch with the infinitely loving Holy One" (God, Dreams, and Revelation, p. 213). Dreams take place within one's relationship with God. They invite listening in a process that seems to be initiated and sustained not by the dreamer but by God. Kelsey says that the current ambiguous, even fearful attitude about dreams in Christian spirituality is very dif-ferent from that of the first millennium of Christianity: "The early Christian church viewed the dream as one of the most significant and most important ways in which God revealed his will to human beings . We find this view in the Old Testament, in the New Testament, and in the church fathers up to the time of Aquinas" (God, Dreams, p. 17). Kelsey and others cite many church fathers acknowledging dreams as helpful for growing in relation-ship with God. In his response to the Epicureans' denial of this possibility, Tertullian "specificallysuggested that dreams have various levels of interpretation, and finally he asked, 'Now, who is such a stranger to human experi-ence as not sometimes to have perceived some truth in dreams?'" (109). Kelsey also cites the fathers' reservations concerning dreams in the life of faith. Clement details what must be the formation of one who interprets dreams (106), Origen says that evil spirits can enter dreams (108), and Gregory emphasizes the dangers for those not aware of the illusory nature of dreams (142). It is clear from these cautionary words that there was a shared under-standing that dreams must be discerned within faith. Concerning attentiveness to the needs of Christians today, Kelsey's emphasis on "wholeness" seems to be echoed in The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality. In its entry on "dreams," James L. Empereur SJ cites "the sig-nificance of dream work for spirituality and personal inte- Review for Religious gration" as "based on the conviction that every dream is in the service of wholeness through the integration of the inner and outer lives" (296). At the close of Empereur's four-page entry, the reader still wonders how the "service of wholeness" intentionally involves a participation in the life of the Trinity on the part of those involved in the work of dreams. In Spirituality in Depth: Essays in Honor of Sister Irene Dugan RC, Michael Cooper SJ's reflections on "A Spirituality of Balance" provide some assistance. Cooper says: "At the end of the 'discourse of antitheses,' the Beatitudes in Matthew, Jesus sums up all he has just said by exhorting his disciples, 'You must, therefore, be perfect, just as your heavenly Abba is perfect (Mt 5:48)'" (57). Contrary to the "strict and demanding tone" that the Greek word telios has often taken on, Cooper says that "the actual Greek New Testament meaning of telios is whole, complete, balanced!" (57). Herein lies a key to actualizing "that divine balance which lies at the heart of his gospel call to relationship and discipleship" (59). Highlighting the early communities devoted to religious life in the church, Cooper shows how an attentiveness to dreams in a community's faith life could contribute to this "divine balance": The hermits--male and female--lived alone but never too far from each other, so that they could cry out and be heard in case of threat or illness. Because of the isolation and sensory deprivation, some underwent the equivalent of today's Jungian analysis as their dreams and halluci-nations brought their demons and forgotten memories to the surface. Those who survived this descent into their own netherworlds and who were deeply grounded in their own humanity and in their own Christian faith eventually gained renown as wisdom figures. Individuals would come out to the desert to seek spiritual counsel and often stayed for weeks or months as they pursued their own spiritual conversion. (59) 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment For those committed to religious life in the first centuries of Christianity, the fruits of attentiveness to dreams could be pursued successfully only through grace and only if the purpose was life in Christ. As Kelsey notes, this very purpose brought St. TMr~se of Lisieux spiritual consola-tion through her own dream near the end of her short life (God, Dreams, 164). Are these matters relevant to Ignatian spiritual direc-tors and discerners today? In a 1979 series of lectures on For those committed. to religifus life in thee first centuries of Christi~nity)_ the fruits, of attent, iveness to dreams could.~be pursued, Successfully only through grace only, if the .purpose. was life in,Chris "Jungian psychology and contemporary Christian spiritual-ity," published in Review for Religious, Robert Doran SJ noted that, reserva-tions about Jungian psychology notwith-standing, "there is much that we not only can, but indeed must, learn [from Jung] in developing both a theology and an ascesis of spiri-tual transformation in the context of the contemporary world" (499). Working in the tradition of Bernard Lonergan SJ, and noting as well Karl Rahner sJ'S work in Ignatian spirituality, Doran provides an essential guide especially in the matter of dreams and discernment. Doran found himself more and more convinced that "a psychological understanding of the development and flow-ering of human affectivity., is pertinent to our spiritual self-understanding" (857). Both spirituality ("grace, the Review for Religious supernatural, self-denial, the following of Christ" [858]) and psychology are involved in the "realm of interiority," which is also the reahn of dreams and desire (500). "It is the task of spiritual theology," he says, "to mediate these two conceptual worlds [spirituality and psychology], the one with the other, by taking its stand in interior experi-ence, which is the dimension to which both sets of con-cepts refer if they are talking about anything real" (858). Doran emphasizes such a task because of what he has noticed as two severe problematic positions concerning the relation of spirituality and psychology. The first is "the reduction of spirituality to psychology" (857), and the second, "a tendency, once, perhaps, pronounced in Christian spirituality, [and] still to be found," divorces "spirituality from psychology so completely that discern-ment itself becomes impossible . Such an orientation, when put into practice, leads to a split consciousness and a compartmentalized life" (858). The tendency toward this second extreme, he thinks, is because of an ambiguity concerning, in particular, the work of Carl Jung. Here lies Doran's important contri-bution. He precisely identifies Jung's contributions to an Ignatian discernment of spirits, and he shows clearly where Jung failed to be true to his own scientific method. How Jung contributes to spirituality, he says, is rather by "helping us to recognize inordinate projections and disoriented affections, than in orienting us positively to the God of Christian faith and to Christ"; for, in this area of faith, "Jung, I find, is quite deficient, and his thought derails him from the appropriate orientation to the real-ity of God" (858). Doran emphasizes that, if it is clear where Jung's thought fails, Jung's con(ributions can be much more fruitfully employed. And so he elaborates with a special concern for how a false appropriation of Jung can seriously affect an authentic discernment of spirits: 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment Jung's theological ambiguities, and the alternative inter-pretations and evaluations that are offered of his work, are symptomatic of an underlying spiritual conflict that can be mediated only in the context of the dialectic of grace and of sin, of the standards of Christ and of Satan. David Burrell has indicated correctly that one cannot fail to meet God if one goes on the inner journey to individuation. But one will also meet much that is not God and that is even opposed to God. Not only does Jung not help one to discriminate these forces as they operate in the psyche, but he also contributes to and even encourages the confusion that can be experienced in such moments that call for discernment, and thus mires one in the conflictual forces that wage an ultimate battle in the depths of one's psyche. Jung's work, if left uncriticized, leads one into a psychological cul-de-sac that can assume demonic proportions. (499) Jung sees the issue of good and evil as something to be reconciled within the self, rather than acknowledging that the problem of evil remains and is not within our capacity to resolve. The only. solution can come from redemption, and redemption can come only from God, and God's exis-tence, knowledge, ~nd goodness are offered to us to be accepted or rejected: If we accept it, [it] will involve us in a whole new area of growth and transformation, an area which we would not even know in any explicit way if God had not come to meet us. This distinct area of development is related to our cognitional and mora.1 development. It is not the product of our knowing and our choosing. It is not something that we vainly imagine, or that we produce by wishful thinking. Rather, it is offered to our knowl-edge and our freedom as a gift. (501) Our acceptance of this gift means we are in the realm of "faith, which Lonergan defines as 'the eye of love,' the eye of the love that is ours, that is the atmosphere in which we live, when we know ourselves as uncondition- Review for Religious ally loved by, and rooted in, the love that is God's alone" (501). Any true attentiveness to dreams must take place in this context, where, as Rahner knew well in the tradition of Aquinas, "even in the direct vision of God, God will remain for us an incomprehensible mystery" (858). Now more than ever in history, says Doran with Rahner and Lonergan in the tradition of Ignatius, Christians long to see God and to know that God is the mystery that engulfs them and also to know what they are knowing and feeling. This, says Doran, involves not only self-transcendence, "an accepting of God's offer of both salvation and vocation," but also self-appropriation, which "is a matter of self-knowledge, of self-discovery, of self-understanding" in this acceptance (504) and which also constitutes for the Christian a commitment to prayer and discernment. He says that some factors of modern life make this self-appropriation necessary. His reason for seeing dreams as an important component in prayer and discernment, especially the discernment of spirits, is that they involve feelings, and, applying Lonergan's thought in the tradition of Ignatius, he says: To name one's feelings is to discover the dynamic images, the symbols, that are associated with them. To have insight into one's feelings is to understand the symbolic association. To tell one's stoW is to narrate the course of one's elemental symbolizing. And where does one's elemental symbolizing occur in its purest form, untainted by the biases that, in waking life, can lead us to distort our stow? The place . . . is in our dreams. It is in the dream that we first are conscious, and it is in the dream that we find a "stow" going for-ward that we cannot distort without being aware that we are doing so. If we want to know our "story"--the story of insight, the story of judgment, the stoW of decision, and the stoW of prayer--we can find it in our dreams. There is a psychic conversion that puts us into contact with that stoW. It affects us deeply once it has 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment occurred. For it enables us to judge ourselves in our waking life as authentic or inauthentic in our pursuit of understanding, in our seeking of truth, in our decisions, and in our search for God. (510) Dreams offer one way of being attentive to this mystery that is God. The dreams from the lives of the saints come to mind, and their careful, caring, detached attentiveness to them serves as a model for all Christians committed to a life of prayer and discernment. Since a way is clear for an authentic use of Jung's con-tributions concerning dreams, how such contributions can be employed in the service of prayer and discern-ment should be regularly considered and shared. Maureen Dreams offeron way of being at tentiVe . to this mystery that i God.:. Conroy RSM attends to this question and begins to answer it (by reflect-ing on anima and animus in relation to desolation) in the final pages of her book where she reflects on contemporary issues in the ministry of spiri-tual direction (236-238). First and perhaps most important in aiding "the soul to rid itself of all inordinate attach-ments" (SpEx ~5), dreams can invite people to notice whether anything other than God is at the center of their life. Dreams brought to discernment can serve as personal parables, offered intimately by the Lord for the discerner to explore. Conroy gives instances where discerners on their own initiative mentioned dreams in speaking of their prayer difficulties. In one case, the dream helped the discerner realize that she was "playing God" by try-ing to control the events of her life at the time (182-183). In another case, the dreamer felt wounded by someone he may have been trying to substitute for God, a situa- Review for Religious tion causing unrecognized angers inside him (232). Both Conroy and William Barry SJ (God and You, 52-53) note that such emotions can block prayer. The dreams, then, would be ways that the Holy Spirit invites us to bring our lives to Christ. Kelsey reminds us that dreams come as "receptions"; in the New Testament, visitations are generally received with some fear--and with the message "Don't be afraid" (173). Dreams may offer the gift of spiritual consolation. In the final chapter of his Weeds among the Wheat, Thomas Green SJ describes a woman's dream after the death of her husband, a dream that is clearly a spiritual consolation for her (163-164). In the "afterglow" of the consolation, "it seemed to her that this experience of God's love, of confident hope in bereavement, could not be merely for herself alone, and that it must be the Lord's intention that she write about it and thus provide hope and strength to others similarly bereaved" (165). As Kelsey recounts the dream of St. Thdr~se of Lisieux (God, Dreams, 164), it is clear that her dream, too, was a gift of consolation from the Lord. Dreams can beg contemporary pray-ers to be listen-ers. Attending to dreams requires making time for listen-ing, and, in a culture where people are not easily "hit over the head" with Scripture (Shannon 8), dreams can teach us how to be more receptive to God's word. "Authentic silence," Shannon says, "is pregnant with words that will be born at the right time" (3). Authentic listening is con-nected to authentic vision; both are arts we need to cul-tivate if we wish to be open to the Holy Spirit. As Jules Toner SJ says in his commentary on being open to the Holy Spirit in the Spiritual Exercises, "there is a factor in openness to the Holy Spirit which . . . is closely related to readiness to seek counsel . Sometimes, even with-out our noticing it, one or other of [our] prejudgments 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment 28 can play a major role in blinding us to the evidence for the decision to which the Holy Spirit is leading us" (96). Being open to the "evidence" of our dreams, and pray-ing for this openness, are authentic ways of becoming genuine listeners and persons of vision in every aspect of our lives. Dreams also can teach us to trust in the Lord. With dreams as with other data from our lives that we bring to discernment or direction, there are times when we simply cannot see and do not have the answers. The data of a dream may simply be too confusing or unclear. At these times discerners must wait and trust in the Lord. A renewed attention to dreams in Christian prayer and discernment is a way of true responsiveness, especially for laypersons, to the church's call to an authentic obedience. Thomas Green says that "religious congregations' ideas of common life and obedience have often been distorted in such a way as to canonize the annihilation of personality" (38). In our day, prayerful exploring of dreams may be unique expressions of the life of the Spirit in the church. This can be a new way for the laity to participate more integrally in the life of the church, a wonderful oppor-t- unity for a new level of sharing gifts. At the same time, we continue to be called to greater participation in the life of Christ, who Willingly took the cross so that we might share in his resurrection. If a greater attentiveness to dreams in prayer and discernment is going to achieve anything, may it be to give greater glory to God through a radical participation in the life of him who gave himself for us. Bibliography Barry, William A., SJ. God and You: Prayer as a Personal Relationship. New York: Paulist, 1987. Conroy, Maureen, RSM. The Discer~ting Heart: Discovering a Personal God. Chicago: Loyola, 1993. Review for Religious Cooper, Michael, SJ. "A Spirituality of Balance." In Spirituality in Depth: Essays in Honor of Sister h'ene Dugan RC, ed. Avis Clendenen. New York: Chiron Publications, 2004. Doran, Robert M., SJ. "Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I, II, and III." Review for Religious 38 (1979): 497-510, 742-752, and 857-866 respectively. Empereur, James L., SJ. "Dreams." In The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993. Green, Thomas H., SJ. Weeds among the Wheat--Disce~vm~ent: Where Prayer and Action Meet. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1984. Kelsey, Morton T. God, Dreams, and Revelation: A Christian Interpretation of Dreams. Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1991. Shannon, William A. Seeking the Face of God. New York: Crossroad, 1988. Toner, Jules, sJ. Discerning God's Will: Ignatius of Loyola's Teaching on Christian Decision Making. St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1991. Reflection/Discussion Questions 1. What does it mean for me to listen to my dreams? 2. Have I had the experience of a dream influencing a significant change or decision in my life? What were the circumstances? 3. Can I relate to the statement "Dreams may offer the gift of spiritual consolation"? If so, let me review the experience. 66.1 2007 RENEE MIRKES Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist perspectives Confessions are never easy. Typically, the stage is set by a .collage of eye-openers. In my case, the events that propelled me headlong into this pub-lic disclosure are interlaced with the common thread of what-it-means-to-be-a-Franciscan. First, some while ago, a new acquaintance of mine innocently asked, with clearly spoken ital-ics, "So, what's it like to be a Franciscan ethi-cist?" Second, for the last fifteen years or more I, together with all the members of my religious congregation, have been encouraged to immerse myself in, and be formed by, not only the ideals and vision of St. Francis of Assisi, but also the eponymous religious tradition fathered by him. And, third, while reading several months ear-lier Cardinal Ratzinger's 1996 address critiqu-ing moral relativism, I was revisited by an old uneasiness.~ I kept asking myself: Are you suffer- Ren6e Mirkes OFS, a Franciscan" Sister of Christian Charity, is ethics director at Paul Vl Institute; 6901 Mercy Road; Omaha, Nebraska 68106. Review for Religious ing from some kind of Franciscan schizophrenia or what? My difficulty, in a nutshell, was this. From one side, I was perfectly at peace with the fact that new pope's exposition confirmed me in the way I help my clients, students, and readers to identify the fallacies of moral subjecfivism. But, from another side, I was unsettled by realizing that my way, like the pope's, was not Franciscan in approach but Dominican and Thomistic. The first incident urges me to confess--t0 acknowl-edge- that until I was questioned I honestly never thought of making a practical connection between being an ethicist and being a Franciscan. The second experience encourages me to confess--t0 declare my si,l or failing--that I have dragged my feet when expressly recalling how Franciscan spirituality actually shapes the here-and-now manner in which I "do" ethics. The third episode prompts me to confess--t0 admit my belief--that Franciscans and Dominicans can learn a .lot from each other, specifically from the charisms of their respective traditions. For the details of this tripartite confession (and a summary critique of moral relativism to boot), I invite you to read on. I confess that I previously neglected to give seri-ous thought to whether my being a Franciscan could affect my ethics work. Learning from the lessons of life is a lot about making connections. And making con-nections is all about understanding what things mean. Before facing the question I began.with, I confess that "Franciscan" is not on.e of the adjectives I routinely used to describe my avocation. I was a Catholic ethicist; I was a Christia~? philosopher; I was an ethicist who is a vowed re/igio~ts. But I had just not taken that seemingly small step toward saying--and comprehending what it means to say--that I am a Francisca~z ethicist. In other words, before I did some careful analysis of the matter, being a 66.1 2007 Mirkes ¯ Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist Franciscan was just a footnote of, rather than organically related to, my work as a vowed religious ethicist. So, wittingly or unwittingly, the questioner forced me to confront a real hiatus in my thinking and action. Why did I fail to connect the dots of being a Christian, an ethicist, and a Franciscan? The longer I thought about it, the more deeply convinced I became that the crux of my problem was not a rift between my avocation and vocation but my intellectual failure to link my Christian and consecrated-life vocations to my Franciscan calling. I was letting my Franciscan identity wither, and so it was not having its full effect on my life and apostolic work. Lacking attention from me, it was overshadowed by my Christian and religious vocations, becoming a dim sem-blance of what it should have been. Suddenly all those instructions I had received before and during my formation began flowing through my mind. To live as a Franciscan is to respond to Christ's call to follow him, to follow the universal call to holiness, the call I received at my baptism, the call to live and think with the church. To be a Franciscan sister is to incarnate the gospel life that inspired Francis to total discipleship through the vows: ."go and sell," "take nothing along," and "deny yourself." Hence, distinct but interrelated com-ponents simultaneously guide my following of Christ. I have dedicated myself to the evangelical call to holiness, to the long church tradition that draws on prayer and the authentic sources of Christian spirituality, on the recent instructions of the church on the vowed life, and on the particular lifestyle proposed by St. Francis of Assisi. There it was: the proper frame within which I could think anew about being Franciscan in my work as a Christian ethicist. And, for me, seeing Franciscan identity against its proper background was to understand, as if for the first time, its close relationship to my Christian and Review for Religious consecrated vocations. Within this frame, I understood why being a Franciscan is essential in my avocation, my vowed life's apostolic mission to be a Catholic ethicist. I confess that I had never given serious thought to the manner in which being Franciscan did, does, and will affect the way I do ethics. I am confessing here my past failure to explicitly recall the leaven of Franciscan values in the dough of my apostolic service. You see, I had forgotten to note their here-and-now effect, not so much on the content and method of my profes-sional activities, but on the style, manner, and spirit in which I do my work. Once I had explicitly adverted to that leaven, however, I realized I had here a virtu- '.tion on.,[rn .,iFra ci can Values ever more ous circle. Frequent meditation on my Franciscan values fostered an ever more Franciscan self. The more spirited my Franciscan heart, the greater likelihood its values-- continual conversion, poverty, humble "minority," and prayer--would be evident to those I serve.2 First, take the Franciscan charism of pove~-ty. Where every consecrated religious takes vows to live as the poor, chaste, and obedient Christ lived, followers of Francis embrace his special love for poverty. Note that, for il Poverello (the little poor one), poverty was a code word for living the gospel. As such, the vow encompassed not merely being monetarily and materially poor but also the more demanding challenge of imitating the kenosis, the radical self-emptying, of Jesus. For Franciscans, then, special esteem for the vow of poverty means asking for the grace to be formed into the image of the Servant- Lord who washed the feet of his disciples and gave up his 66.1 2007 Mirkes ¯ Confessions of a Franciscan Etbicist life out of love for sinners. For this Franciscan, then, the ethics consults that are "baked in the cake" of my every-day service afford me the precious gift of correcting and encouraging, praying with and, yes, sometimes sharing a good cry with, my clients, moving them ever more surely, moral choice by moral choice, toward their ultimate end of the Good. I frequently remind those who consult me that, because their love of the Truth and the Good is so profound, our exchange puts me in their debt. Indeed, these consultations provide me and them the double blessing of serving Christ in each other. Second, while every religious order requires its mem-bers to conform to Christ by living virtuously, Francis put humilit.y at the top of his list. Imitating Francis, I am called to give first place to the truth about myself as well as my abilities. The former lets me see that God can sing through this poor instrument as long as it is emptied of self; the latter helps me to know that all is gift. While it is true that God has blessed me with the ability to inspire people in their pursuit of the Good, I pray that my being a Franciscan shines through in the way I respond to acco-lades. After a lecture, for example, I always, but always, turn people to the real source of their inspiration: "Oh, I am so pleased you were moved by the truth of Humanae vitae! Isn't it a powerful document?" or "I see that the wisdom and holiness of Edith Stein really spoke to you. Thank God for the living witness of his saints." Third, all religious congregations encourage living in community as an explicit way to serve fellow religious and strengthen them in their service of the larger society. But Francis wanted friars and sisters to be minores, persons who lived together and claimed no special rule or domi-nation or power over anyone. Striving for that attitude as an ethics consultant, lecturer, and teacher, I provide knowledge and advice not in an imperative or domineer- Review for Religious ing way, not in a manner that makes nay moral authority felt, but in a way that appeals to the freedom and dignity of others. In doing so, I reflect and "preach" the value of "minority" by being submissive to those I serve for the sake of God. Fourth, where the church has always encouraged reli-gious to a deep conversion and self-emptying, St. Francis insisted that penance/continual conversion take primacy of place in the mindset and practice of his followers. Pursuant to a Franciscan vocation, the disposition of metanoia means letting one-self be totally cap-tured by Christ. It means unremitting movement toward the Good and avoid-ance of evil. These are the very desires I continually try to foster in those I serve. Frequently I exhort couples, "You will be tempted to give up, to cease wanting to convert to the Lord in the midst of challenging procreative issues. But resist the quick fix 'solutions' of contraception, ster-ilization, abortion, and IVF. The trade-off for expediency in these matters is an attenuated spousal relationship, a weakened family bond, and lost opportunities to lay down one's life for the other out of love." Finally, from his lived experience of the gospel, Francis understood that love must include mission. To demonstrate this he turns our attention to Mary, the per-fect disciple. Francis's way of being Marian was to emu-late the boundless love of Mary for her Son, love which flowed into the spiritual and corporal works of mer#. . Francis God ~ombats evil through holy~,-rn~n and: women, ~ ,.~.aro~gh tho~ who are dedicated 66.1 2007 Mirkes ¯ Confessions of a Franciscan Etbicist encourages every follower of his to frequently recall the scene of Mary standing beneath the cross, standing in the center of the struggle between good and evil, reminding all--but especially a female Franciscan ethicist like me-- that God combats evil through holy men and women, through those who are dedicated to instructing the ignorant by teaching morality. I confess my belief that today's moral climate requires me to morph into a hybrid ethicist: a Franciscan-Thomist. Recall that my uneasiness with the pope's response to moral relativism was largely because his position--and mine--were in the Aristotelian-Thomistic tradition rather than in the Franciscan tradition. If we had sought a Franciscan answer, it would have come from Bonaventure or his theological successors, Duns Scotus or William of Ockham. Had these men fought a heresy of relativism in their day, they would characteristically have appealed to a voluntarist solution. That is, the best way to avoid the errors of relativism comes from the Platonic way of understanding universal truth, namely, participation in innate ideas. In sum, to avoid the intellectual pride all too easily associated with philosophical speculation, these Franciscan theologians would have insisted that people do best by simply submitting their wills to the universal moral truth brokered by the church's magisterium. The Franciscan/Augustinian solution to moral relativism, then, would not have included rational arguments that yield a reason why people should submit their wills to the church's objective moral teaching.3 Against this background, I take personal solace from a central theme of the pope's theology (which is Augustinian, after all): the need to return to reason as a first step in combating moral relativism. The pope proposes, not naked reason, but reason purified by faith--or clarified by the God who is Logos, who is reason and the Word. A Review for Religious faith that opens people to the living God "liberates reason from its blind spots" so it can be "more fully itself.''4 Implicit in Benedict xvI's critique of relativists--those who contend that judgments about good or bad, right or wrong, are time-and-circumstance matters of personal opinion--is his reliance on Aquinas's philosophical vision of human nature and its transcultural basic needs.5 Since all persons unhampered by ideology, bias, or intellectual sloth can see that these natural needs/goods apply to every human being irrespective of time and culture, they should also agree that these goods ought always be pursued and honored and never denied or suppressed. With these objective human goods in mind, one can set up a series of syllogisms whose conclusions define them as objectively true and universally normative--employ-ing a first premise that has the certitude of self-evident truth and a second premise that cites an observed datum about human nature.6 The following example focuses on the human good of life. First premise: self-evidently, all human beings ought to do all those things and only those things that are really good for them. Second premise: as experience demonstrates, being alive is really good for human beings. Conclusion: every human being ought to seek life and vitality. When we apply this syllogistic argument to other human goods such as wealth, family, procreation, friends, society, play, and the higher goods of wisdom, worship, and contemplation, a set of goods emerges that is not relativist, that is, good for this or that person because of his or her desires or cultural pref-erences, but objectivist and universal, that is, good for all human beings whatever the time and circumstances. Furthermore, since all human beings have a right to this set of real goods, they also have a duty to require legisla-tures and judiciaries to enact and uphold laws forbidding their destruction or suppression. 66.1 2007 Mirkes * Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist Pope Benedict XVI understands why a Dominican and Thomist solution to moral relativism is the way to go. It offers a discussion matrix within which to address the many fellow pilgrims of his who, by dint of being mari-nated in the skepticism and moral relativism of our day, require cogent persuasiveness for submitting to universal moral norms. And so I must be Aristotelian and Thomist in the content of my moral methods, all the while endeav-oring to have the Franciscan spirit shine through the way I do ethics.7 To conclude, then, I need only repeat my opening statement: "Confessions are never easy." But I can honestly add that this tripartite confession has con-tributed mightily to the lived mission of this Christian, religious, and F~:anciscan ethicist. Notes ~ Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, "Relativism: The Central Problem for Faith Today," available through http://www.ewtn.com. See also The Ratzhlger Repo~7 (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1985); Priuciples of Christian Morality (Ignatius Press, German 1975, English 1986); Without Roots (New York: Basic Books, 2006), and Values in a Time of Upheaval (Ignatius Press, 2006). 2 For an historical analysis of Franciscan charisms, I recommend an article by Raffaele Pazzelli TOR on Franciscan spirituality at www.fran-ciscanfriarstor. com/vocations. Mso the commentary at another section of the same website: www.franciscanfriarstor.com/resources. -~In the 13th century, the Dominican Albert the Great produced vast commentaries on Aristotle. In them Albert took full account of the work of the great Aristotelian translator and commentator Averroes (Ibn Rushd), while not neglecting to cgrrect his anti-Christian errors, hnportantly, Mbert began to clarify, why Aristotle criticized Plato. The latter had a dualistic notion of the human person that made a correct theory of the human body impossible. It was, however, only with Albert's pupil Thomas Aquinas that this point was fully developed. Unfortunately, Aquinas's work got confused with Averroism in the list of propositions condemned by the archbishop of Paris in 1277. As a result the Franciscans thought it best to retain their dedication to St. Augustine and to minimize the influ-ence of philosophy on theology. This is evident in the great works of St. Bonaventure, who tended to think of philosophy as a pagan tradition and Review for Religious strove to keep theology free of the errors of that tradition. Later Blessed John Duns Scotus and V~illiam of Ockham made more use of Aristotle, hut still remained skeptical of the power of human reason. Consequently--and tragically--the Franciscan and Dominican traditions were never recon-ciled. Ockham became a Nominalist and finally schismatic, and his distrust of reason to prove the existence of God was basic to Luther's thought and the split in the church brought about in the Protestant Reformation. 4 Pope Benedict XVI, Deus Caritas Est, §29. SMortimer Adler, Adler's Philosophical Dictionary (New York: Touchstone Books, 1995), p. 13. Perhaps the most egregious example of judicial moral relativism is encapsulated in the opinion of Justice Anthony Kennedy in Planned Parenthood v. Casey: "At the heart of liberty, is the right to define one's own concept of existence, of the meaning of the universe, and of the mystery of human life." (' Mortimer Adler, Ten Philosophical Mistakes (New York: Touchstone Books, 1985), p. 126. Y The Franciscan tradition has made great theological contributions to the church: the understanding of the doctrine of Mary's Assumption, St. Bonaventure's reflection of the Trinity. in creation, remarkable advances in natural science in the 14th and 15th centuries, and influential tracts on spirituality. On the other hand, as regards the theology of the body and virtue theory in ethics, the Dominican Thomas Aquinas has been con-stantly praised as the Common Doctor of the church. Since I work princi-pally in bioethics, I use his contribution and assimilate it to my Franciscan tradition in a harmonious, and not merely eclectic way. I encourage more Franciscans to do research in this field. Franciscan humility, it seems to me, demands as much. 66.1 2007 COLLEEN MARY MALLON Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue To recent experiences frame my reflection on pe in a global world. Recently, as part of a theo-logical update program for our diocese, I spoke on the Spirit and the chui'ch, focusing on themes that emerge from Yves Congar's great work I Believe in the Holy Spirit. Following the presentations, a number of the participants told of having new sources of hope opened up to them. I, too, was struck by the longing of these faith-filled minis-ters to connect to a vital and vibrant hope, to be deeply, ecclesia@ alive in the Spirit, and to share that life with others. There were charisms in that room that, wisely nurtured and supported, could set the diocese ablaze with the Spirit. Clearly, the desert is seeded; with more water, what a riot of flowers there would be. My second experience comes from St. John's University in New York, where I teach the introductory Colleen Mary Mallon OP first presented this essay as a talk on 21 April 2006 at Molloy College's Women of Spirit symposium. She is assistant professor of theology and religious studies at St. John's University; 8000 Utopia Parkway; Jamaica, New York 11439. Review for Religious course in theology. Early in the semester the students discuss Marcus Borg's explication of religious faith. Borg speaks about faith as assensus, intellectual affirmation, fiducia, complete trust, fidelitas, loyalty, and visio, how a person perceives the world from the perspective of faith.~ In each class the difficulty is not faith as trust or loyalty; it is faith as vision. Their vision of faith is stymied by the suffering, the struggle, and the pain that they encounter in the world. At best they hold a cautious hope that God might be at work in it all, but for most of them we live in a thoroughly indifferent universe. The fundamental faith/ hope in a gracious universe is all but nonexistent. These experiences press me to reexamine my own sources and senses of hope. With what theological visio do I see the present moment? How do I bear witness to gospel hope in these times: war in Iraq, worldwide trafficking of women and children, irruption of sectar-ian violence, the ever escalating divide between the have-mores and have-nots, the continuation of white privilege. And, closer to the bone, how do I claim a gospel hope in a church beset by the scandals of abuse and neglect, by clericalism, and by the antipathies of diverse members of the Body of Christ. My search for a response to these questions brought me back into the work and thinking of the French Dominican theologian and ecclesiologist Yves Congar. His experience of intense social, political, and ecclesial upheaval tempered his own sober confidence in the church as the continuing event of Jesus Christ in the world. I believe his perspective brings gospel hope and historical reality into a fertile, albeit tensive, dynamic. He and other French Dominicans contributed in no small way to the refashioning of theology in the 20th century. Their pertinence to wise theological vision in a global world is not to be overlooked. Using a feminist methodology which asserts that 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue "God is be discovered in human experience," let us look at the hungers and obstacles that we face at this time both as individuals and as members of a diverse and complex Christian tradition.2 Seeking what the Divine Presence desires of us at this time is, I believe, the very stuff of engaged discipleship. Discerning how contradictions and struggles mark our ecclesial experiences calls for both vir-rue and skill. I propose that the virtue is hope and that the skills include practices and behaviors that witness to our hope and even expand the horizon of our own gospel faith. If we listen carefully to what lies beneath our experiences so as to attend to the Mystery--infinitely beyond and yet intimately present to our present--we may encounter, even in "the incomplete" and "the lack," a power and a grace worthy of our freedom. I want to sketch a little more thoroughly thesigns of these global times and then turn to Yves Congar for his theological vision, for how it may inspire hope in the church today. The Signs of These Global Times There is no lack of scholarly analysis of globalization and the religious questions that emerge from the unprec-edented movement of people, ideas, and commodities.3 I want to look at the challenges that living in "glocal" presents.4 The anthropologist Roland Robertson uses the term "glocal" for the juncture where the global and local meet.5 Our contemporary experience of this global-local situation is a significant historical factor in our lives today. This is where we discern signs of the times and make decisions as disciples of Jesus. The theologian David Tracy is famous for the claim that we live in an age that cannot name itself.6 Our global-human existence contains such conflicting world-views that no one way, no single story, can hold us as a human family. Moreover, the very stories that perceive Review for Religious individuals and communities in significant patterns have become mobile. Peoples once geographically distinct are now mixing, interacting, and living in patterns that may be completely foreign to their nextdoor neighbor. Sociologists and anthropologists tell us that we, as global residents, are experiencing "flows" of people, resources, and information in ways never before experienced on the planet.7 Dual factors, media and migration, cause the global experience of compression and expansion? We experience global compression whenever we become aware of the nar-rowed space between once distant geographic entities. Exotic strangers now live close to each other in global cities that have drawn peoples together for a host of different reasons: as tourists, as migrant workers, as refugees, as executive elites. Globalization is reshaping our economic, political, and cultural worlds, and this brings a variety of ways of perceiving and evaluating the production of today's tech-nologically sophisticated societies.9 The flow of the classic Enlightenment notions of "democracy," "freedom," and "sovereignty" into new global spaces stirs in them new instances of these Western ideas. What would "democ-racy" look like for women'in a predominantly Shiite Iraq? What does the "sovereignty" of a Palestinian state, led by a newly elected Hamas government, mean for the established national states of the world? In truth, there is no longer one kind of modernity; many modernities are competing around the globe.~° These observations point to the growing tension between the global and the local which Roland Robertson describes as the "contemporary manifestation of the universal-particular dilemma.''~1 We 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue live in a world where we truly grasp universals (such as freedom, peace, prosperity) only in particular instances. And there seems to be no end of particulars; we keep discovering uniqueness, singularities, and individualities. We have come to accept, in a sense, one universal: that there are limitless particularities.~2 As Christians we recognize something of this dilemma in the wide range of our ecclesial experiences: the rise of local, base communities of gospel reflection, the renewed focus on particular denominational identities (what does it mean to be a Catholic college or university or hospital?), young people's search for their Christian identity, the rise of religious fundamentalism. Even the concerns regarding the proper role of local episcopal conferences expresses this global-local tension. The question of subsidiarity and collegiality is a much different question today than it was forty years ago at Vatican II. The experience of great diversity raises new questions about the "taken-for-grantedness" of the underlying unity of humanity. Various interpretative frameworks and femi-nist, postcolonial, and postmodern sensibilities foster a new global consciousness of "the other" and "difference." Indigenous stories, newly valorized, emerge on the global scene and inspire local resistance to ideas from outside; these "new primordialisms," freshly reshaped and refash-ioned cultural identities, whet deep appetites for mean-ing and consequence that seemingly transcend, for some people, their own existence.~3 Suicide bombers testify in ways we never expected to the power of meaning in human lives. Disconnected in their storied worlds from wider significance, people become anxious, aggravated, even deadly. New claims for authoritative traditions raise all sorts of questions about identity and symbols and whether our belonging to a particular group prohibits other kinds of Review for Religious belonging. It is in these particularisms that we often expe-rience the tensions of our ecclesial life. Can I be a Catholic and a Democrat? Can I be a feminist and "pro-life"? Like the world we are inescapably a part of, our ecclesial iden-tifies feel the pressure of the global-local predicament and challenges to past certitudes. As these new horizons open, our shared understandings of the gospel cross over into disputed spaces of lived experiences. Within those spaces there appears to be diminishing tolerance among us. Our particular community niche imposes limits on both our imaginations and our practices of tolerance. Many within the church find it increasingly difficult to engage in civil conversations across the wide diversity of perspectives. As the theologian Joseph Komonchak noted in an address to the Catholic Common Ground Initiative, "to judge from a few Internet discussions., many Catholics could learn a thing or two about elementary courtesy, about how to listen and how to speak, about give and take.''14 What hope can we have for a truly "catholic" future when our practice of dialogue mirrors the enclave mentality of our global world? Yves Congar's Incarnational Approach What might a thoroughly 20th-century, white, European, friar-preacher and theologian offer in support of hope in these times? Congar's incarnational, historical approach to theology certainly contributed to the theol-ogy in his day. Early in his theological vocation, Congar understood that he was called to serve the unity of a pain-fully divided Christian community.is Within this call grew his conviction that the dominant mode of doing theology was unnecessarily abstract and all too disconnected from the lives of ordinary people.16 His approach to theology developed from his fraternal relationships with Marie Dominic Chenu and Henri Ma]'ie Feret. Living and 66.1 2007 Mallon * Reclaiming Hope, Recovetqng Dialogue teaching at the French Dominican studium Le SaulchoiT; these three Dominicans plotted the demise of what they called "baroque theology." Congar recalls a particular day when they conceived of a research project on the history of theology. One day, chatting at the entrance of the old Saulchoi,; we found ourselves in profound accord--at once intel-lectual, vital, and apostolic--on the idea of undertaking a "liquidation of baroque theology." This was a moment of intense and total spiritual union . It was not a question of producing something negative: the rejections were only the reverse of aspects that were more positive. One day the balance will be drawn up, but already the positive quality can be sensed. What would a little later be called "ressourcement" was then at the heart of our efforts. It was not a matter either of mechanically replac-ing some theses by other theses or creating a "revolu-tion" but of appealing, as P4guy says, from one tradition less profound to another more profound.~7 This historical approach, learned at Le Saulchoh" and prac-ticed throughout his life, allowed Congar to develop a theology that was more deeply rooted in revelation and at the same time open to the pressing questions of the 20th century.~s It is Congar's approach to revelation that I believe is a critical point of departure. Many theologians regard Congar as the foremost expert on the Christian tradition, and anyone engaged in a theology of tradition cannot pro-ceed without Congar. Some contemporary scholars have noted that, while Congar's view of tradition is stunningly comprehensive, it lacks a necessary attention to the way in which meaning and power are inexorably intertwined. One theologian calls Congar's approach highly idealistic.~9 I have wrestled with this critique because, in some sense, it is a legitimate one. Clearly, Congar missed the post-modern critique of power/knowledge, and his very small Review for Religious reflections on women in relation to ministry and God-language betray his incomplete grasp of feminist concerns and questions.2° I do believe, however, that Congar's intu-ition concerning revelation and history is still significant because it is a profoundly catholic intuition. By this I mean that part of Congar's genius is his confi-dence in the fertile ground found at the intersection of the gospel and the ultimate concerns of people. As I read his theological project, I believe that the starting point of the-ology for Congar is the God-human relationship. Only in and through this relation-ship is knowledge of God possible: a relationship initiated and realized in history, in specific bodies, within unique and diverse human cultures. To make the God-human relation-ship the starting point ointp theologyfor Congar is the ,;, !GOd h :r an Telationship. of theology is to refuse to dissolve the tension between transcendence and immanence; it is, in fact, to claim that tension is integral to our graced existence in this world, in these bodies, at this time in history. I believe that this is a remarkable source of hope for us today. The mind-numb-ing, spirit-quenching materialism of much of our world has laid us low. Our own mystery as beings-made-for-love-and- truth is threatened by the pervasive consumerism that warps our sense of what it means to be human and happy. Our wishes are marketed to us as needs, things we lack are represented to us as inalienable rights, our unwise choices are blindly considered joys of freedom. The God-human Relationship To make the God-human relationship the starting point of our reflection is to reclaim both history and mys- 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue tery, and to do so in a way that is not naively romantic nor overconfident either, overreaching our finitude as crea-tures. If we allow materialism to flatten our perceptions, we lose the .meanings and values that animate our worlds of sight and sound, the very worlds through which the Divine Life communicates. In the words of Congar, "the regenerative power that will finally operate is already at work in our world, transiently, precariously, fragmentarily, and generally unperceived.''2~ This power is nothing less than the life of God poured out so that all may have life in its fullness (Jn 10:10). The "good news" manifest in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus makes explicit this divine intention for all creation, overcoming every possible alienation, division, obstacle, and separation. For Congar, this is the heart of the incarnation. God's involvement with creation is utterly personal and pro-foundly existential. "God is not the 'eternal celibate of the centuries,' but love and goodness," who creates beings "animate[d] . . . with a movement and., a desire that is an echo in them of [God's] own desire . . . revealed to us as [God's] spirit.''22 48 The Gift and Task of Discipleship For Congar, we cannot speak properly of the human outside the graced relationship that has called all creation into existence for the divine purposefulness that is agapic love. To be human is to have as gift what grace alone brings to completion.23 For Christians, the deepest, truest realization of the project called "humanity" is in receiving the embrace of a Trinity-imbued life; nothing less than the Word and the Spirit continue to effect the fulfillment of "all things in God.''24 And this fulfillment is not some-thing abstract or ethereal. "The Spirit makes it possible for us to know, recognize, and experience Christ. This is not simply a doctrinal statement. It is an existential reality Review for Religious which comes from a gift and involves us in our lives.''2s Our lives, lived Godward, immerse us in the Christian mystery that is simultaneously a gift received and a task entrusted. For Congar, the gift character of Christian life lies in Jesus' mystery becoming our mystery.-'6 Our immer-sion into Christ makes us new creation, or, as Joseph Komonchak says, "Faith discloses a new world of great depth and breadth and a new self within it.''27 In a global world where the media and the Internet hawk lifescripts to eager, vulnerable consumers, we must not lose sight of the liberating gift disclosed in Jesus; we must never forget Jesus' attractiveT~ess. Through his life, death, and resurrection, we encounter the agapic love that alone is worthy of our freedom. Moreover, we touch upon what Gustavo Gutidrrez has called the first step of all theo-logical reflection: adoration.28 The gift character of our discipleship opens us to God's utterly gratuitous love for all creation. Our only adequate response is the searingly silent gratitude of the mystic heart. To be found by this love is to find ourselves in a new relationship with all of reality, and to allow it to govern our existence both individually and communally, as both mystery and history. The gift given in revelation and received in our very being discloses to us the potential within all creation. We can only know a small part of this all-surpassing gift, but the task entrusted to us, to realize the potential of our graced existence, is of utmost importance for humanity. Our global-local world teaches us that particularity counts, that only in the bodies and histories and cultures of actual, unique persons can the transformation of the whole happen. The gift inspires the task. The gift of God's agapic love points and directs us towards the places where mercy, peace, justice, and reconciliation ache to be realized. Our 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue hope does not lie in some perfect world without the great risks that our freedom in history poses. Our hope lies in our unflinching reliance on the gift of the Spirit as we humbly and confidently put our freedom at the service of in some perfect wqrld without the great risks our freedom in history po eS.- the Love that has called us into existence. We recognize today, more than any other time, just how difficult that is. Our freedoms are conditioned by diverse worlds of meaning, some of which do not easily or comfortably coexist. We acknowledge an exasperating pluralism: global technologies that isolate just as much as they bridge. What ways of being disciples might help our hope and deepen Love's grasp, of our lives? Can diverse Christian reflections on the meaning of Jesus speak to each other? Can we practice curiosity and abstain from obstinate judgments? To imagine our discipleship as gift and task in a global world demands, I believe, a new asceticism that curbs our penchant to overindulge in communities of like-mindedness, that calls us to be different from nar-rowly framed groups around us, that calls us to the hard work of dialogical communion, expressed in new practices of ecclesial hospitality. The Task of Dialogical Communion There are behaviors and skills that can show widely that "the regenerating power that will finally operate is already at work in our world." There are disciplines that, if embraced, can witness to human life as dialogical communion. The diversity of the cosmos is authored and authorized by the Source of all life, in whose Mystery Review for Religious diversity poses no threat to unity. In the divine economy, unity stimulates diversity. The gift inspires the task. Dialogical communion challenges us to attend to how the Spirit continues to communicate God's life in and through our historical unity, a unity that is more than mere uniformity. Emerging from enclave mentalities into the liminal spaces of dialogue is, indeed, risky, business. Transgressing the boundaries of worlds of shared commitments and understandings takes great courage, and not only because of the encounter with difference. In a recent talk at St. John's University, Gerry Adams, leader of the Sein Fein party, spoke of the Irish Peace Process. The single most important element of the peace process, according to Adams, is dialogue: getting people to step out of their hard-fought divisions and to speak to each other. But Adams insists that the hardest dialogue is not with the perceived enemy; it is with your own group. Transgressing the boundaries of our habitation disturbs our communi-ties of like-mindedness. We put our identity at risk; our loyalties may be questioned; we may seem to have lost our regard for once-shared values and visions; we may be accused of undermining the very distinctiveness of our group. And we may become agents of change: midwives to the gestating life of redeemed humanity. If our diversity is no mistake, if our global-human condition confronts us, not only with challenges, but with the deep truth that our differences and particularities are the only way we have to express our essential humanity, then we will have to practice a new ldnd of countercultur-alism. When we become aware that the very diversity that delights God troubles and disturbs us, we have stepped into a moment ripe for conversion. I have the privilege of being a board member of the Parable Conference, an organization whose purpose is to make space for dialogue 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue Embracing the task Of_ dialogical commun_ion mopes us from false impressions and prejudgment~ to respect and curiosity. among all the branches of the Dominican family in the United States. No other entity for that dialogue exists in the United States. I remember the moment when I saw how mistaken my perceptions of the Dominican laity were. My prejudgment was an obstacle mercifully revealed and dispelled by new relationships with women and men whose embrace of the Dominican charism is truly inspiring. The Parable Conference struggles to keep the dia-logue alive among U.S. Dominicans; it is not an easy task. Ideology, apathy, and enmity challenge our attempts to be in authentic communion across the wide scope of the Dominican .family. Yet the very existence of this group is a good example of the order's preaching charism. Without the witness of an actual, historical community struggling to hold and engage the truths emerging from diverse God experiences, our words are empty and ~ our witness a mere shadow of what it could be. Embracing the task of dia-logical communion moves us from false impressions and prejudgments to respect and curiosity. In a contentiously divided global world, the practice of dialogical commu-nion bears witness every time we risk the hospitable effort to "make space" for each other. In his book Exc&sion and Embrace, the Lutheran theo-logian Miroslav Volf writes, "The will to give ourselves to others and 'welcome them,' to readjust our identities to make space for them, is prior to any judgment., except that of identifying them in their humanity.''29 When I attended Good Friday services last April, I observed a Review for Religious couple in the pew ahead of me struggle to "make space." It was an odd scene, because clearly there was enough space for everyone in the pew. For some reason, however, the woman-already-seated would not move all the way over; when another couple arrived, they had to practically sit on each other. I waited, thinking she would see the problem and adjust, move over just a bit more. No. She looked, made a fussy little head movement, and remained; eventually the intruding couple sat elsewhere. Then she moved over! Now there was plenty of space, and a few minutes later two others filled the pew. Why is it so hard to make space? Why is hospitality so difficult at times? I do not pretend to have a simple answer. I only know that there is a simple answer, and that this incident serves as a parable about the demands of dialogical communion. We need to secure a place where dialogue can happen. We have to cultivate the skills and disciplines that allow for the dignified existence of oth-ers. Without this space we risk the loss of real encounter and the grace it may hold for us. We lose an opportunity to witness to an authentic faith-filled visit, a gospel hope worthy of our fragile freedom. Congar reminds us that theology is not a deadly repetition of neatly worked out dogmatic statements. Disconnected from the existential reality of "someone's living thought," theology "will not bear its fruit.''3° We stand in danger, today, of losing that precious space where we respectfully, thoughtfully, and critically engage the "living thought" of someone else. Dialogical communion might be thought of as the inten-tional practice of hospitality towards those with whom we may not fully agree, or simply do not understand. People securing space for the complex and contrasting truths that emerge from deep diversities are signs of these times: "deep diversity" calls for an equally deep curiosity.3! 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue If our starting point remains the God-human rela-tionship, then we will be convinced that Mystery touches us only in history. The truth that embraces us in each encounter with the God of life is one, but its manifesta-tions are multiple. Indeed, genuine engagement of the God-human relationship continues to yield wise and chal-lenging expressions of Christian discipleship: the irrup-tion of the poor into history and the holistic vision of the reign of God as presented in theologies of libera-tion, the gospel reflection of women bringing forth new constructive theologies and the prophetic link with eco-logical consciousness and responsibility, the theologies of human rights that seek out space where diverse religions may work together for peace and the dignity of human life, and the emerging reflection on the other face of rac-ism, namely, white privilege and continuing exclusion of people of color. These truths of discipleship call us to examine anew the precious gift of our graced and historically precarious human existence. They call for a deeper asceticism and humility; they inspire a wondrous reverence for God and a curiosity about the things of God. They invite us to sus-pend our judgments so as to make space for each other and, in the very act of "maki~g space," encounter the God, who does more in us and with us than we can ask or imag-ine (Ep 3:20). "Making space" may well be the greatest and most fruitful spiritual discipline we can practice as a global church so as to be genuinely attentive to the Spirit in a world newly awakened to its divinely conceived diversity. Hope lies in our courageous and sober confidence in the Spirit's power to bring all that is God's to fullness. In the spaces where fragile human hearts meet the Love and Truth that alone overcomes all alienation, there is the hope for a different kind of history, a different kind of humanity. The gift inspires the task. Shall we take up the task? Review for Religious Notes ~ Marcus Borg, "Faith: The \a, ray of the Heart," in The Heart of Christianity: Rediscovering a Life of Faith (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 2004), pp. 25-42. 2 Mary Catherine Hilkert, "Tradition and Experience," in Freeing Theology: The Essentials of Theology in Feminist Perspective, ed. Catherine Mowry LaCugna (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993), p. 60. 3 For an overview of the many facets of the phenomenon of glo-balization, see The Globalization Reader; ed. Frank J. Lechner and John Boli (Maiden, Mass.: Blackwell, 2000), and Patrick O'Meara, Howard D. Mehlinger, and Matthew Krain, eds., Globalization and the Challenges of a New Centmy: A Reader (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2000). 4 See Robert J. Schreiter, The New Catholicity: Theology between the Global and the Local (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1997). s Roland Robertson, "Glocalization: Time-Space and Homogeneity- Heterogeneity," in Global Mode, v,ities, ed. Scott Lash and Roland Robertson (London: SAGE, 1995). ~ David Tracy, On Naming the Present (New York: Orbis Books, 1994), p. 3. 7 See in particular Arjun Appadarai's seminal essay "Disjuncture and Difference in the Global Cultural Economy," in Mode~vtity at Large: Cultural Dimensions of Globalization (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1996), pp. 27-47. s See in particular Robert Schreiter, "Globalization and the Contexts of Theology," in his New Catboliciq, pp. 1-27. 9 See Saskia Sassen, Globalization and Its Discontents: Essays on the New Mobiliq of People and Money (New York: New Press, 1998). ~0 Mike Featherstone, Undoing Culture: Globalization, Postmode~ism, and Identity (London: SAGE Publications, 1995). ~ Roland Robertson, Globalization: Social Theory and Global Culture (London: SAGE Publications, 1992), p. 100. 1, As Roland Robertson expresses it, "there is virtually no limit to particularity, to uniqueness, to difference, to otherness." Robertson, Globalization, p. 102. ~3 See in particular Benedict Anderson, hnagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationali.~n (London: Verso, 1991). ~4 Joseph Komonchak, "Is Christ Divided? Dealing with Diversity and Disagreement," Origins 33 (9): 140-147. ~ In a number of interviews, Congar traced his lifelong devotion to the unity the Christian churches to a siugular moment of contemplation. "It was while meditating upon the seventeenth chapter of St. John's Gospel 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue that I clearly recognized my vocation to work for the unity of all who believe in Jesus Christ." Yves Congar, Dialogue between Christians: Catholic Contributions to Ecumenism, trans. Philip Loretz SJ (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1966), p. 3. ~'~ "We are too prone to be satisfied with a dogma in itself, which has not to be worked out but is all laid down in the catechism or the theologi-cal manuals. We retail it, we are purveyors of orthodox theology, and that is all. We are in the process of finding that a dogma must be someone's dogma or someone's living thought, otherwise it will not bear its fruit." Yves Congar, Priest and Layman (London: Darton, Longman, & Todd, 1967), p. 209. ~7 Yves Congar, "The Brother I Have Known," The Thomist, 49 (4): 495-503. 1~ For an excellent essay on Congar's life as a theologian, see Etienne Fouilloux, "Friar Yves, Cardinal Congar, Dominican: History of a Theologian," U.S. Catholic Historian 17 (2). ~9 Vincent Miller, "History. of Geography? Gadamer, Foucault, and Theologies of Tradition," in Theology and the New Histories, ed. Gary. Macy (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 1999), pp. 56-85. 20 Congar, however, was not in any sense na'ive with regard to abuses of power, particularly in his ongoing concern for a dialogical church. "In polemics., or in any form of controversy devoid of dialogue, I interpose my own personal power, or rather that of a social formation whose views I am defending, such as a nation, a church, a culture, a social group or class, or a nexus of collective interests. Certain questions, such as that of colonialism in its most absolute form, might be approached from this point of view." Congar, Dialogue between Christians, p. 55. :~ Yves Congar, Lay People in the Church, trans. Donald Atwater (~'Vestminster, Maryland: Newman Press, 1957), p. 86. 22 Yves Congar, 1 Believe in the Holy Spirit, Vol. 2, He Is Lord and Giver of Life, trans. David Smith (New York: Seabury Press, 1983), p. 67. ~3 Yves Congar, This CT;urch That I Love, trans. Lucien Delafuente (Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, 1969). 24 Congar, I Believe, vol. 2, p. 12. 's Congar, I Believe, vol. 2, p. 37. z6 Congar, Lay People, p. 57. 27 Komonchak, "Is Christ Divided?" p. 76. :s The "adoration of God and the doing of God's will are necessary. conditions for thinking about God." Gustavo Guti~rrez, The T~vah Shall Set You Free: Conf!'ontations, trans. MatthewJ. O'Connell (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 1990), p. 55. Review for Religious 2,; Miroslav Volf, Exclusion and Emb~wce: A Theological Exploration of Identity, Otberness, and Reconciliation (Nashville: Abingdon, 1996), p. 29. 30 Congar, Priest and Layman, p. 209. 3~ See Charles Taylor's discussion of "deep diversity" in "Shared and Divergent Values," in his Reconciling the Solitudes: Essays on Canadian Federalism and Nationalism (Montreal/Kingston: McGill-Queen's University Press, 1993), pp. 155-186. Personal Reflection/Group Discussion In today's church do I find in myself a growing inability to listen and to dialogue with others about my own beliefs and values? What can I do to develop a more tolerant attitude in myself and so help others to become more tolerant? Do I understand dialogical cornmunion? What are some of the challenges ! would face with the people with whom I live and work? 66.1 2007 ROSE HOOVER Why Do We Gather? A Journey Together community We live in an age when young adults rarely consider religious life an option for themselves. Are we dinosaurs with primordial behavior pat-terns? Do we know why we come together in religious communities in this day and age--or in any day and age? There are varieties of commu-nity, but in this article I simply want to reflect on religious community's purpose, whether we are talking about community under one roof or community in a broader sense that does not nec-essarily mean living together. Why do we gather together? For example, are we brought together as religious for the pur-pose of a particular task? Do we form commu-nity for thesake of the ministry we do? Many people get together for special endeavors and enjoyments--music groups and sports teams, for example. Some groups even live together, like Rose Hoover RC last wrote for this journal in March-April 1992. Her address is Cenacle Sisters; 505 Northeast 5th Avenue; Gainesville, Florida 32601. Review for Religious the ad hoc assemblages on some reality shows. We too have tasks we desire to accomplish, tasks not only pre-cious to us but valuable for the people of God. We know that good community life can help us in our ministries. But is ministry the reason we come together? Today other people do the same ministries we do, and do them just as well, without being members of religious communi-ties. If religious community is for the purpose of carrying out ministry, and if the ministry no longer necessitates coming together in community, then is our gathering as consecrated religious also unnecessary? What about forming relationships? There was a lot of talk a few years ago about relational communities as distinct from task-ori-ented communities. A quick Internet search shows that concept to be far from dead today. As Christians we are indeed called to be in relationship both with God and with other ~ i."~ W:~t~hou~t~:i')ood "rdationships, ,- iydividuals and communities Christians. Without good relationships, individuals and communities are bound to be lifeless. And so compan-ionship, relationships, belong in consecrated life. In fact, loving presence is necessary in consecrated life. But com-panionship, even deep companionship, can be had in other ways, some of them far easier than religious community. Neither friendship nor c6mpanionship, of course, can be the main purpose of religious community. As Antoine de Saint-Exup~ry writes in l/Vind, Sm~d, and Stars, "Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction." In Christian community, if our primary gaze is on each other rather than on Christ, we are not on the way to true communion. 66.1 2007 Hoover ¯ Why Do We Gather? Religious cOmmunity is no way to flee,the,World; the world walks right-inl Wit,h,us.o Can religious community exist for the purpose of mak-ing the practical details of life more economical or more simple? It certainly can, though it does not always do so. In our university town we see students who live together to save money and make life less burdensome, leaving more time and energy for studies. Religious communi-ties, too, can live simply and economically--and even live gospel poverty. But is this all there is to it? Communities, even small ones, can provide security. People throughout the centuries have banded together for the sake of security. Gated communities thrive today. California lays claim to at least three gated cities--in effect, walled towns: Rolling Hills, Hidden Hills, and Canyon Lake. Probably some peo-pie enter religious life to be safe from the dangers of the "world" (or other dangers they somehow perceive). We know from experi-ence that religious community is no way to flee the world, if for no other reason than that the world walks right in with us. Security, then, cannot be the purpose of coming together as religious. There has to be more to religious community than any of these reasons, more even than all of them together. Parker Palmer, a Quaker, who at the time of writing an article for Desert Call (1987) was part of an intentional community, puzzled over the historical longevity of monasticism, given the difficulties of community life. He concluded that it is because the monks "created a form of community that brings them together not for the purpose of togetherness but to support each other in the rigors of the inward journey.''~ Review for Religious To support each other on the inward journey, the spiritual journey, is indeed rigorous. It has no less a goal than transforming union with Jesus Christ. That, after all, is the Christian call. The road can be rocky, and pitfalls can lie along the path. There can be pain and discourage-ment, but also joy, peace, and love. Moments of grace can astonish, but then there may be long and numbing stretches of boredom. At times we wish to shuffle along complacently, and at other times we are strong against the enemy's wiles. We have glimmers of understanding and then clouds of miserable confusion. The journey is truly rigorous. There is no way to make it alone. Whether we thought about it this way or not, this is the reason we entered religious life. God knew the pur-pose even if we did not--the call to give ourselves wholly to God by following a path of transforming union in love. This path not only blesses us with love and forgiveness, it also demands much of us. It requires prayer. This needs to be said bluntly here because, though for some people prayer is pure joy, for others it is a demand, a rigorous one. And, as for praying together, some find it no bur-den at all, while others are being sorely tested. The need for prayer implies the need to find time for prayer, the courage to carve a quiet niche for it when society--and sometimes religious life as well--would instead reward us for constant activity. How many times have we heard someone say with a hint of pride in her voice, "I haven't had a day off in months"? Or maybe we have even made that boast ourselves. As our life goes on, we have opportunities and duties to learn compassion toward the uncompassionate and to love those who do not love us._We learn to see loveliness in those who appear unlovely, sometimes being surprised at seeing our own kind of goodness in someone we never even liked. We find ourselves acknowledging our own 66.1 2007 Hoover ¯ Why Do We Gather? sinfulness, our helplessness, our inability to understand ourselves or the God who loves us and in whose image we are made. The spiritual journey brings people to a better vision of life--but usually without visions. Along the way we more and more take on the mind of Christ, who emptied himself. We learn not to cling to anything, not to hold anything back. We take one step at a time, without know-ing where the road winds and often without being sure that the next step is the right one. The road through our interior landscape may lack clear markers; misty weather may obscure them and make us forget the presence of God. Formidable though the way may be, it is precisely here that we find our delight. The God who created the universe, who fills the cosmos, who was and is and ever shall be, this God is both our companion and our destina-tion. After beginning on this path, any other way seems dull and senseless, hardly worth the trouble of putting one foot in front of the other. To make the most of this wondrous journey and to smooth its progress, we gather together. We support one another by our words, our prayers, and our presence, and we grant one another the silence and solitude we all need. And, when we become discouraged like Elijah lying under the broom tree, we take for each other the role of the angel who said, "Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you" (1 K 19:7, NRSV). We have to admit, though, that sometimes our sisters and brothers the~nselves can be part of the "burning of the noontide heat, and the burden of the day."-' The com-munity may be the very reason we long to crawl under the broom tree and disappear in sleep. But the burdens and the blessings of the road are intermingled and often indis-tinguishable from one another. What seems like a bur-den may in reality be a blessing, and each blessing tends Review for Religious to bring with it its own weight, imperceptible at times, greatly evident at others. In community, as we accompany each other along the way, as we support each other, we bring ourselves to the mix of people, we give ourselves as gifts. As with ordinary gifts, we do not know if we have chosen the right gift for the right person. We sincerely hope we have, and that we are not bringers of burdens or disappointments. In this we all develop subtle social gifts of giving and receiving, giving benefits shyly and having doubts beneficially, all the while sharing in mystery. What, then, is the role of our ministry? Is the value of ministry lessened if the work we are called to do is not our chief reason for coming together? Not at all. Without the inward journey, our ministry lacks integrity. A reli-gious community with a task--even a noble task--as its primary purpose risks allowing both community and task to become sterile. The apostolate is inseparable from the path of transforming union. Like cotton canvas garden-ing gloves, our ministry, hand in hand with prayerfulness, brings our patient dedication to flower in ways beyond imagining--more .and more the work of Christ. We our-selves are transformed into the compassionate and merci-ful Christ for each other and for the world. Notes ~ Parker Palmer, "The Monastic V~ay to Church Renewal," Desert Call, ¼qnter 1987: 8-9. 2 Elizabeth C. Clephane, "Beneath the Cross of Jesus," 1868. 66.1 2007 ROBERT SCHIELER An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers During Holy Week 2006 three hundred De La Salle Christian Brothers gathered in retreat to discern a future together. Under the banner "An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers," we brothers from three East Coast provinces~ and Toronto, Canada, desire to imagine more of a future than merging our provinces into one. As in other congregations, the reason for con-sidering a shared future is the diminishment and aging in our provinces. In recent years the provinces have spon-sored joint formation programs, retreats, workshops, and council meetings. This gathering helped us become even more familiar with one another and our hopes and dreams. From the beginning we wanted to explore creative approaches to consolidation. We saw the merging of provinces as perhaps an administrative necessity but no guarantee for future viability and vitality. Our goal was to Robert Schieler FSC writes from Christian Brothers Provincialate; P.O. Box 29; Adamstown, Maryland 21710. Review for Religious make our network of ministries more effective. These ways were to include a renewed passion for our life together as brothers in community and for our consecrated life in the following of Jesus. The aim of the communal retreat was to facilitate achieving these goals. In the preceding eighteen months, a planning com-mittee guided local community conversations around the Triduum. Four prayer services with reflection questions were prepared for Trinity Sunday, when communities nor-mally .plan for the year, the first Sunday in Advent, and the first Sunday in Lent. Reflection questions sought to mirror sessions that would take place during the retreat: remembering our icons and dangerous memories; discern-ing who we are today and our potential for tomorrow; and deciding on a direction for a shared future. Being pragmatic people, a good many brothers had reservations about this process and the value of the retreat itself. The retreat began on Wednesday evening with over three hundred brothers processing into our prayer space for an opening prayer service and a motivational presen-tation celebrating five brothers identified as icons from our five provinces. During our days of retreat, we would recall icons from Scripture, our Lasallian heritage, and our brothers. Icons, as windows to the interior, help us get in touch with the deeper forces operative in our lives. An icon can help us transcend the immediacy of our pres-ent life situation. By touching the core of our being, icons stir up an interior movement that allows us to go beyond our immediate landscapes. At the opening prayer service we heard read: We gather tonight to remember, to celebrate, to grieve, and to dream. This is our Lasallian heritage. It is rich, indeed! It is composed of individuals, communities, and ministries that at one time listened to the whispers of a radical spirit, a spirit that opened to us new venues and invited us to launch our boats in uncharted waters so 66.1 2007. Scbieler ¯ An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers as to serve better the children of the poor and working class. We celebrate tonight our Lasallian icons. They are stories, people, events of the original foundational journey of our community as De La Salle Brothers that become like windows breaking open the deepest mean-ing, revealing a prophetic insight, full of memory and hope, about the present. They help us to get in touch with our dangerous memories., our wildest dreams. They connect us to our institute, to our church, and to the mystery of God's kingdom here on earth. Brothers, they do not exist to reassure us. Sometimes these icons will destabilize us and challenge our current views and understandings. If we let them, they may stir up in us the deepest movements and yearnings of the Spirit! Seeing men we have lived with or heard about and recalling how they lived as brothers and what they accom-plished stirred us, prompted reflections, and encouraged conversations about our fraternal life together and the mission for which we consecrated our lives. As the open-ing evening came to a close, brothers retired to their rooms in a "wait and see" frame of mind. Dangerous Memories Under the day's theme of "Remembering where we were and refounding our hope. for the future," we met on Holy Thursday morning as provinces to recall our respec-tive dangerous memories. The theologian Johannes B. Metz saw dangerous memories as: memories in which earlier experiences break through to the center point of our lives and reveal new and dangerous insights for the present. They illuminate for a few moments and with a harsh and steady light the questionable nature of things we have apparently come to terms with, and show up the banality of our supposed "realism." They break through the canon of the prevailing structures of plausibility and have certain subversive features. Such memories are like dangerous Review for Religious and incalculable visitations from the past. They are memories that we have to take into account, memories, as it were, with a future content.: One province, in the activities leading up to the retreat, highlighted as one of its most dangerous memories a 1920s decision that resulted in a quick move from primary to secondary education. In 1926 and 1927 the province withdrew from thirteen elementary schools to staff two new diocesan high schools. While reluctant at the time to leave elementary education, the province would realize from these two schools several hundred vocations during the next four decades. This decision is part of the prov-ince lore and often recalled at fraternal gatherings. On this Holy Thursday morning, however, it was about another dangerous memory that several brothers spoke with pas-sion. This dangerous memory was still very much in the present. It was from the late 1960s and early 1970s. Like many congregations and the church in general, the province was caught up in the euphoria of the Second Vatican Council, but was also beginning to witness the fallout: departures, the drop in vocations, and polariza-tion. Between the start of summer 1969 and the end of summer 1970, the province would lose nearly a hundred brothers, including the provincial and much of the prov-ince's leadership. In the coming decade nearly thirty men would leave to enter the priesthood. The novitiate that had served the province since 1880 closed in summer of 1969. At the same time the renewal and updating of our religious life, the principle of subsidiarity, and personal responsibility versus directives from the top were going forward. So was empowerment of young over those with seniority status. While this province would struggle with fundamental issues of religious life through much of the 1970s, by the end of the decade a new formation program was bringing 66.1 2007 Schieler ¯ An Experience of yesus and His Brothers from our pas that we wanted tocar or ard fewer but excellent candidates. Commitment to its tradi-tional educational ministries remained strong while being open to new and sometimes individual ministries. The mental health of the brothers would be honestly faced and addressed. After considerable neglect, personal and communal prayer returned. The morning session was both invigorating and inspir-ing. Table conversation at lunch was animated as other brothers were proposed as icons and further dangerous memories shared. Following lunch and prompted by a presentation on passing with Jesus from death to life and by a video on our roots, we reflected on the values from our past that we wanted to cel-ebrate and carry forward into the future. These included accomplishing our educational mission as a community that can adapt and innovate, the diversity of our educational delivery sys-tems, our formation as educators with a Christocentric spirituality, and our recent establishment of national for-mation programs to share our charism with our lay col-leagues. As Thursday afternoon gave way to evening and din-ner, the brothers seemed to accept that we were on a retreat, not at an assembly. Conversations were more hope-filled, and the feeling now being expressed was "Yes, it is good to be together." This was evidenced by the number of brothers coming.before the Blessed Sacrament in prayer and silence throughout the evening. Finding a seat in chapel for adoration on Holy Thursday had not been difficult for a long time! Review for Religious Three Hundred HistoriesmOne Voice, One Spirit While on Wednesday evening and Holy Thursday we celebrated and remembered those brothers who shaped us and our provinces, on Good Friday we would behold the men we are today. How are we different from those we had honored and recognized? What had we lost? What do we take to the cross? Whom do we take down from the cross? What do we bury? To stimulate our reflection we viewed the film Romero, suffering servant in our time, and listened to a presentation on the crucifixion of Jesus, the Suffering Servant for all time. These enriched our table conversations later, but something else in that afternoon proved transformative. The image of three hundred brothers one by one ven-erating the crucified Christ on Good Friday afternoon was a powerful one. We witnessed three hundred histories that have faithfully lived their initial "yes" given to God. There was much gray, but the talent and energy in that long gray line was palpable. One brother reflecting on the experience wrote: "I found that long line of brothers inspiring. Each of us brought our stories to that moment, and I knew many of the men and their talents, the ~ailures they and I faced, the challenges they and I met, the stu-dents they and I inspired, the communities we had lifted up, and our struggles with various demons. Some were my teachers; others were my mentors in community. There were international, national, and district leaders. Other brothers were and are colleagues and confreres. Yet all our various paths pointed us in the same right direction that afternoon. All of us bowed before the same cross, individually and collectively, confessing our belief in Jesus our Savior. What richer image could we have of our vow formula than that we brothers accomplish our educational mission not as individuals but 'together and by associa-tion' with one another?''3 66.1 2007 Scbieler ¯ An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers This kind of change stimulates resistance because it challenges peopl e's habits. Holy Saturday Holy Saturday morning began with a presentation that many brothers found realistic while others found challenging and some even disturbing or out of sync with the spirit of the retreat. That presentation revealed the harsh demographic realities that nearly sixty percent of the membership is over sixty-five years of age with only twelve of the 420 brothers in the three provinces and del-egation under the age of forty. It spoke of the hope lost after the heady days of the council. It spoke of halfhearted efforts at amalgamation in the 1990s and the first cou-ple of years in this new ~ century. It spoke of the ~' difficulties and chal- !enges of what Heifetz . and Linsky call "adap-tive change" versus "technical change"; change at the core of persons or organizations as opposed to the simple rear-ranging of things.4 This kind of change stimulates resis-tance because it challenges people's habits, beliefs, and cultures. The presentation offered elements of hope and a plan for the future, but for some it stood in contrast to the good feelings generated from the storytelling and shar-ing of experiences from our various provinces. Perhaps we were experiencing the stone being placed at the entrance to the tomb. There was a period of questioning, self-doubt, and waiting. What direction would the retreat now take? We had reached a critical moment, and it took all the facilitators' skills to maintain a retreat atmosphere and not slip into a workshop or assembly one. We pre-pared the brothers to opt for the direction they preferred. Review for Religious The answer would come in the afternoon, after the "three hundred stories" had processed in once more. Five possible directions for a shared future were iden-tified, including remaining as separate provinces or unit-ing in a totally new structure. The five possibilities were posted at the front of the hall, and each brother was given a colored dot to place next to his choice. Again three hun-dred men walked up quietly and indicated their choice. At the end, it was overwhelmingly agreed: to create one province with new structures for the vitality of commu-nities and ministries of the three present provinces and delegation. The key phrase was "new structures." In a letter he sent to the brothers at the retreat, our superior general wrote: Our times demand not only that we change current structures, as if by doing only this we could revitalize ourselves. It is not about simply creating larger prov-inces that are the same as those of the past. We have to reinvent what it is we understand by the term "prov-ince," and create new structures that will allow us to be rnore visible and more effective in the way we manage and accompany Lasallian association throughout the world,s The stone in front of the tomb was being removed along with self-doubt and waiting. We embraced the possible. It is always Holy Saturday whenever people push back the creeping boundaries of the world's fear, making room for irrepressible hope; where people live the long darkness of original sin while believing in the possibil-ity of the deeper light; where people discover the touch of an invincible spring on the bare branches of their winter lives.6 Easter Vigil The Easter Vigil was a most joyous occasion. All three hundred brothers had donned their new sport shirts with one of our familiar congregation logos. In his sermon the 66.1 2007 Scbieler ¯ An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers 72 celebrant for the vigil beautifully summarized the previous several days by recounting a conversation he had earlier in the day with a young man staying at the same resort. I walked by. "Hi," I said. "'Sup. You one of Jesus' brothers?" I knew what he meant because I live in the 'hood. "Sorry?" "You one of Jesus' brothers? I saw the sign: 'Jesus and His Brothers.'" "Yeah, yeah, you are too!" Never miss a catechetical moment. "So you pastors or something?" "No, mostly teachers-Christian Brothers." "That's nice," he said. "I've been watching

Issue 54.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1995. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ¯ Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for. religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Adv#ory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP 'Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read J6an.n Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and contemporary Living MAY-JUN~ 1995 * VOLUME54 * NUMBER3 contents 326 339 353 extending horizons Multiculturalism, Internationality, and Religious Life Gerald A. Arbuckle SM presents an understanding of multiculturalism and its lived difficulties by means of case studies. Accompanying New-Age People A. Paul Dominic SJ assesses and evaluates his experience of dealing with the ideals and quest~ of the New Age movement. Lithuania: A Return to My Ancestral Home Barbara Valuckas SSND relates her experience of three, visits to Lithuania and working with its peoples, women religious, and church catechists. 364 371 383 focusing community Community Today--Idol? Icon? Gift? Elizabeth V. Roach MM compares some of the secular criteria for community living with the gospel call to be a community of paschal living. Called to Community Dennis J. Billy CSSR presents the Trinitarian and Christological bases for life in community and identifies ten common difficulties in living the call to community. Public and Private: Some Confusion in Community Patricia Chaffee OP reviews some of the tensions and their relief in the public and private interfaces of religious community life. 389 399 rooting religious IJfe Apostolic Congregations' Monastic Roots John P. Auther_SJ suggests ways in which religious life becomes more viable in contemporary life by taking its monastic roots seriously. Women Religious: Widows of the Church, Women of Hope Anna Marie Kane SSJ draws out some comparisons of widows in the early church and women religious today. 322 Re~ie~ for Religious 4O3 A Meditation on Living the Vows Joel Giallanza CSC probes a familiar Gospel verse for its implications in living a life of celibate charity, obedience, and poverty. 410 418 424 433 growing spirituaJJy Freedom to Be God's Eric Kahn OFM suggests a style of retreat that is more fitting for the Franciscan tradition. Coming Home: The Journey Within Janet Malone CND describes various aspects of our lifelong process of moving inward to the ground of our being where God dwells in us. I Cast for Comfort GeorgeJ. Auger CSV reflects on how faith deepens in darkness and love grows in desire. Feeling and Pain and Prayer Margaret Bullitt-Jonas sketches four ways of prayer to deepen our intimacy with God and our capacity for full responsiveness to pain and io'y and being alive. 447 454 embracing heritage Heart of the Human John R. Welsh SJ explores the rich symbol of the Heart of Christ for our appreciation of the incarnation and of our own relationship to God. Enclosure: Sacramental Sign Jean Shively OSC presents her experience andunderstanding of a spirituality of enclosure as a positive and essential element of the contemplative lifestyle. 324 462 departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: The Concluding Message of the 1994 Synod on Consecrated Life 467 Book Reviews May-.l~une 199.q 323 many Christians the month of May evokes memories of processions and crownings and songs in honor of Mary, Mother of God. In a similar way the month of June recalls the novenas and hymns and vigils devoted to the heart of Jesus. Devotions, once such a bright part of our pre-Vatican II faith lives, now seem like faded fabrics preserved under some obscure museum's glass showcase. Although nostal-gia may too readily find its place, we need to acknowl-edge how devotions in a pre-Vatican II church~ fired up the faith lives of many parish communities and the mis-sionary zeal .of'many women and men. On the other hand, devotions, with their vernacular prayers and singable hymns, sometimes overshadowed even feast-day Masses in people's affection. In fact, the Mass itself often became the time and place for people's devotional practices while the priest quietly busied himself with the ~Latin prayers and formal ritual of the Mass. Perhaps the greatest gift of the liturgical renewal of Vatican II was the clarity brought to the central place of liturgy, both the Eucharist and the Liturgy of the Hours. Devotions, as a result, were given the chance to take a more modestly proportioned place in our spiritual lives, sometimes even to die after years of devout usefulness. But at the same time that the Vatican II renewal was cre-ating a spiritual renewal of prayer practices in correct pro-portion, a major shift in human interaction was taking 324 Review for Religious place in the Western world and having undue influence upon some other nations. New cultural patterns of lifestyle, fragmen-tations of family.living and of many a neighborhood, the subur-bia driving (not walking) distances between home and church, and the easy attractions of TV and home video entertainment every night of the week are among the reasons why the practice of devotions fell by the wayside. The majority of Catholics today have no experience of such devotional practices. The case is lit-tle different in the present-day worship and prayer lives of many men and women religious. Devotions need once again to find their place in faith lives that too often merit the descriptive terms "thin" or "desiccated." There is no doubt that devotions bring color to our somewhat monochrome lives of worship. Devotions rouse some passion in a faith lived often too listlessly, even in Eucharists attended rou-tinely. Yet devotions from the'past need more than just a dusting off. They need to be rethought and reexpressed for our context and time. Even more importantly, perhaps, devotions need to be refounded on the essential of devotion itself. Devotion in the Christian-theological tradition is defined as "an ease in finding God." To say that "here we have a man or woman of devotion" is to point to someone who has an evident and easy relationship with God. To be a person of devotion is to be specially graced by God. Praying for devotion in our spiritual lives is essential for a healthy existence. Even our ministries receive special effectiveness from being permeated with devotion. Devotions and devotion are related, something like the chicken and the egg. If we are people of devotion, we will find that our faith naturally tends to express itself in prayers to Jesus and to Mary and the saints, in vigils, in processions and pilgrimages, and in other such external forms. Devotions in their proper propor-tion feed and strengthen the Christian lives of all the faithful. Devotions cannot be absent from our faith expression without the loss of devotion itself., ~ Perhaps the time has come for all of us to reassess our need for devotions as the fuel and lifesource for the devoted lives we Christians desire to live. David L. Fleming SJ May-June 1995 325 GERALD A. ARBUCKLE Multiculturalism, Internationality, and Religious Life The religious community "is an evangelizer, but she begins by being evangelized herself." --Pope Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi § 15 The world is tragically divided by ideological conflicts, pathological forms of nationalism, racial violence, ethnic cleansing programs, and intercultural tensions. It almost destroyed itself through interracial conflict during this century. We who gasped at Hitler's genocide policies live in a world where ecocide, that is, the genocide of virtually all living species of earth, is a real possibility because cul-tures still rarely live side-by-side with respect and justice) It is a world "groaning in travail" (Rm 8:22). Inasmuch as prophetic witness is at the heart of reli-gious life, the church rightly expects religious communi-ties to be models of intercultural understanding and action. If we judge from the constitutions and mission statements of many congregations, there is a growing theoretical awareness of this need. Thus, there are expressions like these: "We are committed to living internationality in a divided world"; "Let us inculturate the gospel in our own communities first by being authentically multicultural-ist"; "We are called to respect the rights of people to their Gerald A. Arbuckle SlVl wrote "Merging Provinces" for our May-June 1994 issue. He may be addressed at Refounding and Pastoral Develgpment Unit; 1 Mary Street; Hunters Hill; Sydney, N.S.W. 2110; Australia. 326 Review for Religious culture; this applies also to people of different cultures within our congregation"; "We commit ourselves to foster communities in which representatives of several ethnic groups live together in a spirit of dialogue, justice, and charity." But are communities in fact living according to these statements, or are the words just rhetoric and escapes into fantasy? The Future of Religious Orders Study in the United States (FORUS) contains disturbing conclusions about the gap between theory and reality. For example, 96 percent of American religious are white; minority groups are poorly represented; "unconscious racism makes penetration of minority populations into rather homogeneous orders very difficult." The report shows that older religious in particular, while believing they are accepting of minor-ity members, in fact cannot adapt readily to the cultural diver-sity this demands.2 My experience is that religious of dominant cultures usually do not lack goodwill towards minority groups in their midst, but also that, while using the language of multicul-turalism or internationality, they understand only imperfectly what these words mean and what attitudinal and behavioral changes they must make in consequence. This introductory article has two aims: to. explain the terms inculturation, multiculturalisra, and internationality and to help readers identify, through case-study analysis, ways in which they may be unconsciously dominating and even oppressing people of minority cultures within their midst, thus obstructing the emer-gence of multicultural congregations.3 Defining Terms Multiculturalism is an inculturatibn imperative. Incultura~ion is "the incarnation of the Christian life and Christian message in a particular cultural context, in such a way that this experience not only finds expression through elements proper to the culture in question, but becomes a p~'inciple that animates, directs, and unifies the [cultural context], transforming and remaking it so as to bring about a 'new creation.'''4 Multiculturalism is a process of inculturation whereby cultures are so transformed and remade into a "new creation" that they interact with one another in jus-tice and charity in the service of personal ~and community growth. This interaction does not occm" through a command from above or the planning of "just a few experts," as Pope John Paul II May-June 1995 327 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality reminds us in Redemptoris Missio (§54), but through the involve-ment of people at all levels of society. The way culture is conceptualized has significant bearing on the theory and practice of inculturation and consequently of mul-ticulr0ralism. As an hnthropologist I believe that the failure to define accurately what is meant by culture makes it impossible for people to understand the complexity of inculturation and the challenges involved in developing an authentic multicultural com-munity in religious, parish, or secular life. In the classicist's definition, culture is a visible, comprehensi-ble entity, the consEious creation of rational minds,s The focus is on observable phenomena (such as language, foods, literature, dances) rather than on how people feel about what they do. Cultures, then, can be graded aesthetically: one culture may be considered to have more artistic dances than another. This definition of culture has grave deficiencies. It overstresses ethnic groups' historical lifestyles and customs and downplays their adaptation to the world in which they now live. It freezes a culture in a time period and encourages romantic or fossilized views of a people's former way of living. This definition likens a culture to a machine something with visible, rationally con-structed, interconnected parts that can readily be replaced by sim-ilar components without creating any pa.rticular difficulty. If a religious community uses this meaning of culture, then it expects the process of inculturation to be speedy and simple. The com-munity merely replaces, with administrative efficiency, an existing custom with a gospel-inspired one. And it does this by imple-menting the directives of people (pastors, r+ligious superiors) from outside the culture. This is not inculturation; the people who are the object of t~ae process have no free involvement in it, but instead are ma~aipulated. The second definition of culture gives priority to a group's ideas and feelings: Culture is not an entity, but is primarily a pro-cess that is persuasively at work, particularly in the unconscious of the group and individuals. It is a pattern of shared assump-tions expressed in symbols, myths, and rituals that a .group has invented, discovered, or developed .while coping with problems of external adaptation and internal cohesion. This instrumental view of culture, while it assumes the importance of factual history and visible phenomena, highlights the developmental and ever evolv-ing survival role of culture for people in a world of change, prej- 328 Review for Religious udice, and discrimination. Finally, culture is not one aspect of life along with, for example, religious, political, and economic activ-ity. It embraces all human activity.6 An appreciation of this defi-nition of culture has the, following immediate practical consequences for inculturation and multiculturalism. 1. Because a culture is essentially a living interrelation of sym-bols and myths, the feeling of belonging to it is basically invisible to outsiders. The experience of being culturally different or of confronting a history of preju-dice and discrimination pro-duces a set of memories and feelings that are not easily shared with outsiders. The out-sider may gain some under-standing from participation in the visible activities .of the group (such~as dances and food ritu-als), but finds it difficult or even impossible to comprehend its inner experiences and feelings. 2. In order to begin to appreciate another cultu.re, one must have the gifts of empathy and of openness to dialogue. Empathetic listening means trying to become aware not only of others' feelings, but also of how they experience them-- and, as far as possible, to have the same feelings.7 An outsider As an anthropologist I believe that the failure to define accurately what is meant by culture makes it impossible for people to understand the complexity of inculturation and the challenges involved in developing an authentic multicultural community in religious, parish, or secular life. can know more about the history, cultural externals, and even language of an ethnic group than its members and still be alien to them because of a lack of empathy.Dialogue, a consequence of empathy, is the interaction in which people seek to give of them-selves as they are and to receive and know the others in their par-ticular oth.erness.8 Dialogue presumes that one is prepared to learn from others and their cultures and to let ~o of attachments that interfere with the growth in mutuality. 3. People of'every cultu.re tend to think that their own way of feeling about life and of thinking and acting is the right way; they May-June 1995 329 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality see the ways of other peoples as stupid, crude, or unreasonable. This prejudice in favor 'of one's own group is technically called eth-nocentrism. Taken to an extreme, the assumption is that "our way of life is the way of life," so that other groups have nothing of value to offer us. Hence, on the basis of assumed religious, eco-nomic, or racial superiority, people seek to dominate others and their cultures. Frequently people of dominant cultures are uncon-scious of the oppressive power they exert over minority cultures (people who, because of their ethnic origins, are excluded from group decision making); they take their cultural superiority for granted and relate to minority peoples according to cultural stereotypes of their inferiority.9 A stereotype is a set image that a people has of peoples that differ from them; it is a shorthand, but faulty and often unjust, method of handling or grasping a complex world of people. 4. People who are culturally oppressed are likely to become extremely sensitive to the dominant culture's symbols of coercive power. When people of minority cultures move into the main-stream, the resulting contact of cultures is not an abstract concept, but a high order of human drama. The plot and its crosscurrents, its motives and motifs, are played out by a ghostly cast of hang-ers- on, by prejudice, longing, fear.~° 5. When people of different cultures meet for the first time, they tend to react in two or three stages. First, they are fasci-nated by and even enjoy visible cultural differences in, for exam-ple, cuisine and entertainment. Later they experience disillusionment or friction when the difficulties of communication outweigh their enthusiasm for cultural diversity. If they strive to overcome the cultural obstacles to communication, they move to interaction--the experience of authentic multiculturalism. Most never get beyond the second stage. Multiculturalism and Internationality Multiculturalism is often an emotive word, "a buzzword with almost as many meanings as there are mouths to utter it.''11 Most commonly, however, the word is used technically in one of three ways. Demographic multiculturalism means that a particular soci-ety contains different cultural groups; holistic multiculturalism means that a society values cultural diversity, but gives higher priority to group-wide cohesion; political multiculturalism, as a 330 Review for Religious social philosophy; acknowledges the legitimate concerns of ethnic groups within a society or an organization and the need for these interests to be expressed in adequate politico-economic struc-tures and processes. Political multiculturalists seek to establish structures that allow by right minority peoples to be fully involved in decision making in matters that affect their lives. They foster a balance between the demands of overall group cohesion and inner cultural diversity. Multiculturalism, in these three senses, normally applies to situations within the same country; interna-tionality is multiculturalism as applied to relationship.s between separate countries. Political multiculturalism, historically, is a reaction against policies of cultural oppression. Phrases or terms such as "the melt-ing pot approach to immigrants," "cultural pluralism," and "inte-gration" are often synonymous with covert or overt programs to destroy minority cultures by forcing them to be assimilated into the dominant culture. Critical decisions are made about minority peoples and their future without their participation. Another insidious form of oppression is cultural romanticism. Here the dominant culture, using the classicist definition of culture, fosters romantic visions of minority cultures, emphasizing what is thought to be the exotic or strange features of these cultures (dances, rit-uals). People of the dominant culture claim "it would be a pity if such cultures disappeared." Minority peoples are made to feel like inanimate museum pieces to be called out to entertain peo-ple of the dominant culture at politically correct times and then to retire to their inferior positions when the need ceases. Case Studies Case studies are detailed observations of connected processes in individual and group experience thfit help us to understand complex social phenomena and to see ways in which theoretical principles and insights may be applied. I suggest that readers reflect on the following case studies, asking themselves--before ~ssessing my own comments~how the above theoretical clarifi-cations apply in each instance. 1. A General Chapter in Confusion An international congregation of clerical religious met in gen-eral chapter for two months. A participant from a first-world May-~une 1995 331 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality country reported his experience and that of many others: "During the first two weeks, there was a great spirit of internationality and friendship. Each group explained through song, dances, food, and visual displays the qualities of their cultural origins. We espe-cially enjoyed the presentations from the joy-filled third-world countries; they made our Western productions look rather dull in contrast. Then something happened, and it still puzzles me. Quite suddenly delegates from our third-world provinces began to complain angrily in the general sessions that the translation facilities for them were not as good as for the Western delegates, that they were made to feel inferior in committee meetings by never being asked for their opinions . I and others still cannot understand this anger, especially because we did everything pos-sible to give them the first places for their cultural presentations. These are the same people we have helped for so long with gifts for their formation houses and missions. They seem to be ungrate-ful. Perhaps we have failed to teach them the right way to act in international gatherings. The chapter ended without these peo-ple realizing that they had undermined the good spirit of the gathering." Comment: In this case study the delegate has unwittingly adopted the narrow classicist view of culture and moves from enthusiasm for cultural diversity to disillusionment; internation-ality for him and other Western delegates is restricted to such relatively inconsequential things as eating foreign food and admir-ing other people's exotic dances. Influenced by this approach to culture, he' is prevented from understanding the requirements for authentic multiculturalism and internationality within the chap-ter and congregation. Third-world delegates are reacting against a well-entrenched tradition of paternalism and cultural superior-ity on the part of the dominant culture. They rightly want to be accepted for what they are: members of the same congregation, with human experiences and insights of value to all. 2. Romanticism Destroys Formation ' .An international clerical religious congregation, founded last century in Europe, had developed several formation houses in third-world countries. In a report to an international meeting on initial formation in the congregation, the superior general wrote: "We thank God for so many vocations from [these lands]. Because [these lands] are extremely poor, the people so happy and carefree 332 Review for Religious and their cultures so unsophisticated, we have decided for now not to insist on the same rigorous screening criteria for appli-cants nor on the high-level academic and religious life formation that we have in the West. When you meet these students, you immediately feel their happiness and fine community spirit. They will make good religious, but we must not expect them to measure up to our professional standards for some time to come." Comment: The superior general, in his high praise for the cultures of the students, is a cultural romanti-cist, even an unconscious racist. The cultures he refers to are group-ori-ented ones; that is, they emphasize the need for public harmony at all costs, so that tensions and unre-solved, conflicts are kept hidden, but remain ready to explode into vio-lence at any time. The general's inability to recognize this deprives students of their right in justice to be trained professionally for min-istry, trained (for example) to under-stand objectively the cultural forces that influence their lives and those of their people. The ~eneral also makes a racist judgment, namely, that the students from poor techno-logical cultures are incapable of the Third-world delegates are reacting against a well-entrenched tradition of paternalism and cultural superiority on the part of the dominant culture. They rightly want to be accepted for what they are: members of the same congregation, with human experiences and insights of value to all. levels of learning expected in Western formation systems. Finally, the congregation is international, but the general is setting the stage for a two-tier membei'ship: persons with sophisticated edu-cation from Western countries and educationally deprived per-sons from the third world. This means that third-world members of the congregation will effectively be excluded from taking up leadership positions at the international level. 3. Theory and Practice Clash A congregation of brotherb from Europe has worked in Asia for over fifty years, but with no lasting success in recruiting or May-June 1995 333 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality retaining local candidates. Several former brothers of Asian ori-gin commented to me through an intermediary about their expe-rience: "The region was established from a Western nation. After our training we were sent to communities in which most reli-gious were from this foreign country. They were good people, but during recreation they always spoke in -English, never in our language, and the topics of conversation commonly were about incidents and characters of their formation days in Europe or the latest sporting event at home. Then from time to rime they would make ethnic iokes at the expense of our own people, putting them down, and we were expected to laugh as they did. It became so painful that we complained, but we were told to think 'interna-tionally,' not with provincial minds! It became too much so we left." Comment: I sense that the foreigners in this Asian region are totally unaware of their cultural imperialism; it is as if they have never left their homeland, and their use of ethnic jokes illustrates their lack of cultural sensitivity. Ethnic jokes are common in most societies, but examination shows that the object of such jokes is "to put down" members of other cultures and present one's own group as normal and superior. Ethnic jokes are unjust and can be most painful to members of minority groups, who nevertheless are expected, if present when the jokes are told, to laugh submissively and accept the ascribed expression of inferiority.~2 4. Inculturation Expectations Collapse One Mexican American sister recorded her frustration and that of many others: "I became a member of a North American congregation before Vatican II. We Mexican Americans were (and are still) in the minority; the majority are white third- or fourth-generation Americans. During my training we had to divorce our-selves from our families, and I cannot even begin to express what this meant to me and other Mexican American sisters. With the coming of Vatican II, I thought at last I can be a religious and a Mexican American at the same time. Our chapters spoke of the need for inculturation and multiculturalism in our communities and apostolates as priorities. When I and others attempted to take this priority seriously, all kinds of problems emerged. For example, members of my family began to visit frequently, openly using our language for conversation and prayer. Other community members began to object, sometimes hinting or saying directly to 334 Review for Religious me: 'You are disturbing our peace with so many relatives, espe-cially. distant ones, coming to see you. And why don't they speak in English? They should because this is America!'" Comment: Hispanic cultures traditionally emphasize the fam-ily as the basic unit of identity, in vivid contrast to the mainstream American culture, in which individuals claim identity for them-selves independently of family ties. When the congregational chapter in the above case study enthusiastically supports incul-turation and multiculturalism, they are unaware of the implications for individuals and communities. Individualism has become such an unquestioned way of life for the dominant culture in the con-gregation that most members cannot conceive of any alternative lifestyle. Hence, the culture clash. References to inculturation and multiculturalism in chapters remain pure rhetoric. 5. Popular Religiosity Unappreciated~ An international congregation, founded last century in Europe, and with many communities in North America, sought candidates for the first time among Hispanic Americans. For a short time it received several candidates, but the formation leader reported that "they did not survive for long either in the training programs or later in our communities." Several who had left com-mented, and this is a representative view: "My formation house was cheerless, without life, and the communities I lived in after profession were no better. Liturgies were dull, filled with words, but no color or movement. I felt myself dying spiritually. I com-plained to the provincial, and she commented: 'I cannot under-stand you. We provide you with highly trained formators, but you still complain.' The director of formation tried to listen to me and said she understood, so the following month she bought Mexican rugs and ornaments and put them around the house, saying 'This will make you immigrant people feel at home with us!' It did not. We still felt like aliens, unable to pray in devo-tional ways that make sense to us. The sad thing is that no one understood. No wonder Hispanics leave religious life~" Comment: In this case study, there is a serious clash between popular religiosity characteristics of many Hispanic peoples and the standard ways of praying within contemporary North American Catholicism. The inability 5o appreciate popular reli-giosity and the tendency to condemn it as "primitive, supersti-tious nonsense" continues to alienate countless Hispanics from May-June 1995 335 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality Unless candidates are freely able t~o relate the spirituality offered them to their own rich cultural religious experience, it will remain totally alien to them. the church today.~3 At its core popular religiosity is a storehouse of values offering answers of Christian wisdom to the great ques-tions of life. It creatively combines the divine and the human, Christ andMary, spirit and body, intelligence, imagination, and emotion in ways that are colorful and imaginative. Devotions to saints and pious practices--once part of mainstream American Catholic life--are integral features of popular religiosity. ,4. Hispanic Catholics complain, however, that the liturgies of mainstream Ca.tholicism today are cqmmonly too "heady," formal, and unimaginative. In the case study, Hispanic can-didates and religious are unjustly pressured to conform to the domi-nant culture's religious expression.s. This is a tragedy, at several levels. Neither the provincial nor the for-mator has any appreciation of the nature and power of culture; the for-mator assumes, without even asking the. candidates, that culture is syn-onymous with what we see, Bring in a few artifacts and minority peoples will "feel at home." The can-didates understandably feel insulted and misunderstood. Unless the candidates are freely able to relate the spirituality offered them to their own rich cultural religious experience, it will remain totally alien to them. 6. Congregational Colonialism Returns A congregation based in the United States had formally estab-lished a province in Africa. After some years it was decided uni-laterally by the general government to suppress the province for reasons of administrative and financial efficiency and to reunite the community of African sisters within the original province in the United States. The full provincial administration--all Americans-- visited the assembly of African sisters to explain the situation, but to their surprise they were met with considerable anger. An African sister spoke feelingly for her group: "Finance is not our primary need. We are prepared to be poor, provided we can gov-ern ourselves. Now by the adminstrative change we feel again 336 Review for Religious overwhelmed by the presence of the United States, and we are made tQ feel small and unimportant. You have economic and polit-ical power. Now we have none and must submit to a culture of dependency and inferiority!" The provincial administration could not understand this and ieported to the general that the African communities "had come under the influence of Marxism." Comment: There is little need to comment. In their reactions to the adminstrative change, the African sisters are fearful of a return to a new and degrading congregational colonialism. The American administration is unaware that their African sisters have been made to feel inferior under earlier administrative organiza-tional cultures. The failure~ to consult the African sisters about the decision reinforces their understandable distrust of both the provincial and the general administrations. The provincial admin-istrat. ion, by blaming the African sisters for the negativity, sees no need to examine its own cultural assumptions. Conclusion The task of expressing the consecrated life in diverse cultures today is one of the great challenges for its future. --Instrumentum Laboris §93, Synod of Bishops 1994 ° Thevision of multiculturalism is inspiring but rarely achieved in concrete ways. A reason for this is the failure to clarify the meaning of cul~ure. Culture is not primarily the lifestyles of peo-ple; rather, it is a group's sense of its identity, its inner history of struggling for equality, just, ice, and respect for human dignity. Through multiculturalism (and internationality) people of dif-ferent cultures commit themselves to grow humanly together in justice and charity, while respecting and learning from the legit-imate cultural differences of each other. ' Multiculturalism demands ongoing conversion to the mission of Christ, "a profound transformation of mentalities and ways of living" (Instrumentum laboris §93).If religious do not struggle to achieve this transformation, they are not true to the prophetic nature of their commitment, for the values and practice of mul-ticulturalism and internationality are everywhere desperately needed. Moreover, religious committed to refoundingotheir con-gregations would do well to ponder a lesson of history: Energy for the founding and refounding of communities comes from multi-culturalism and internationality. As Raymond.Hostie notes: May-June 1995 337 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality "Cistercians, Norbertines, Dominicans, Carmelites, Jesuits, and Piarists all emerged from groups .whose members belonged to three nationalities, even four or five . Heterogeneity is a nec-essary condition for activating effective fermentation."~s Notes 1 See Walter Wink, Engaging the Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a World of Domination (Minneapolis: Fortress PreSs, 1992), pp. 195-207. 2 See David Nygren CM and Miriam Ukeritis CSJ, "The Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins. 22, no. 15 (1992): 272, and Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 48. 3 ~ee an earlier article of mine on aspects of this theme: "Beyond Frontiers: The Supranational Challenge of the Gospel," Review for Religious 46, no. 3 (May-June 1987): 351-370. 4 Pedro Arrupe SJ, cited by Michael Amaladoss SJ, "Inculturadon and Internationality," East Asian Pastoral Review 29, no. 3 (1992): 23% s See Gerald A. Arbuckle SM, Earthing the Gospel: An Inculturation Handbook for the Pastoral Worker (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1990), pp. 26- 78, and "Understanding Ethnicity, Multiculturalism, and Inculturation," Human Development 14, no. 1, pp. 8-10. 6 On this point I would differ from M. Amaladoss's excellent article cited above, pp. 241-243. 7 See E Lopez, Pastoral Care in an Emerging World (Sydney: Marist Centre for Pastoral Care, 1994), p. 302. s See Arbuckle, Refou. nding the Church: Dissent for Leadership (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1993), p. 111. 9 See Arbuckle, Earthing, pp. 147-166. ~0 See Arbuckle, Earthing, pp. 166-186. it R. Hughes, Culture of Complaint: The Fraying of America (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), p. 83. ,2 See Arbuclde, Earthing, pp. 162f. 13 See Allan Figueroa Deck SJ, The Second Wave: Hispanic Ministry and the Evangelization of Cultures (New York: Paulist Press, 1989), pp. 54- 119. ,4 See Arbuckle, Earthing, pp. 108-112. 15 The Life and Death of Religious Orders: A Psycho-Sociological Approach, (Washington D.C.: CARA, 1983), p. 259. 338 Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC Accompanying New-Age People '7have often thought . . . if we regard the bomb (or world .~. hunger or the dying seas) as a monstrous demonic injus-tice, that must mean we never, somehow on some level, never took it seriously: the injunction to love. The stuff Jesus was talk-ing about and the Buddha." So wrote Joanna Macy somewhere; and, I believe, the same may well be said regarding the New Age movement (NAM) or, more correctly, the extreme variety of it focused on by the media: images of anything from psychic phe-nomena through esoteric beliefs in crystal gazing and spirit chan-neling to weird fads in self-centered or willful behavior going by the name of cosmic wisdom, My interest--"follow your allurement," Joseph Campbell would say--in writing on this new Western phenomenon comes from two semesters I spent a few years ago with an international group of some seventy people most of whom were Westerners carried along in the the New Age wave.1 We were, of all places, at a Catholic college in California where I had hoped to learn some new exciting approaches to Christian spirituality. Before long, however, I had to contend with some so-called spirituality that seemed anything but Christian. For one thing, "once a Christian, never again a Christian" was the prevailing mood of the majority, some of whom became more and more aggressive towards anything Christian. One time I could not refrain from remarking to my companions that as a group we could be toler-ant and respectful of every tradition except Christian. With so A. Paul Dominic SJ wrote this article from experiences he had while doing graduate studies in spirituality at Holy Names College in Oakland, California. His address is Satyodayam; 12-5-33, S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. May-.3~une 1995 339 Dominic * Accompanying New-Age People much bashing of Christianity in my spiritual circle, I felt like a fish--an ichthus--in a cesspool. As time went on, however, I felt different. I saw things dif-ferently; empathy brought some insight. Coming to hear the per-sonal stories of my companions, all of whom were quondam Christians (Protestant and, like Joseph Campbell himself, Catholic), I could not but feel and formulate that they sought and found this New Age haven because the Christianity of their experience had gone awry; their lives had become an enormous unhealed and unhealing hurt, like Carol Christ's. (She had suffered her incompatible marriage for years until one day, in a terrible skiing accident, she instinctively hoped that her death would make her a martyr to the indissolubility of marriage, only to find her-self still alive and confined to a hospital bed. She decided that she had had enough of the marriage she had entered upon in church, eventually giving up her Christianity too and discovering New Age freedom.) One thirtyish woman among my companions had for years suffered trauma upon trauma because her parents would not listen to her stoW of sexual abuse by a close relative, but instead would tell her to go to confession every time she brought up her nagging distress. Her anguish came to an end when she found a hearing among New Age friends of hers. Another woman who had been quite a staunch Catholic in her youth spoke of the joyless vision of life she grew up with as she prayed about the vale of tears instead of the original blessing (this is a three-word mantra of New Agers) of the universe. Seconding them, a man-- a religious brother in good standing--declared nevertheless that the church had constricted and restricted his humanity by its leaden dos and don'ts. In the New Age covenant groups, all of them found, or thought they had found, what they had missed out on during their childhood or adolescent Christianity. Obviously, in all such cases, whatever in their new associa-tion they perceived to be filling their psychological or spiritual needs was something basically Christian, however unaware of this they were because of the unresponsive, unenlightened, and per-haps even false practice of Christianity with which they had been contending. From this discerningperspective New Age spirituality may be said to embrace within itself certain Christian elements at their best which somehow for whatever reason were found miss-ing in avowed Christian circles, whether they were couples or homes or schools or seminaries or rectories or dioceses or, of 340 Review for Religious course, the Vatican (the veritable b~te noire of former Catholics finding their berth in the New Age). I would, then, dispute the claim of the NAM to offer a spirituality for a post-Christian world, and I would point out that, despite the NAM's aversion to Christianity, quite a few of its genuine experiences have been, in many times and places, very much at home in Christianity. As the New Age plays the queen of all it surveys and declares it to be "the post-Christian world," I would submit that her declaration is in vain for the simple reason that she herself has made a home for genuine Christian elements forgotten or forsaken. Ironically, thanks to her the church and Christianity have an unsuspected way of coming into their own. Perhaps this is what a deacon's twenty-year-old daughter--quite unlike my companions--meant when she said: "Don't get me wrong. I don't hate the church. I just want it to be better than it is. I want it to be alive--not what some old deacon thinks is alive, but my kind of alive . -2 It is not fanciful but altogether pleasantly surprising to find how, for all the avowed antagonism to Christ among those sab-batical- year companions of mine, Christ made himself discreetly, unobtrusively present. Have we not heard about the unknown Christ of non-Christian religions? Perhaps in the New Age circle of my acquaintance he was not so much unknown as unacknowl-edged, unwanted, and even (unsuccessfully) banished. A former seminarian, for instance, confessed virulently that he had no need of Christ to save him for he had nothing to be saved from. Christ, however, kept himself in their midst in an unintrusive manner. That, perhaps, is the very nature of Christ. I was led willy-nilly to think in this way by observing the effect a song had on some my of New Age friends. Of all the songs we used for the circle dance, the Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison especially charmed the most conspicuously anti-Christian one among us. I could not help chuckling over the archetypal trickster role Christ resorted to in order to reach out to one who had rejected him consciously and deliberately. If New Agers would "let go" (a favorite expres-sion of theirs) of Christ, Christ would let them, but he would not let go of them. While we rejoice in this latent presence of Christ in the NAM, we would do well to ask our'selves how much of Christ we, the people of present-day Christianity, hold on to~ Whatever of Christ we had, did it convey so untrue an image of him that someone close to us chose to turn his or her back on him? Why else did a May-.~ne 1995 341 Dominic ¯ Accompanying New-Age People young man make bold to say: "The picture we have of the Christian church as a continuation of the fellowship Jesus set in motion is a gross distortion" ? 3 If it is, is it not high time that we regrasp Christ and make more of a home for him in our churches so that people cannot avoid seeing and meeting him there? Now is a good time for the church to let the "Christ before Christianity" address himself to it so that it may come to know him afresh in a renewal of the reign of God that he initiated. The New Age, reacting against the present age of Christianity, seeks its roots in an age older than our familiar ancient civiliza-tions. It has found, however, a certain remnant of Christian tra-dition appealing to it, namely, the mystical tradition. So it would revive the memory of mystics like Mechtild of Magdeburg and Meister Eckhart who are credited with having drawn heavily from the chthonic and matriarchal era of humanity. Whatever the rea-son for the NAM's reverence for these Christian mystics, thought-ful Christians can think of them only as Christians and not in any other terms. Will it not be true to say that Christian mystics were more Christian than mystic, having become mystics precisely by their way of being Christian? Th.e acceptability of some Christian mystics to New Age reli-gionists (I say "some" because they find others such as Augustine and Ignatius Loyola distinctly unacceptable) should not be mat-ter for any triumphalism inasmuch as the NAM goes for all mys-ticism. Instead, the New Age's mystical interests must serve to open our eyes to what we have lost sight of, namely, the mystical horizon of the Christian universe from its very inception in Christ. How many can resonate with the declaration made by William Johnston that Christianity indeed originates in the mystical expe-rience of Christ, reaching its climax in his resurrection? How many will be persuaded by Johnston's sweeping view of our mys-tical heritage, starting with Christ, handed down by Paul, kept alive by the fathers of the church, cherished by the medieval mys-tics, and shared in even by the simple people whom Poulain found in his time and Johnston and others recognize in ours? Given the mystical strain of Christianity, he suggests that reflection on our mystical experience, together with the reflection on conversion that Bernard Lonergan advocates, could form the basis of our theology in the future.4 In keeping with the New Age penchant for all forms of mys-ticism of whatever origin, one crusader of the NAM, Matthew 342 Review for Religious Fox, has come up with a dozen or so running definitions of mys-ticism, qualifying almost everyone to be a self-designated mys-tic. However one may critique such New Age eclecticism, there is behind it such a thing as the real intention (to use Neuro- Linguistic Programming's term) that is certainly right and praise-worthy insofar as it only culls the beautiful wherever it finds it. This is one of the ways in which the New Age can pose a challenge to religions to recover their original spirit and. shed whatever has become unnecessarily hidebound,s Aiming at such a breakthrough, the New Age attends to the different religions as to a story and not a lecture;6 and so it can appropriately respond to the turns and twists and leads and plots of the different religious stories, thus creating a new story and generating a new spirituality. All modern, sensible Christians cannot but see in all this a certain spirit of ecumenism. However much official church pronouncements eulo-gize and emphasize the modern Christian spirit as ecumenical, the ecumenical practice in church life worldwide is not conspicuously vigorous even if present. How many have Christianity enough to hate but not to love, whether in Northern Ireland or Rwanda or the former Yugoslavia or other large and small places! What thoughtful Christian could fail to agree with what a New Age writer has remarked: "For many peo-ple, religion has become a force that creates enemies and teaches distrust and disrespect for differences, rather than a force that truly builds the human family and the meaning that sustains us"?7 Seen from this perspective, New Age eclecticism could well be practical ecumenism, something that Christians ideally seek to realize in their communities vis-~a-vis other religious communities. Here as elsewhere it is better to make mistakes and progress by learning from them than to play safe, avoiding mistakes only to make the big mistake of getting stuck in the status quo and then regressing. It is certainly high time to vindicate the bold inspira-tion of John XXIII and the proud heritage he bequeathed to his church, to all of Christianity, and to all the world. Will it not be true to say that Christian mystics were more Christian than mystic, having become mystics precisely by their way of being Christian? May-j~lne 1995 ~ 343 Dominic ¯ Accompanying New-AgePeople No story has been told of how this pope got the idea of con-vening an ecumenical council. But what if it had come to him in a dream? Whatever the hierarchy or the theologians or the church's rank and file might think about such a story, New Agers would not at all find it odd or shocking. They set store on their dreams, treasuring them as the nocturnal gifts of the Universe or the collective unconscious that counterbalance an overmuch influ-ence of the conscious reasoning power of the waking hours. They are intent on keeping a regular and detailed record of them, going to great lengths sometimes to stimulate and then recall them, pondering over them daily (reminiscent of the "additional direc-tives" in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola and also reminiscent of formal religious practice itself). They have their guru in C.G. Jung, who not only developed a mythological and mystical approach to dreams, but also left behind his conviction that dreams can be read by anyone who meditates on them long enough. Many New Age people would resonate with Henry Miller's experiences: "The realization that there was a pattern to my life, one which made sense, came about in a curious way. Shortly after moving into the Villa Seurat, I had begun to record my dreams. And not only the dreams but the associations which the act of transcribing them induced. Doing this over a period of months, I suddenly began to see, 'To suddenly see,' as Saroyan says somewhere. A pregnant phrase--to anyone who has had the experience. An expression which has only one meaning: to see with new eyes.''8 New Age people believe in the newness brought about by dreams on all levels (personal and social) and domains (artistic, scientific, philosophic, and theosophic) of humanity. They see themselves as cocreators of new humanity, thanks to the creative potential of dreams breaking through the premature closure of thought represented for them by the dictum that rev-elation was complete with the death of the last apostle. Though the real point of the theological dictum might be missed by New Age people, their rediscovery of dreams is some-thing that may be missed by church people. For one thing, we must realize that, along with all religious cultures, the Judeo- Christian tradition too has developed its own perspective of dreams. Abraham Lincoln is reported to have remarked some-thing obvious and yet valuable enough to appear as the epigraph of a Christian book on dreams: "How much there is in the Bible about dreams! . . . If we believe the Bible, we must accept the 344 Review for Religious fact that, in the old days, God and his angels came to humans in their sleep and made themselves known in dreams.''9 There are sensible Christians who would wager that what happened in the old biblical days can and does continue to hap-pen even today for God's people, especially if God is the Revealer of Mysteries and also of our inmost thoughts (Dn 2:29-30), direct-ing our hearts even at night (Ps 16:7). Those who think in this line and yet are not very sure about the meaning of their dreams may well be enlightened by the remark of an anonymous author: "It is very interesting to see that all the dreams reported by religious fig-ures in the New Testament and in early Christianity do not require any interpreting at all. They are nearly always straightforward messages of encouragement from God.''~° A simple Tamil farmer, for instance, could appreciate this. In a dream he saw a leprosy patient asking him for a glass of water and he gave him one, but only after much hesitation until he heard a clear voice telling him to get up and read Matthew,25:35. On waking he looked up the passage: "I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink." Those in the Catholic tradition with their cult of saints may well draw inspiration from the way the saints benefited from their dreams even after reflecting on dreams fell into disrepute in the church in the middle of the 4th century. To recall a saint of recent history, John Bosco (1815-1888) certainly cherished his dreams and shared them with others. At the age of nine, he had a dream which recurred repeatedly for some eighteen years. First he saw himself surrounded by spoiled urchins and trying noisily and forcibly to control them; a man of noble bearing and great radi-ance called him by name and bade him do his work kindly and gently; then he saw a lady of beauty and majesty changing all sorts of wild animals into gentle lambs and asking him to do the same to her children. Through that dream he could in the course of time envision more and more the future establishment of his Besides their serious attention to dreams, New Age people have discovered in ancient cultures something else, the celebration of rituals. May-d~ne 1995 345 Dominic * Accompanying New-Age People Oratory and the spread of his work.11 Whatever spiritual profit accrued to the saints by way of dreams can become a matter of our own experience because each one of us is a special sort of a saint, an idea that NAM would laud heartily. Besides their serious attention to dreams, New Age people have discovered in ancient cultures something else, the celebra-tion of rituals. New Age celebrants perform some of the old rit-uals related to mythological tales like that of Demeter and Persephone, hoping to be empowered by them. They resurrect the rituals of the seasons, wanting to be in tune with the rhythm of the earth and the energy of the sun. They reenact and update the rit-uals of passage of human life from birth, through adulthood and marriage, to death. No wonder, then, that after the violent death of one of my compaflions, a New Age former Catholic, there was held a ritual which included a long circle dance with the song "We all come from the goddess / and to her shall we return / like the drops of waters / flowing to the ocean," followed by the unex-pected eerie cry of a woman almost beside herself swearing to avenge her friend's death. Of all the rituals the pride of place would go to the ritual of the maze. It consists in meandering through a maze to reach the inner center and then making one's way back to the outer rim. Interestingly, it developed out of, or at least came to be associated with, the archetype of the spiral that manifests itself in the total spectrum of the universe from the shape of the galaxies through that of the atomic space to that of the DNA helix. One may wonder ivhether this ritual has not pen-etrated beneath humanity's consciousness when one realizes the enthusiasm aroused by the variety of mazes or labyrinths extant even today in various countries such as Sweden, Japan, and Britain--this last, incidentally, declared 1991 the Year of the Maze. Two of the friends in our group decided to plight their love to each other singing their way through a labyrinth far from the madding crowd deep in a quiet valley open to the azure gaze of the California sky and in the presence, of course, of those who had journeyed with them. I wonder whether New Age revelers resorting to renewed or newfound rituals have known the wise words of the Tat Te Ching: "Ritual is but the crust of loyalty and good faith, / And the begin-ning of discord.''12 1 would, however, add this observation. Though some of their rituals can be weird, others are truly inspiring and religious. The ceremony "Remembering the Way," created by 34.6 Review for Religious Joan M. McMillen, for instance, honoring the eight-hundred-year- old labyrinth in the Cathedral of Chartres, with its evocative music even using Latin in a whole stanza and its call to let go, builds up a climax of expectancy in everyone, ending with the final song of calm assurance: "Sooner or later, everyone finds their way. / Wholly without, embracing; wholly within, ful-filling. / Go I know not where, seek I know not what. / Sooner or later, everyone comes home." That a genuine spiritual experience can be built around a long-forgotten and unused maze in the French cathedral is an eloquent symbol for me of the untapped, undying springs of spir-ituality hidden not only in the heart, but in the history of the church. Thus, the ritual celebrations at the vernal equinox and the winter solstice can with a little imagination be linked with the feasts of the Annunciation and Christmas, respectively, lead-ing people to experience heaven even on the way to heaven and that in an earthly way--as has been done, for instance, at the Jesuit retreat house in Sedalia, Colorado. So also, the simple drumming and dancing and singing of native peoples all over the globe have a spiritual potential that the church can effectively make its own with respect and gratitude and joy.13 In these matters the church does not need to conduct first-time experiments, but need only reclaim riches from its distant past. For example, even in the cenobitic times, long before churches of the medieval period served as stages for the enter-tainment that morality plays provided, the church building was already considered a festive hall?4 The modern church has been made newly festive mostly by the charismatic renewal, which is largely an urban phenomenon; it must become open to some of the festivity of "pagan" (from the Latin pagus "country district," as New Agers point out) or "rural" areas, the places of aboriginal roots. The New Age movement manifests an earthy or creation-ori-ented spirituality. Clear expressions of it--and extreme ones if understood literally instead of metaphorically--are "Mother Earth" and "Mother Nature." A literal understanding would go beyond James Lovelock's Gaia hypothesis and would conceive the earth as a living entity, with a life of its own on which ours depends. It would understand the divine principle as not only being in nature, but being nature itself. There would be no room for transcendence here. Everything of earth would be sacred, in May-j~ne 1995 347 Dominic ¯ Accompanying New-Age People particular the whole of human nature without any distinction between matter and spirit. A less extreme position about all this would be analogous to Copernicus's. As he saw Earth displaced from center stage, people would see themselves displaced from their superior position as the thinking species separated from the rest of nature and would give the preeminence to the whole of the universe and especially to Earth, unique planet that it seems to be, making it Earth's universe par excellence with a history of fifteen billion years or so. Comparable to this cosmological posi-tion would be this theological position: Since the earth is of such an age compared with which the whole of human history is no more than a brief moment, the point of departure for theologiz-ing should be the original blessing of the earth rather than the original fall. Aside from the first and most extreme position above--a fer-vid New Ager like Carol Christ, however, would prefer not to make such distinctions--the other two positions could easily become the ideal Christian view of earth. Though the Christian West may have used and overused the earth to the point of abuse, Christian sources tell a different story. The Bible opens with the story of the earth and all creation, in which the divinity finds due delight because of the imprint of the divine goodness all through it, Hopkins's one line "The world is charged with the grandeur of God" says it well, and so does Elizabeth Browning's couplet "Earth's crammed with heaven / And every common bush afire with God"--both reminiscent of the psalmist's familiar words "How great is your name, O Lord our God, / through all the earth!" (Ps 8:9). It is quite a revelation, is it not, that God provided a power-ful answer--through not a directly reasoned answer--to the bur-den of Job's anguished questions by encountering him as the God of creation's awesomely rich variety? "Ever since God created the world, his everlasting power and deity--however invisible--have been there for the mind to see in the things he has made" (Rm 1:20). It is no wonder, then, that, whenever God enters into a covenant with his human creation, he carries conviction by invok-ing the enduring solidity of his natural creation in such words as these: "Yahweh who provides the sun for light by day, the moon and stars for light by night, who stirs the sea, making its waves roar, he whose name is Yahweh Sabaoth, says this: Were this estab-lished order ever to pass away from my presence--it is Yahweh 348 Review for Religious who speaks--only then would the race of Israel also cease to be a nation in my presence forever" (Jr 31:35-36). This creation, however, is not as pure as it was originally because of original sin and all the successive sins of humanity. In spite of that, or' perhaps because of it, Paul could visualize the present thus: "The whole creation is eagerly waiting for God to reveal his sons. It was not for any fault on the part of creation that it was made unable to attain its purpose, itwas made so by God; but creation still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slaver~ to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God. From the beginning till now the entire cre-ation, as we know, has been groaning in one great act of giv-ing birth; and not only creation, but all of us who possess the first-fruits of the Spirit, we too groan inwardly as we wait for our bod-ies to be set free" (Rm 8:19-23). This visualization of all cre-ation, human as well as hatural, contains in an embryonic man-ner all the challenges and hopes Some, then, would say: Since the earth is of such an age compared with which the whole of human history is no more than a brief moment, the point of departure for theologizing should be the original blessing of the earth rather than the original fall. engendered and cherished by enlightened earthlings in relation to their earth, which, for all the ravages caused to it, is still humble, fertile, homely, and motherly. And so we learn to reverence cre-ation and earth and matter as St. John Damascene taught: "Through it, filled, as it were, with a divine power and grace, my salvation has come to me." At the end of a crescendo of ques-tions, he asks: "And, before all these things, is not the Body and Blood of our Lord matter? Do not despise matter, for it is not despicable.''~s These words are surely evocative of Teilhard de Chardin (quite a model for New Age faithful), but not only of him but of Ighatius Loyola (quite unacceptable to the New Age, though of him Teilhard has said that he could no more disown him than he could his own father), from whose Spiritual Exercises Teilhard had learned not a little about the divine milieu of the May-June 199Y 349 Dominic ¯ Accompanying New-Age People It is high time that we take the commandment of love seriously with regard to the way we look at New Age people. earth. In particular in the Contemplation to Attain Love he must have obtained a new vision of the universe in which he could find not only all things in God but God in all things.16 The dynamics of this vision is traced by Gilles Cusson thus: "The final fulfillment of God's revealed plan of salvation, which is a mystery of love expressed in the gratuitous calls to creation and salvation, is the pro-gressive movement of the world toward God, through the coming of the Christ who assumed the totality of our human condition; of the world which, now renewed, finds again on itself the divine mark of its origin and the sublime ordination which God's creative act had imprinted on it."~7 To conclude as we began, it is high time that we take the com-mandment of love seriously with regard to the way we look at New Age people. To the conservative and cocksure among us, some of them may appear to be freaks. But, as one of their fold, Jacquelyn Small, suggests somewhere, "What would Love do?" must be our constant question and search. By reading the signs of the times with a decided spirit of love, one may come to find many an admirable pearl of spirituality in the field of the New Age move-ment. These are to be valued in themselves and are worth redeem-ing for our church and ourselves, for we must love not only our neighbor but ourselves as well. Surely not everything in the New Age's,field is valuable, but among New Age leaders there are, for-tunately, some who dispute whatever is disingenuous and dehu-manizing and disintegrating. A witness to this reality I chanced to find in David Spangler, who in speaking of the New Age describes something that I as a Christian applaud: The shape of the new age takes on ordinary proportions for me. I find it, for example, in nurturing my marriage or in gracefully meeting the demands of parenthood. I find a new age in my craft and improving my work. I find it-in ¯ my questions about myself that impel me to confront my shortcomings and boundaries. I find it in the never ending quest to understand the nature and purpose of a God who 350 Review for Religious is not simply--or even primarily--the inner divinity that so many new age writers focus on, but the evocative Other whose very differences impel me to reach beyond myself and participate in the larger communion and community of life. I find the new age in the daily effort we share to live with integrity, grow with courage, and be a willing partner with life to allow expression of dreams and capabilities.~8 Accompanying New Age adherents in the spirit developed in the pages above would be a way to implement concretely two of the points contained in the call of the Inter-American Assembly of Religious held in 1994 in Santo Domingo, namely, (1) "to reject all that disavows the holiness of our world and its peoples, and instead to embrace our world and its peoples, sharing their con-crete social, economic, cultural, and religious struggles and hopes," and (2) "to reject efforts at evangelization that arise from stances of authoritarian power, and instead to proclaim" the good news and hope of Jesus from within the cultures and the experiences of people." t9 Notes ~ That it has made itself felt in the spiritual world at large is beyond doubt. See The Way, July 1993, devoted entirely to New Age spiritual-ity. 2 Don Gilmore, Extra Spiritual Power (Waco, 1972), p. 90. 3 Ibid, p. 93. 4 See William Johnston, The Inner Eve of Love (London, 1978), pp. 58- 59, and also Luis M. Bermejo, The Allurement of the Summit (Anand: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, 1993), pp. ix, 66, 67, and passim. s See Matthew Fox and Brian Swimme, Manifesto for a Global Civilization (Santa Fe: Bear and Co., 1982), p. 38. 6 See David Spangler, "The New Storytellers," In Context, Winter 1985, p. 19. 7 V. Hull, "New Myths to Live," One Earth, June-July 1986, p. 19. 8 Cited by Jeremy Taylor, Dream Work (New York: Paulist Press, 1983), p. 20. 9 See Louis M. Savary et al., Dreams and Spiritual Growth (New York: Paulist Press, 1984), p. xi. ~0 Anonymous, Dreams and Destiny (London, 1987), p. 51. ~ SeeJ. Bacchiarello, Forty Dreams of St. John Bosco (Madras, 1969), pp. iv and 2-3. May-3nune 1995 351 Dominic ¯ Accompanying New-Age People ,2 The preceding lines are: When the Way (Tao) fades away, Virtue (7~) raises up, When virtue fades away, humanness (jen) raises up, When humanness fades away, justice (yi) raises" up, When justi6e fades away, the ritual (li) raises upi' --cited by'~Raimon Panikkar, Worship and Secular Man (London, 1973), p. ix. ,3 Happily such were some of the main topics discussed in the work-shop in Canada last year for Jesuits working among the aboriginal peo-ples in different parts of the world. 14 See Panikkar, Worship, p. 85. ,s Cited by Samuel Rayan, "The Earth Is the Lord's," Vidyajyoti, 1990, p. 121. , ,6 Spiritual Exercise¢, §§230-237. 17 Gilles Cusson, Biblical Theology and the Spiritual Exercises (Anand: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash and St. Louis: institute of Jesuit Sources, 1988), p. 323. See also p. 324, n. 34. ,8 New Realities, May-June 1988. 19 Review for Religious 53, no. 4 (July-August 1994): 619-620. Universe Universe becoming befriending and free Summon the more, the maybe, and the not yet from me. Open the winds to enter me in and find gift and seeds and hop~ and flowers knowing that creation comes in longing openness to Mystery. Patricia St Louis CSJ 352 Review for Religious BARBARA VALUCKAS Lithuania: A Return to My Ancestral Home ~hile making my silver-jubilee retreat in 1983, I prayed ~" I¢ over the biblical passages about the year of jubilee. The directive in Leviticus 25 to "return to [your] ancestral home" in the jubilee year penetrated my prayer, bur did not fully infuse my imagination. I was able to name and celebrate many ancestral homes including my family, my church, my religious congregation, and my womanhood. Among these I named my ethriic and cultural roots in Lithuania, but in 1983, several years before the collapse of the Berlin wall, a literal fulfillment of the biblical words was beyond my imagining. I was to learn, however, that it was not beyond God's'imagination for me. I made my,first journey to Lithuania seven years later, just one year after people began streaming through the former Iron Curtain. As provincial of the VVilton, Connecticut, province of the School Sisters of Notre Dame, I was on my way to Hungary via Lithuania to attend an extended general council meeting of our congregation. I encountered a country in the first stages of its exodus experience of freedom. Lithuania,had been the first Soviet-occupied country to declare its° independence. The Sajudis ("Movement") Party sailed into power on a wave of public eupho- Barbara Valuckas SSND works in Pilgrim Ministries to support organi-zational journeys of people worldwide. This article, now slighdy revised, appeared originally in the Eastern Europe issue of LCWR Occasional Papers (March 1995). Her address is Pilgrim Ministries; 9 Academy Hill Road; Watertown, Connecticut 06795. E-mail in U.S.A.: MVV:K5 8 B@Prodigy.com. May-~ne 1995 353 Valuckas ¯ Lithuania ria about all the blessings that would come with freedom and a free market economy. No one then anticipated the long desert trek of turmoil and transition that lay ahead. The effects of five decades of brutal suppression of people and their nation would not dis-appear overnight. When I returned to Lithuania again in 1992 on my way to our general chapter in Rome, the rumblings of popular disillu-sionment had already achieved great momentum. In claiming their independence from Russia, Lithuanians had not fully antic-ipated the economic consequences of being cut off from Russian oil and other commodities. In changing from the ruble economy to one more related to Western currencies, people were jolted by the reality of Western prices. Shadow sides of capitalism were already making their appearance in the form of new unemploy-ment and homelessness; the presence of street beggars shocked people long unaccustomed to such realities. The simple people I met in the countryside expressed their desire to return to.the Egypt of economic security. They said, "At least under the Communists we had enough to eat, and we had heat." These unforeseen shortages of food and fuel helped to bring down the fledgling independence government and to sweep the Communists back as the majority party in Lithuania in the fall. This time, the Communists were not the forcible occupiers, but duly elected officials with a mandate from the people. Many Lithuanians were dazed by this outcome. They could not believe that they had voluntarily elected the same people whose power they had so recently thrown off. They felt stuck in the mud of their own confusion and ambivalence, even as they sought to take the first steps toward rebuilding their country. The rebuilding of every part of Lithuanian life was as daunt-ing a challenge as the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem after it had been totally destroyed. Within my own prayer I could feel the Leviticus jubilee invitation to return to one's ancestral home evolving into a more literal and compelling call. I found myself praying, along with Nehemiah (2:1-8), "If it please the king, and if you are satisfied with your servant, give me leave to go to Judah, to the city of my ancestors' tombs, and rebuild it." I prayed this prayer rather blindly because, from a practical point of view, it was not clear to me what I could contribute in Lithuania. Once again my imagination for myself was not up to God's imagina-tion for me. 354 Review for Religious Although all four of my grandparents had come from Lithuania and both of my parents spoke the language, I quickly moved from Lithuanian to English, as many second-generation children of immigrants do. Consequently, I did not know what I could do in Lithuania when my term as provincial gave way to a sabbatical year. I need not have wor-ried because, with little effort on my part, the doors flew open. After learning of my background in educa-tional television, Msgr. George Sarauskas, of the National Catholic Conference of Catholic Bishops Office to Aid Central and Eastern Europe, invited me to serve as a con-sultant to the newly created Catholic Television Center in Lithuania. In retrospect I can appreciate the loving providence of God, who picked up a thread from my profes-sional past and used it as a "leading string of love" (Hosea 11:4) to tug on my heart and my life, gently pulling it toward my ancestral home. Responding to this leading string, I reappeared in Lithuania in mid August 1993 for the first of two three-month periods of life and work with and for the Lithuanian people. From visitation to our SSND missions on other continents, I had learned the need to approach any kind of rebuilding as a humble learner. The Lithuanian people had to identify what needed rebuilding in the temple of their persons and their nation and how that rebuilding should proceed. My role had to be one of listening, support, and enablement. Sister Donna Steffan SC accompanied me for the first three weeks of my fall 1993 visit. Together we visited people in the cities and the countryside. We asked them to share with us their perceptions of Lithuania's current reality and to tell us what they most needed from the church. At first shyly and tentatively and then with growing trust, they revealed that one of their biggest needs was for people just to listen to their stories. The years of occupation had trained them not to trust anyone; as a result, most people kept their experiences and feelings locked up inside them-selves. They recognized a great need to unburden themselves. One woman described the effects of the occupation with the image in a distorting mirror that we in the West most often associate with the fun house in amusement parks. May-37une 1995 355 Valuckas ¯ Lithuania One woman described the effects of the occupation with the image in a distorting mirror that we in the West most often asso-ciate with the fun house in amusement parks. She said that every Lithuanian learned to live behind at least three faces. The first face was the "pro-Communist" face that one was obliged to show to one's employer and professional colleagues in order to keep one's job. The second face was the one shown to one's family and friends. Even this face had many subtle degrees corresponding to one's trust level. The third face was the one shown to oneself. My friend continued by saying that the overall effect of hav-ing to hide behind three different faces for such a long period of years was a gradual disintegration of the personality and a warp-ing of the soul. So, when Lithuanians look into the mirrors of their souls, it is like looking into a distorted mirror. What they see is not lovely but grotesque. It causes some people to go to con-fession often in the effort to "scrape their souls clean" and to receive constant reassurances of God's love and forgiveness of things they may have said or done behind the first face so as to assure their own survival or that of loved ones. This self-image of distortion was mentioned in one form or another by a number of people who described themselves and their country as "bent" in some way. It suggested to me an image of Lithuania as the bent-over woman described in the Scriptures. Like that woman, Lithuania has lost much blood in its tortured patriots and saints. One bishop, upon meeting me and hearing of my purpose in Lithuania, said, "Help us to stand up straight." Donna and I asked some of the parents with whom we visited if they had new hope for the future now that Lithuania had its independence. The most common reply was that these young and middle-aged couples viewed themselves as already having been "destroyed." If they expressed any hope at all, it was for their children. Many said that the years of occupation had forced them to live "like animals." In the stories of the people, we learned that during the occupation every dimension of human creativity was suppressed in the name of the "people." A carpenter could not design a new piece of furniture nor a dressmaker a new pattern unless the designs were approved by numerous offices in Moscow. The approval, in turn, depended upon the ability of the design to be replicated throughout the Soviet Union to preserve some stated ideal of socialist sameness. Eventually many people "forgot" how to think creatively and learned to do only what they were told. 356 Review for Religious I recently heard a radio interview with an American busi-nessman expressing his frustration with doing business in the for-mer Soviet republics. He said that, no matter what size boards he ordered for his building materials, the ones that were delivered were all the same size, the former Soviet standard size. Apparently the workers had lost the ability to imagine that boards could be cut to any other dimension. To me this was a powerful image of the damage that had been done to the minds and psyches of the people. This sense of damage to human creativity was reinforced by our visits to some of the museums in Lithuania. We were awed by the burst of Lithuanian creativity in music, art, literature and poetry, and sculpture during the brief period of national inde-pendence before the occupation. All of the exhibits seemed to me to come to an abrupt halt in the late 1940s. It was like applying to a whole nation the title of Etty Hillesum's book An Interrupted Life. What happened to all of that creativity for a half century? It appears that a lot of it went into the coordination of the under-ground resistance movements, including the underground church. Many Lithuanians, however, having become atheistic collabora-tors with the occupiers, used their energies to promote the pro-paganda machine. Still others turned their talents to the exploitation of people. After independence all of these forms of creativity continued, but in more open ways. The church, newly emerged from the underground, is using its creative energies to rebuild itself above ground. The collaborators are using their tal-ents at various levels of government, pursuing the old Communist agenda as well as their own self-aggrandizement while they are still in power. And the exploiters have emerged in the black market and in other criminal activities, that include an increase in violence. Some entrepreneurs opening private businesses receive almost instant demands for protection money. Resisters, if not murdered, find their new businesses destroyed. After many decades of being cut off from others, Lithuanians are eager to learn more about the rest of the world. Since most do not have the resources to travel, television becomes their win-dow on that world. The most popular television program in Lithuania today is the American soap opera "Santa Barbara." It is not clear to me if the story line is as important to the viewers as are the infinite clues to the first-world affluent lifestyle that May-j~ine 199Y 357 Valuckas ¯ Lithuania American viewers have come to take for granted. They notice that none of the characters have stainless steel teeth (as many Lithuanians do). They note the large living spaces with beautiful bathrooms, the gorgeous clothes and cars. I once gave a relative of mine some American magazines in a brown envelope, the kind with a small metal clasp. The whole family gathered around that envelope and examined the clasp in great detail. Eventually some-one said, "We saw one of these on Santa Barbara!" When the three weeks of Donna's visit had come to an end, we spent a day of prayer and theological reflection on the mean-ing of our experience together. One of the scriptural images that seemed to gather up those .first weeks of listening was the story of Ruth and Naomi. The unexpected loss in the experience of wid-owhood began that story. God seemed to have cut down their hopes, but in reality was leading them to a fulfillment of these hopes beyond their expectations. Ruth and Naomi chose to remain together as they journeyed into an unknown future. For Donna and me, Lithuania itself was like Ruth and Naomi. Its hopes for its own independence as a nation were ruthlessly cut down. But Lithuania is still in the middle of its story; the end-ing is not clear at all. Lithuania is still trying to nourish itself on the few stalks of grain dropped by reapers in the fields. We could also recognize the fidelity of Ruth and Naomi to each other in many of the Lithuanian people we had met: in the young family which remained faithful to their ill and old grandparents, in the young boy who chose to remain with his mother who was dying of tuberculosis, in the many priests, women religious, and lay people who chose to remain faithful to their religion during the long years of persecution. These choices were all the more coura-geous when one remembers that they were made in the teeth of efforts to break down all forms of fidelity, trust, and solidarity. We understood that we ourselves and others coming from outside the country and walking with the Lithuanian people were echoing Ruth's words "Your people shall be my people." We rec-ognized that this would imply a willingness to be with the Lithuanian people in ,their present experience of confusion and scarce resources; it would mean willingness to hold back from efforts to "answer" and "fix." In the end the Lithuanian people need to be the rebuilders of their own nation and church. It is a tricky thing to "accompany" a people without trying to control what they do. Another thread from my professional 358 Review for Religious past helped me in my own struggle to find a balance. While work-ing with an organization called Community Creativity before tak-ing up my ministry of community leadership, I learned how to elicit people's stories about their reality and to "mirror" these experiences to them in helpful ways. I learned that, if people can draw upon their own experiences as their base for learning and growth, they are more likely to see the rebuilding as their own. Over the course of the two three-month periods that I spent in Lithuania during my sabbatical year, I was able to use this "mir-roring" process with three different groups of people within the Lithuanian church: the staff of the Catholic Television Center, the catechists, and the women religious. After interviewing each member of the television center, I had a better sense of its short but significant corporate story. Like almost everything else in eastern Europe, church communica-tions had to jump from 0 to 10 in a very short time after the col-lapse of the Berlin wall. Church officials who had been forcibly silenced for five decades suddenly found themselves expected to speak--on national television--words.of meaning and hope to people who~ "like sheep without a shepher.d," desperately needed guidance as the structures.of their lives crumbled around them. It was a shock both for these church leaders and for the peo-ple to have to jump so suddenly from centrally controlled pro-paganda- oriented media to more democratic and truth-oriented forms. No one knew how to give or receive an opinion, and han-dling any diversity of thought posed real dilemmas. One of the first things that I was able to reflect to the staff of the Catholic Television Center was that, although people had technical skills, no one seemed to have a sense of what the mission of the center was. In the discussion that followed this observation, I learned that the whole concept of a mission statement was new to people whose entire lives had been bent toward purposes defined for them by the government. After much dialogue (which was another new experience in itself), we eventually were able to articulate a mission statement. The Catholic Television Center saw its mission as giving a voice to the once silent Lithuanian church and educating the Lithuanian people about the world church. These purposes, while clear, were fraught with ambivalence. The Lithuanian church survived under-ground only by the exercise of strong central authority that oper-ated largely in secret. There were no group discussions; there May-d~une 1995 359 Valuckas ¯ Lithuania was no consensus building. Information was passed from one per-son to another singly. Control over information was essential to survival. Given this history, It can be quite threatening to provide the .Lithuanian church with a voice Consonant with the Vatican II understandifig of the church as the people of God. The Lithuanian church grapples with questions of how much diversity of thought and'opinion should be expressed in the media and how much should be kept "secret" or even suppressed. There is also ambiva-lence regarding the life of the church in other parts of the world. On the one hand, there is a great eageyness to see how Catholics in other parts of the world live and worship. On the other hand, there is a certain suspicion of theologies, spiritaialities, and rituals coming from other parts of the world and a conse-quenttemptation to control what Lithuanian Catholics are allowed to learn about. With radio, television, fax, and e-mail increasingly available in Lithuania, the democratization 6f infor-mation that is a part of mass communications poses dilemmas for a church only emergin/~ from the underground after years of iso-lation from news about developments in the life of the church. The catechists I visited in each bf the six dioceses .of Lithuania echoed these challenges and voiced their own as they, too, jumped from 0 to 10. When Lithuania became independent, church lead-ers faced a choice: either to begin religious insti'uctlon immedi-ately with ill-prepared teachers without any materials to work with or to do adequate preparation first but thereby risk losing the present instructional opportunity altogether in the quite possi-ble event of reannexation by Russia. They chose the first option. When I visited the catechetical centers in each diocese, cat-echists spoke of the great difficulties they were encountering as they relied on their memories of decades-old religious instruc-tion and tried to pass these fragments on to a new generation of youth with no current materials to help or guide them. Eventually the six dioceses succeeded in collaborating to produce a common catechetical curriculum and in translating some materials from Italy and Austria into the Lithuanian language. The catechetical centers were also. interested in working with the Catholic Television Center to produce s'0me good in'service materials for the catechists and some interesting lessons for the students. When I had completed my visitation of the six dioceses, I wrote a report mirroring the great gifts and the serious challenges 360 Review for Religious I had observed; I distributed it to the directors of the catecheti-cal centers. They were astounded at my report for reasons that amazed me. '"You told the truth," they said. They were not accus-tomed to that. In other professional settings during the occupa-tion, they were accustomed to "inspectors" who came with the primary purpose of criticizing what-ever they saw and who wrote reports that had no correspondence with the reality of their visits. Because of such experiences, the catechists told me, they had awaited my visits with a mix-ture of dread and anxiety. They were flabbergasted to read a report that not only reflected what they had said, but aqtually offered observations and reflections that they found helpful. This was a totally new experience for them. For my part I was astonished to learn how much they had accom-plished, fueled only by zeal, °with scant resources and very meager pay. They had even experienced outright deri. sion from atheistic teachers and stu~- dents. For me, these courageous and selfles~ catechists enfleshed the stories Like many of the other prisoners, this sister fashioned for herself a tiny rosary of hard crumbs of black bread strhng together by a needle and thread. Hid under the lining of her coat, it was never discovered. from the Acts of the Apostles describing the church's early efforts to spread the Good News in the face of extraordinary limitations and challenges from within and without. This difference in experience was one of the many times that I imaged myself as being on the other side'of a chasm from the Lithuanian people. Ways of being that I took for granted were totally out of their lived experience; their faith and courage in the face of adversity were often beyond my ability to compre-hend: For example, the director of ofle of the catechetical centers told me that her entire family was taken away from her and sent to Siberia when she was a small child. Spared this fate because of her age, she was put into the care of some women who provi-dentially were underground nuns. It was through their example that she grew in the faith that sustained her through the loss of her family and ultimately led her to leave her post as a university pro- May-June 1995 361 Valuckas ¯ Lithuania fessor and accept the bishop's invitation to direct a catechetical center, The women religious were the third group of people I was privileged to accompany and mirror. The major superiors had been made aware of the interest which the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) and other organizations had in their welfare, and they were eager to talk about their needs. They, too, had their stories to tell. One of these major superiors' told me that almost all of her early religious life was spent in prison. The prisoners were body-searched every day for any signs or symbols of religion. Like many of the other prisoners, this sister fashioned for herself a tiny rosary of.hard crumbs of black bread strung together by a needle and thread. Hid under the lining o.f her coat, it was never discovered. She still has that rosary; When she showed it to me, she said that her prison .experience was one of the most powerful God-experiences of her life. This sister and the other major superiors echoed what many others had said about needing to tell their stories and to experience healing of their memories. The sisters asked for resource people to come from America and other countries to help them psychologically, theologically, and spiritually. They were eager to learn about developments in theology, prayer, and spirituality in the last several decades of their "interrupted lives." They also expressed a strong desire to grow in leadership skills and in the skills related to the develop-ment of community life and ministry. In spring 1994, Sisters Carolyn Mruz OSF and Joan Klaas CPPS, both former general superiors, ioined me in Lithuania for the express purpose of providing input in some of the requested areas. Toward the end of their six,week stay, the sisters asked us to give them a day of recollection. When we inquired as to the usual length of such dhys, they replied, "We don't know: we've never had one before." Another chasm. In their final evaluation the sisters told us that.one of th~ best things about their gatherings with us, in addition to the input, was the opportunity they had to meet one ~another across com-munities. For most, this was their first experience of an inter-congregational gathering. During the years of occupation, when it was not possible to assemble, the sisters were not always sure who were members of their own congregations, much less mem'- bers of other congregations. When they did meet each other for the first time in spring 1994, it gave them great joy to discover 362 Review for Religious that they had so much in common. They learned that sometimes they were their own best listeners to each other's stories. And I, after ending each three-month period in Lithuania, came away feeling not only like Ruth with Naomi, but also like Mary staying with Elizabeth "about three months." Somewhere in those encounters and in spite of the chasms between cultures, languages, and experiences, there was a leaping together toward the life that is lived at the Center of Being, whether of the nation as a whole or of each person. Finally, I return to Nehemiah, who heard God's call to help in the rebuilding of the temple: "Then I said to them, 'You see the trouble we are in: Jerusalem is in ruins, its gates have been burnt down. Come, let us rebuild the walls of Jerusalem and suffer this indignity no longer.' And I told them how the kindly favor of God had been with me, and also repeated the words the king had said to me. 'Let us start!' they exclaimed, 'Let us build',; and with willing hands they set about the good work" (Ne 2:17-18). Vignette The windows of the soul are clouded by hunger, and deeper wounds shrouded from our sight lie buried in the dark night. Foul birds of greed peck at the seeds of war And drop them to be sown in blood from Rwanda to Zaire. Martha Wickham ASC May-.~une 1995 363 ELIZABETH V. ROACH Community Today-- Idol? Icon? Gift? "I could do ministry without becoming a religious, but I want community," the new candidate says. Studies tell us that young people entering religious congregations today are looking for community. Formation directors work hard to provide healthy community experiences for them. Later, superiors general try to assign them to "good" commu-nities. Not only candidates but also men and women in religious life many years are approaching personnel direc-tors seeking "life-giving" communities. All this leaves lit-tle doubt that community has high importance for religious. If one thing is going well with us, it is the pri-ority we are giving to community. To question this trend might seem, if not audacious, perhaps impertinent. I believe, however, that a need exists for a closer look at the almost icon or idol status that com-munity enjoys today. My questions lie in the following areas: (1) In what "soil" did the present status of commu-nity grow? (2) Is it suffering from soil contaminants? (3) What are the gospel parameters for community? If you think I am about to come up with the answers, stop reading now. Then again, if you would like to delve into these questions, accompany me in my meditative mean-dering as I reflect on some questions that pebble the path. Elizabeth V. Roach MM works with three other Maryknoll sis-ters in a settlement area (40,000 people, no priest) on the edge of Panama City. Her address is Maryknoll Sisters; Aptdo. 813- 0343; Tocumen, Republic of Panama. 364 Review for Religious The "Ecological" History of Community Today Polluted streams mar our world. We breathe contaminated air. We read food labels to see what preservatives we are exposing ourselves to. We wonder what is in the water we drink. Why not investigate the "ecological" history of community? Where did community's current popularity grow and develop? Is there need for soil examination? Do we need to protect an endangered speci.es of community? I wonder if some of our present practice has developed, not from gospel roots, but from our environment of consumerism? Whether it is legislation bought by lobbyists, military secrets sold for profit, commerce with the fruit of a woman's womb, or designer drugs, we are a nation of consumers. Listen to us, the words we use. We speak of "mental-health consumers," "spin doctors," and "image" pro-ducers. This is the environment we live in. The nightly television news-cast would convince any visiting Martian that in our society just about anything can be bought. What has that got to do with our present practice of community? Maybe nothing, but similar remarks used to be made when ecologists questioned the purity of our lakes and streams. They were called alarmists. They were said to be exaggerating the dangers of industrial waste. As we seek commu-nity, it might not be amiss to ask how much the consumer envi-ronment we live in is affecting our practice and our working model of community. Maybe we need a quick inventory of our recent past. Even a brief glance at the 1960s shows that many people lived in a rigidly structured world. (When the protests for civil rights and against the Vietnam War began, many could not listen to what was being said. They saw rowdy, carelessly dressed, long-haired people as simply out of line.) Marriage was the order of the day. A "significant other" was something new. Rights of homo-sexuals and lesbian relationships were not acceptable conversa- As we seek community, it might not be amiss to ask how much the consumer environment we live in is affecting our practice and our working model of community. May-3~une 1995 365 Roach ¯ Community Today tion topics. Women who had babies outside of marriage were "unwed" mothers. There were jobs for men and jobs for women. Women were housekeepers, wives, and, yes, diaper washers. Police and soldiers were men. People who bought things were customers not consumers. One had property rights, but consumer rights, sexual-preference rights, and victim rights were unheard of. Abortion was illegal. Body parts, sperm, and wombs were not yet on the market. Spirituality and retreats had to do with religious practice, not feminist circles or marketing seminars. Between the '60s and the '90s came the "me" decade. We are no longer in the '60s. Social consciousness in the '60s meant advo-cacy for the poor, the disadvantaged, the needy. Now, according to Congressman Gingrich, social responsibility means legislation to relieve the taxpayer of politically burdensome aspects of soci-ety. We who live on the edge between modernity and post-modernity may be too caught up in contemporary tensions to examine the ingredients of our community cake mix, but uncon-scious consumption of contaminating elements may cause unex-pected illness. Our search for community is taking place in a world where repression of sexual and other urges is no longer the problem. We have entered a deconstructed world where issues of individ-ual rights versus community rights provoke new conflicts. "Gingrich thinking" is but one example of.this reality. Notice the differing opinions about the trials of the Mel6ndez brothers, Susan Smith, and O.J. Simpson. At the same time, violence, crime, child abuse, elderly abuse, and the "maybe we need to open more orphanages" mentality prevails. "Protection" is the buzz word of the 1990s, whether it refers to protected sex, more police in the streets, or a balanced-budget amendment. In the case of the United States, is it creeping into policies and procedures aboutwhom we will integrate or isolate according to how they fit or do not fit our concept of community? This is the environment we live in. Our concept of commu-nity may be, if not corrupted, at least affected by it. In more than one ~workshop, I have heard presenters say that, when we are changing ministry or community, we should take time to imagine ourselves in the situation and then ask ourselves, "Does it feel good?" That is the same question I ask when I try on a new pair of shoes. Given the psychological healthiness of reflecting on how a 366 Review for Religious change of ministry or community will affect us, what criteria shall we use? Is community just another consumer item? Is it like buy-ing a winter coat, a new car? What are the gospel parameters for community? Have you said or heard any of your friends say, "I have a min-istry, now I'm looking for a community"? Is community just another item on our shopping list, something to be acquired? How gospel-oriented is our practice? New Testament Parameters for Community Another glimpse of what we are about in our practice of com-munity might be gotten by filling out the application form that personnel directors ask religious to complete when they seek a change of ministry or community. Some congregations require these applicants to provide an evaluation from the community where they have been living. Applicants are also expected to state their expectations of the receiving community. The new com-munity's scrutiny leads to acceptance or rejection of the appli-cant. Try filling out one of those forms for Jesus as he hung on the cross (or for one of the apostles, or for Paul). What kind of com-munity evaluation could we submit for Jesus? He was complet-ing a contract and about to move into a new ministry situation. How would the evaluation of his recent community experience read? Would it say he took initiatives not supported by his local community? How would it describe his being abandoned by his colleagues? How would you rate him: (1) on following the con-sensus? (2) on his ability to (a) dialogue with Peter, his confrere? and (b) with local church authorities? (3) on his initiative (a) in going up to Jerusalem? and (b) in going to the garden that Thursday night? (What would you say if you had to write a community eval-uation of Peter, the one who failed so miserably in a community crisis?) Would you have approved of Jesus' "cross" initiative? Would you have questioned his discernment process? Would you have suggested further discernment and perhaps made him miss his hour? (Remember that John and Peter, his close friends, seemed a bit confused about his plans and even about what he was saying at the Last Supper.) May-J~ne 1995 367 Roach ¯ Community Today Palm Sunday Communities or Easter Communities Still another way to reflect on community would be to ask ourselves if we are confusing the group of disciples, those who hung out with Jesus before Good Friday, with the communities that flowered after the resurrection and Pentecost. The crowd that walked with Jesus before that Friday, the Palm Sunday community (apostles and disciples included), seems to have had many characteristics that are considered important for today's communities. Notice that Peter, James, and John were friends. Philip invited his friend Nathaniel to join the group. Does that ring a familiar bell? Is that a way of being integrated into our communities today? Do friends invite friends? In the episode about sitting at Jesus' right and left hand (Mk 10:35-45), similarities with current practice are even more evi-dent. That group looks like they are having a "community day." The apostles and disciples who would soon be walking with Jesus on Palm Sunday had together sailed the Sea of Galilee, hiked to Jerusalem, prayed, and shared ministry experiences. Was that an emergency house meeting they called to confront James and John on their inappropriate power seeking and failure to dialogue before lobbying for the first places? This, after the many excellent workshops they had attended!--workshops on ministry, mission, spirituality, interpersonal relations, theology, and Scripture, and all conducted by the best of presenters. So what happened? Why did that group .of apostles run for it when Jesus stretched out his arms on the cross? All their systems failed. Neither the community days nor the hiking, the theolog-ical reflection, the personal and community prayer, the work-shops, or even the friendship they had with Jesus held them together on that Friday--except for John and Mary and a few other women. That scene, I think, offers an essential .clue to the mystery of what Christian community is. While numbers of people had walked and talked with Jesus, they had not become a community. They may have been a support group: they did meet regularly. They may have been a club: mem-bership was limited and had its requisites. They may have been an interest group or a cooperative, for they participated in the same mission. But they were not yet a community. This they demon-strated on Thursday night when they scattered upon discovering that the big C Jesus was talking about was not community but the cross. 368 Revie~ for Religious Only Mary, John, and the women had discovered that the acid test of Christian community is the permanent, nonnegotiable fol-lowing of Jesus to his death. The hard realities that Jesus himself faced on Thursday and Friday, the aloneness, the abandonment, the dying, are essential elements that must be accepted, lived, and embraced if we are ever to become Easter and Pentecost com-munities. It is not just the warm, fuzzy feeling of moments when we are all together, the consensus evident, celebrating with song and symbol. It is also those dark, fearful, lonely moments of truth-telling in our communities, the utter .aloneness of difficult deci-sion making, the moments described in 2 Timothy 4:9-22, when Paul says "all" deserted him; "no one appeared on my behalf, but the Lord stood by me." It is also those other terrible moments when we~ like Mary and John, stand by our sisters and brothers totally incapable of under-standing .the why of a situation. Both reflection and personal expe-rience lead me to believe that, with-out following Jesus on the way of the cross, we may become interest groups, assemblies of friends, or financially cost-effective entities, but we have not the shadow of a chance of becoming Easter and Pentecost communities. Just look at the Easter community, that community huddled together in fear, in terror for their lives, humiliated by their sinfulness. Has any recent applicant to your community or mine said they want to join us because they are fearful or ~inful? And, if they did, would we accept them or recommend therapy? Yet it is the Easter community, terrified, humiliated, utterly scandalized by the cross, who discovered Jesus in their midst, their sins forgiveh, and their hearts overwhelmed with the joy of his peace. They knew why they were joyful. They could say Jesus is risen and truly here because they knew this;was the same Jesus who died on the cross. Peter's cheeks, the legend tells us, were fur-rowed by tears. Mary had held Jesus' bloodless corpse in her arms. John had stood by the cross. Has any recent applicant to your community or mine said they want to join us because they are fearful or sinful? And, if they did, would we accept them or recommend therapy? May-j~une 199Y 369 Roach ¯ Community Today That Easter community did not come to their consensus by applying the correct interpersonal dynamics for good communi-cation. They did not learn to hang together through attendance at workshops or by hiring a facilitator. While all these may help and no doubt do, there is no way they will ever substitute for the big C on which Jesus built the Easter and Pentecost community or the later communities of Acts. In Acts the community is a motley crowd. They invite all sorts to join them, magiciansand soldiers, preachers and widows. Their criteria did not come from enneagram numbers and Myers- Briggs profiles. (Had these been available, they might have helped resolve interpersonal conflicts--and these communities did include great differences of personality and lifestyle.) The important thing for them was willingness to lay down their lives because of their belief in Jesus' Way. The joy of those communities came not from something available in Greek or Roman markets, but the gift of Jesus' Spirit filling them with overwhelming peace and joy. That peace was pure gift. It happened when they followed Jesus' Way, the paschal way of death and resurrection. In apostolic and early Christian times, Christian community grew'and developed when followers of Jesus came together fear-ful for their lives, humbly repentant of sinfulness, bearing one another's burdens, and willing to die as witnesses to Jesus' living presence. They believed that Jesus, who died for our sins, had risen from the dead and was~truly here. They celebrated this in their gatherings. Only through this paschal living will our com-munities, too, become centers of peace, joy, and good news for all the world. 370 Review for Religious DENNIS J. BILLY Called to Community ~ ~[ . ommunity~:P is an intrinsic element of the call to disci- ~ pleship." A statement such as this normally elicits little disagreement and little, if any, controversy. Whatever our par-ticular calling in life (religious, priestly, or lay), most of us rec-ognize the importance of some Eind of community to accompany us on our journey of faith. Simple agreement, however, does not always evoke profound understanding; it may even keep us from taking a deeper look at the meaning of our closest assumptions. How many of us, for example, actually understand our call to "community" as something at the Very center of our response to God? How many of us think of life in community as something intrinsic to our relationship to God, as something that actually leads us more deeply into the mystery of who God is? And how many of us actually advert to these ideas in the day-to-day cir-cumstances of our lives? Reflection on the nature of our call to community can enhance our vision of what our communal disci-pleship means and how it is to be lived out in daily practice. Vision and Call Everyone needs a vision in life. Call it a dream or a purpose; call it a goal or a sense of direction; call it a founding myth or a narrative of origins--whatever you call it, we all need something in our lives to help us make sense out of our experience and share it with others. One purpose of Christian community is to keep such a vision before our eyes and thereby encourage us to take Dennis J. Billy CSSR, author of fifteen articles for this journal over the course of ten years, writes ag.ain from Rome. His address is Accademia Mfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Rome, Italy. May-June 199Y 371 Billy * Called toCommunity steps to live it in our everyday lives. It reminds us of the larger context of our lives and keeps us in touch with the traditions that have shaped us and to a large degree have made us who we are. It challenges us to confront the dark side of our human experience and to remain steadfast in our response to God's call in our lives. Communities come in different sizes and shapes. They do so because they respond to different needs within the church and reflect the vast variety of God's creation. Families and base com-munities, parishes and religious congregations, secular institutes and third-order sodalities all exist for a purpose and flourish when they respond well to the needs they seek to fill. Community is not something peripheral to God's call, as if its purpose were only to provide an atmosphere conducive to private personal spiritual growth or to respond to a need in our anthropological makeup. Christian community can and does provide for such things. It is meant, however, to be and to do much more. Life in community is intrinsically related to our journey into the mystery of God and is part and parcel of our Christian vocation. Community life loses its sense of purpose and conviction when it is taken out of the context of a call. Because the Christian vocation leads people into the Divine Mystery, it is inherently communal. Christian community and Christian vocation enjoy a close, reciprocal rela-tionship. It is impossible to have one without the other. By the term "vocation" I refer not to the more qualified sense of the term as a specific state of life in the church (that is, reli-gious, priestly, or lay), but to the call to intimate friendship that God extends to everyone, believer and nonbeliever alike. This call to beatitude (or to the "beatific vision," as previous genera-tions of theologians have phrased it) extends to all people, regard-less of their faith, nationality, race, or position in life. It involves the capacity all of us have to be lifted up through the influence of grace and to see God face-to-face. This mystical vocation which all of us share is sustained through life in community. Because God's nature is inherently communal, our call to divine friendship is worked out and perfected through a life lived with and ori-ented towards others. The Trinitarian Community The Christian tradition acclaims God as the perfect commu-nity of love. God--who has conceived of us, who has created us, 372 Review for Religious and who holds us in being--relates to us in a manner that images his nature. God, who is love, relates to us in love and cannot do otherwise. This is not the place to expound the vast intricacies of the doctrine of the Trinity. Suffice it to say that, however we describe this mystery of intimate social relations (whether through the traditional formulation of Father/Son/Spirit or through recent formulations such as Creator/Redeemer/Sanctifier or Ground/ Other/Bond), the mutual indwelling of persons must somehow be presented within the very nature of the Godhead. Although the mys-tery of God is inexhaustible and no single formulation can fully convey its meaning and depth, revelation teaches us that God is communal by nature, a single being of three clearly differentiated relations. When God is viewed in this man-ner, union with God becomes for us a never-ending journey into the intimate community of divine rela-tionships. All of this may sound rather abstract and unrelated to the daily concerns of life in Christian com-munity. To be sure, lofty ideas about the Trinity may'seem to have little practical value when it comes to the nitty-gritty tensions and concerns of communal living. We should not forget, how-ever, that the Trinity rests at the summit of the hierarchy of truths and, in fact, is the ultimate reality from which all else flows. The Trinity is the quintessential fact. It is not simply a metaphor, or a purely human construct, or a projectiqn of our deepest hopes onto a divine plane. It is an element of God's self-disclosure to humanity which, in its doctrinal formulation, has the status of a divinely revealed truth. The intimate community who is God and whom we call the Trinity is the beginning and end, the alpha and omega, of all things. It is the goal toward which we tend, the force that directs our lifelong activity on this planet, the reality that draws us to our final destiny. Life in Christian community is the primary way in which God prepares us to participate in the mystery of triune love. If it is true, as St. Augustine and many of the medievals thought, that Because God's nature is inherently communal, our call to divine friendship is worked out and perfected through a life lived with and oriented towards others. May-y-une 199Y 373 Billy ¯ Called to Community God has left traces or vestiges of the divine nature imprinted in the very fabric of creation, then one may point to life in Christian community as an important instance where a person can discover a reflection of God's hidden presence in the world. It would be presumptuous to expect that any of us would be ready or even capable of sharing in the intimate relations of the divine nature without a long period of preparation, Most of us will need to be led, step-by-step, along the long and narrow way of the Lord. Christian community, one might say, is the fiery forge in which God tempers our personalities and gets them ready to share more deeply in the fullness of the divine community. It stretches our character and challenges us to live lives that increasingly take others into account. To use an example from the Catholic mysti-cal tradition, it purges us of our imperfections, illumines us along our journey through life, and eventually brings us to a state of union with God. Life in community helps us to discover and become our truest, deepest selves; it naturally overflows in our relationship with others; and it shows us precisely what it means to be friends of God. Whenever we participate in community, we are really experiencing a vestige of God's triune love. The deeper we enter into it, the more we prepare ourselves for our relation-ship with God both now and in the life to come. Such is the role of Christian community, otherwise known as koinonia, that fel-lowship of God's friends we call "church." Given to us by Jesus himself and forever walking in his way, this circle of close disci-ples perpetuates itself by forging genuine human relationships wherever it goes. The Way of Jesus If the Trinitarian basis of Christian community is still too abstract a notion to give us practical guidance in day-to-day liv-ing, a more concrete example comes from the life of Jesus himself. A careful reading of the Gospels shows that he was always calling people to fellowship, especially those who were outcasts from the respectable social enclaves of his day. Prostitutes and tax collec-tors, the poor and the possessed, the blind and the lame were all welcomed by him and invited to partake in the friendship he shares with the Father. His gathering of disciples, his preaching through parables, his emphasis 6n table fellowship, his institu-tion of the Eucharist in the context of a meal, all reveal his deep 374 Review for Religious concern to provide others with a sense of God's gratuitous love and care for them. Jesus reached out to others simply because they were children of the Father and in need of God's friendship. He needed no other reason to call us his friends (Jn 15:15). Jesus' call to fellowship continues to this day. Now, as then, it is the perfect expression of the Son's intimate love of the Father. His fourfold movement of (i) entering our world (in the incar-nation), (2) giving himself away completely (to the point of dying for us), (3) becoming our very food and nourishment (in the Eucharist), and (4) being the source of our hope (in the res-urrection) is a concrete expression of the same selfless giving that characterizes the divine Trinitarian relations. Jesus' love for humanity reveals to us an even deeper love which he shares with his Father. This intimate relationship enables him to listen to the Father's concerns as a loyal and faithful Son. His humble response mani-fests the self-diffusive nature of God's love and discloses the underlying reason for the entire Christ event. Jesus' life provides us with an ideal vision of what life in community should emulate. Just as Christ entered our world and gave himself away completely, to the A careful reading of the Gospels shows that Jesus was always calling people to fellowship, especially those who were outcasts from the respectable social enclaves of his day. point of becoming nourishment and a source of hope for us, so we are called, both individually and in community, to enter the var-ious worlds of people around us and to give ourselves to them in a manner corresponding to Christ's sacrificial offering of him-self, to the point that we too become nourishment for them and a source of life-giving hope. This calling reveals to us the funda-mental meaning of our Christian identity. It' is accomplished not by ourselves alone, but by our cooperating with Christ working in us and influencing us by the grace of his Spirit. As might be expected, it is in the Eucharist that this process of divinization takes on its most concrete and visible form. There we gather as "church" around the table of the Lord and pray to the Father through the Son and in the Spirit. There we celebrate the fel-lowship of God's friends by reenacting Jesus' last meal on earth in its mystical identity with his sacrificial death the following day. May-3~ne 1995 375 Billy ¯ Called to Community There we welcome the presence of the risen Lord not only in our hearts and in our midst, but even in what we eat and drink. There we~celebrate the gift of "God among us" and recognize in the breaking of the bread that the Lord's vocation, like our own, is concerned with our becoming other Christs. Practical Realities These Trinitarian and Christological bases for life in com-munity do not of themselves remove the obstacles that often get in the way of our growth in the Spirit. The vision of what we can become and of what we are called to live is blocked time and time again by the fickle and obtuse human heart. As members of Christ's body, we recognize our divine calling to share in God's love and to carry on Christ's mission through time. We also rec-ognize, however, that human limitations and purely self-centered concerns often prevent us from living up to our noble aspirations. Sin in its various analogues--original, social, personal--distracts us from our mission and leads us into unholy compromises that sunder our vision and detach the remains of it from the practical realities of daily life. What follows are ten of the common diffi-culties communities face in their attempt to live out the implica-tions of their call. 1. Lack of Vision. Call it a lack of faith, a refusal to delve beneath the surface of things, an inability to see the close con-nection between the lives we live and the beliefs we espouse-- whatever you call it, a Christian community can easily get out of touch with its charism or very reason for existence. Vision. is a matter of both head and heart; minimal intellectual assent to the values and goals that originally called the community into exis-tence is not enough. Vision must seize the imagination of the members and generate in them a heartfelt desire to realize the community's objectives in their present situation. For this rea-son, a Christian community always needs inspired dreamers to keep the community's, founding vision in the forefront of its con-sciousness and prudent leaders to interpret this vision amid the practical exigencies of daily life. If the vision is not somehow kept bright and clear, the community loses its focus, dissipates its ener-gies, and eventually goes out of existence. 2. Dyoqtnctional Structures. Every community needs structures for its own good and the good of its members. Structures give 376 Review for Religious the community stability and enable it to function for a long time. Structures, however, can be a curse. If the community is not care-ful, its structures can in time lose their relevance and then inhibit the ways in which its members relate. The structures become dys-functional and deprive the community of the tranquillity it needs to live and do its work. Every community, therefore, needs to examine its structures periodically and change those that now are superflu-ous or needlessly obstruct the mem-bers' lives. Siflce there is only one perfect community (the Holy Trinity itself), communities should not be surprised to find some dysfunctional relating in their internal organization. The goal here should be to remove or minimize structures that are irrele-vant or cause some har

Issue 32.5 of the Review for Religious, 1973. ; Review Jot 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 (~) 1973 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor September 1973 Volume 32 Number 5 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, SJ.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Documents on the Holy Year Paul VI Given here are five documents in chronological order concerning the Holy Year. The English text is that given in the English language weekly edition of Osservatore romatzo. OUR LADY AND THE HOLY YEAR (MAY 30, 1973) You know about the Holy Year. It begins in the local Churches on the forthcoming feast of Pentecost. It aims at being a period of spiri[ual and moral renewal, and at finding its characteristic expression in reconciliation, that is, in the recomposition of order, of which Christ is the principle, in the depths of the consciences of individual souls, the order of every man with God, the order of every human relationship in the harmony of com-munity sentiments, in justice, concord, charity, peace. Prophetic Moment The Holy Year should be a kind of prophetic moment, Messianic awakening, Christian maturity of civilization, which sometimes had its ideal intuition in the poetry of the world, even secular poetry. What does the ancient and well-known prophecy of Virgil say, for example?--you young people, fresh from school, will remember it: "Magnus ab integro saeculorum nascitur ordo" (Buc. IV); his wa~ alyrical inspiration; ours would like to be one of those conscious and ~ollective efforts which produce, in the Church and in the world, a step upwa(ds, a sign of Christian progress, a break through on the plane of humanity imbued with the life-bringing Spirit of the kingdom of God. Is ours a dream? An ideal, certainly, but it must not be an empty, unreal one. Difficult, certainly; and for us, men of little faith, a demand that is beyond our strength. To renew the spiritual and moral energies of the Church, and consequently, or concurrently, those of our society, is a" 961 962 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 courageous aspiration, which makes tangible to us, if nothing else, the necessity of a superior, extrinsic assistance, but near to us, accessible to us, a compassionate, affectionate assistance already marked out in a general plan of goodness and mercy. Such a plan that must needs exist, if it is true, as it is true, that mankind is called, freely but surely, to a destiny of salvation. What assistance? What can be the help that enables us to dare, to hope for the aims of the Holy Year? Who can obtain for us the marvelous result which, following the logical demands of the Council, we have proposed? Humble, Glorious Queen It is the Blessed Virgin, beloved sons, Holy Mary, the Mother of Christ the Savior, the Mother of the Church, our humble and glorious Queen. Here there opens in front of us a great theological panorama, char-acteristic of Catholic doctrine, in which we see how the divine plan of salvation, offered to the world by the one mediator between God and men, efficacious by His own power, Christ Jesus (see 1 Tim 2: 5; Heb 12:24), is carried out with human cooperation, marvelously associated with the divine work (see H. de Lubac, M~d. sur l'Egl., pp. 241 ft.). And what human cooperation has been chosen in the history of our Christian destinies, first in function, dignity and efficiency, not purely instrumental and physical, but as a predestined, though free and perfectly docile factor, if not that of Mary? (see Lumen gentium, 56). Here there is no end to what could be said about the Blessed Virgin; for us, after firmly grasping the doctrine that places her at the center of the redeeming plan, first and, in a certain sense, indispensable beside Christ our Savior, it will be enough to recall and affirm how the renewing outcome of the Holy Year will depend on the superlative assistance of the Blessed Virgin. We need her help, her intercession. We must put on our program a particular cult for the Virgin Mary, if we wish the historico-spiritual event for which we are preparing to reach its real purposes. Need of Marian Cult Now we will merely condense in a twofold recommendation the advantage of this Marian cult to which we entrust so many of our hopes. The first recommendation is a fundamental one: we must. know the Madonna better as the authentic and ideal model of redeemed humanity. Let us study this limpid creature, this Eve without sin, this daughter'of God, in whose innocent, stupendous perfection, the creative, original, intact thought of God is mirrored. Mary is human beauty, not only aesthetic, but essential, ontological, in synthesis with divine Love, with goodness and humility, with the spirituality and the clear-sightedness of the "Magnificat," She is the Virgin, the Mother in the purest and most genuine sense; shb is the Woman clothed with the sun (see Apoc 12:1 ), in beholding whom our Documents on" the Holy Year / 963 eyes must be dazzled, so often offended and blinded as they are by the profaned and profaning images of the pagan and licentious environment by which we are surrounded and almost attacked. Our Lady is the sublime "type" not only of the creature redeemed by Christ's merits, but also the "type" of humanity on its pilgrim way in faith. She is the figure of the Chur(h, as St. Ambrose calls her (In Lc. II, 7; P.L. 15, 1555); and St. Augustine presents her to catechumens: "Figuram in se sanctae Ecclesiae demonstrat" (De Symb. 1, P.L. 40, 661). If we have our eyes fixed on Mary, the blessed, we will be able to reconstitute in ourselves the line and the structure of the renewed Church. Pray to Mary And the second recommendation is ~ao less important: we must have confidence in. recourse to the intercession of the Blessed Virgin. We must pray to her, invoke her. She is admirable in herself, she is lovable to us. As in the Gospel (see Jn 2:3 ff.), she intervenes with her divine Son, and obtains from Him miracles that the ordinary :course of events would not admit. She is kind, she is powerful. She knows human needs and sorrows~ We must renew our devotion to the Blessed Virgin (see Lumen gentium, 67), if we wish to obtain the Holy Spirit and be sincere followers of Christ Jesus. May her faith (Lk 1:45) lead us to the reality of the gospel and help us to celebrate properly the coming Holy Year. With our Apostolic Blessing. LETTER TO HOLY YEAR COMMITTEE (MAY 31, 1973) To His Eminence Cardinal Maximilien de Furstenberg President of the Central Committee for the Holy Year Lord Cardinal, As the official beginning of that vast movement of spiritual renewal, which will have its climax in Rome in 1975, .is on Sunday 10 June, the solemnity of Pentecost, we wish to set forth briefly to you, Lord Cardinal, whom we have made the head of the Central Committee for the Holy Year what are the aims we have in mind with this initiative, what spirit we would like to see prevail in those who respond to our invitation, and what fruits we hope can be gathered with the grace of the Holy Spirit in whose name and in whose, light we are now setting out. As we declared from our very first announcement, on 9 May last [see the text in Review ]or Religious, 1973, pp. 728-30] with the Jubilee we propose the renewal of man b.nd his reconciliation with God, which take place above all in depth, in the interior sanctuary, where conscience is called to bring about its conversibn, or "metanoia," by means of faith and repentance (see Mk 1 : 15 ), and to aim at the fullness of charity. 964 / Review Ior. Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 God Himself,. infinitely merciful, after redeeming the world by means of Jesus Christ His Son, calls all men, none excluded, to pa.rticip.ate in the fruits of redemption (see 1 Tim 2:4) and intervenes with His Holy Spirit to operate salvation in them (see Rom 8:10 ft.). Strengthening the Bonds of Faith and Charity The Church is convinced that only from this interior operation can be derived also the reconciliation between men, as the social dimension embrace all sectors and levels of life, in relations between individuals, families, groups, categories, nations; to become, as far as is possible for man's frailty and the imperfection of earthly institutions, a ferment of peace and universal unity. She undertakes, therefore, to bring it about that the force of the redemp-tion wrought by Christ should strengthen in the faithful, in dioceses, in parishes, in religious communities and in other centers of Christian life and apostolate, as well as in the Churches separated from us up to now, the bonds of faith and charity in the Blood of Christ (see Col 1:20). The Pentecost of grace will thus be able to become also the Pentecost of the new brotherhood. This is the spirit we hope to see flourish in the whole celebration of the Holy Year. Therefore we trust that the value of penitential practices will be redis-covered, as a sign and way of grace, as a commitment for the deep renewal which receives its full efficacy in the sacrament of penance, to be used and administered according to the provisions of the Church, for resumption by the individual and the community of progress along the way of salvation (see Acts 16:17). It seems to us that the expression, the occasion, and, as it were, the synthesis of these practices, which will have their completion in the celebra-tion of the Holy Eucharist, can be the pilgrimage which in the authentic tradition of Christian ascetism has always been 'carried out for reasons of piety and expiation. Today, too, it can be inspired by these motives, both when it takes place in forms more similar to those of the ancient pilgrims to Rome, and when it uses the modern means of communication. Need for Charity It is necessary, however, that the pilgrimage should be accompanied not only by prayer and penance but also by the exercise of brotherly charity, which is a clear demonstration of love of God (see 1 Jn 4:20,21; 3:14), and must be expressed, by the individual faithful, their associations, and ecclesial communities and institutions, in spiritual and corporal works of mercy in favor of needier brothers. Thus the Holy Year qcill really widen the scope of the Church's charity and will portend a renewal and reconcilia-tion of universal dimensions. For these aims to be achieved more easily, let us express the wish that Documents on the Holy Year / 965 the practice of the pilgrimage will be carried out in all the local churches, in cathedrals and sanctuaries, diocesan and national, as intermediate stages converging at last, in 1975, in Rome, the visible center of the universal Church. Here the representatives of the local churches will conclude the way of renewal and reconciliation, venerate the tombs of the Apostles, renew their adhesion to the Church of Peter, and we, God willing, will have the joy of receiving them with open arms and together with them we will bear witness of the unity of the Church in faith and charity. It is our ardent desire that in this march towards the "sources of salva-tion" (see Is 12:3) our sons fully united to the Church of Peter will be joined, in the forms possible for them, also by the other followers of Christ and all those who, along different and apparently distant ways, are seeking the one God with upright conscience .and goodwill (see Acts 17:27). The concrete programs of the pilgrimage and other practices aimed at fostering renewal and reconciliation will certainly be indicated by the Episcopal Conferences for the local churches, taking into account both the outlook and customs of the places, and the real purposes of the Holy Year which we have just outlined. On our side we ask pilgrims, after having prayed according to our inten-tions and to those of the whole episcopal college, to take part, locally, in. a solemn community function, or to make a stop to reflect before the Lord, ending it with the recitation or singing of the Our Father and the Creed and with an invocation to the Blessed Virgin. Gift of Indulgence As if in response to these simple and sincere manifestations by means of which the faithful, in the local churches, will carry out a real conversion and profess that they wish to remain and become stronger in charity towards God and towards their brothers, we, as the humble minister of Christ the Redeemer, will grant, in the due forms, the gift of the Indulgence. Also those sons of ours who, not being able to take part in the pilgrimage because they are prevented by illness or some other serious cause, join in it spir-itually with the offering of their prayers and their suffering, will benefit from this gift. With the Holy Year the Church, exercising the "ministry of reconcilia-tion" (see 2 Cor 5:18), offers privileged opportunities, ~pecial appeals so that all those reached by her word and, even more, as is our wish and our most ardent prayer, by the inner and ineffable touch of grace, may partic-ipate in Christian joy, the fruit of the salvific virtues of the Redeemer. To Refine Spirits We conclude this letter with the expression of the hopes we place in the celebration of the coming Holy Year. They are, we repeat, renewal and reconciliation as interior facts and as implementations of unity, brotherhood, 966 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 and peace, radiating from spirits renewed and reconciled in Christ, throughout the whole Church, and towards the whole human society, on the ways of charity, the fruit of which is justice, goodness, mutual forgive-ness, the gift of oneself and of one's property for one's brothers. In a word we hope and trust that a renewed Christian sense of life will refine spirits and spread abundantly in the world, for common salvation. This, Lord Cardinal, is what we wished to let you know on this eve of an important period of the history of the Church in our days, which will be symbolized, when the time comes, by the opening of the Holy Door. We beg you to communicate it to our Brothers in the Episcopate, while we bless you and all those whom our appeal reaches with the most ample outpouring of our heart, the heart of a father and of the humble servant of the servants of God. From the Vatican Apostolic Palace, 31 May 1973, Feast of the Ascen-sion of Our Lord, the tenth year of our Pontificate. PAULUS PP. VI RENEWAL AND RECONCILIATION (JUNE 6, 1973) As you know, Sunday next, 10 June, is the feast of Pentecost, the feast that commemorates and aims at renewing the descent of the Holy Spirit, the animator, sanctifier, unifier of the Church, the Mystical Body of Christ. And as you likewise know, this forthcoming solemnity will mark the beginning, in the local churches, that is, in the ecclesial communities each presided over by its own bishop, of that religious event, or rather that spiritual movement which we call "Holy Year," followed by the celebration prol~r in. the third quarter of our century, in 1975. You will hear more about it again, a great deal, everywhere. Prepare to understand it, to live it, and specifically in its general purposes. They are a renewal of Christian life such as is demanded and must be possible in the deep and stormy process of the metamorphosis of our times, and a reconciliation of minds and things at which we think we must aim if. we wish to reconstitute in us and outside us that superior order, that "kingdom of God," on which the present and future destinies of humanity depend. Renewal and reconcilia-tion: it seems to us that these must be the logical and general consequences, in the history of the Church and of mankind, of the Council, springing like a river of salvation and civilization from its generating source. Why from Pentecost? Why does this fact start from Pentecost? Not only because this beautiful feast, which we can define as the historical birth of the Church, offers a p~'opitious, inspiring,occasion, but above all because we hope, we beseech, that the Holy Spirit, whose mysterious and ,sensible mission we celebrate at Pentecost, will be the principal Operator of the fruits desired from the Documents on the Holy Year / 967' Holy Year. This, too, will be one of the most important and fruitful themes of spirituality proper to the Holy Year: the Christology and particularly the Ecclesiology of the Council must be succeeded by a new study and a new cult of the Holy Spirit, precisely as the indispensable complement of the teaching of the Council. Let us hope that the Lord will help us to be dis-ciples and teachers of this successive school of his: Jesus, leaving the visible scene of this world, left two factors to carry out his work of salvation in the world: his Apostles and his Spirit (see Congar, Esquisses du mystOre de l'Eglise, p. 129 ft.). We do not wish to enter this magnificent theological field now. For the elementary purposes of this brief preparatory sermon it is enough for us to point out, in the first place, that the action of the Spirit, in the ordinary economy of the divine plan, is carried out in our spirits in respect for our freedom, in fact, with our very cooperation, if only as the condition of divine action in us. We must at least open the window to the entrance of the breath and the light of the Spirit. Let us say a word about this opening, this availability of ours to the mysterious action of the Spirit. Let us ask ourselves what the psychological and moral states of our souls must be, in order that they may receive the "dulcis Hospes animae." This would be enough to weave interminable treatises of spiritual, ascetic, and mystical life. Let us now reduce these states to two only, at least for the sake of being easily remembered, making them correspond to the field preferred by the action of the Paraclete, that is, the Holy Spirit who becomes our assistant, consoler, advocate. Man's Consent'Required The first field is man's "heart." It is true that the. action of grace may leave out of °consideration the subjective correspondence of the one who receives it (a child, for example, a sick person, a dying man), but normally man's .conscience must be in a state of consent, at least immediately after the impulse of the supernatural action of grace. The Holy Spirit has his favorite cell in the human being, the heart (see Rom 5:5). It would take too long to explain what the word "heart" means in Biblical language. Let us be content now to describe the heart as the intimate center, free, deep, personal, of our spiritual life. Anyone who does not have a spiritual life of his own lacks the ordinary capacity to receive .the Holy Spirit, to listen to His soft, sweet voice,, to experience His inspirations, to enjoy His charisms. The diagnosis of modern man leads us to see in him an extroverted being who lives a great deal outside himself and little in himself, like an instrument that is more receptive to the language of the senses and less to that of thought and conscience. The practical conclusion at once exhorts us to praise of silence, not of unconscious, idle, and mute silence, but the silence that subdues noises and exterior clamor and which is able to listen: to listen in depth to the voices, the sincere voices, of conscience 968 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 and to those springing up in the concentration of prayer, to the ineffable voices of contemplation. This is the first field of action of the Holy Spirit. It will be well for us to remember it. Flight trom True Communion ot Ecclesiai Charity And what is the other? The other is "communio," that is, the society of brothers united by faith and charity.in 9ne divine-human organism, the mystical Body of Christ. It is the Church. It is adherence to that mystical Body, animated by the Holy Spirit, who has, in the community of the faithful, hierarchically united, authentically assembled in the name and the authority of the Apostles, his Pentecostal upper room. So we might well consider whether certain ways of seeking the Spirit which prefer to isolate themselves in order to escape both from the directive ministry of the Church and from the impersonal crowd of unknown brethren are on the right path. What Spirit could a selfish communion meet, one that arises from a flight from the true communion of ecclesial charity? What experiences, what charisms could make up for the absence of unity, the supreme encounter with God? And so the program of the Holy Year, inauguated on the feast of the Holy Spirit, is at once placed on the right way: both the way of spiritual life, where He, the Gift of Love, inhabits and awakens and forms and sanctifies our individual personality; and the way of the society of the "saints," that is, the Church of the faithful where salvation is a continual rejoicing for everyone. May our Apostolic Blessing, Sons and Brothers, direct you and follow you along the right way. PROGRESS IN THE SPIRITUAL LIFE (JUNE 13, 1973) ¯ The announcement about the anticipated beginning of the Jubilee celebra-tions which will have their climax in 1975, which you have all certainly heard of, re-echoing in all the dioceses, in the local churches, jolts our conscience in some way, in its religious and moral sensibility, and confronts it with a question ever recurring on the lips of the Church: How is your spiritual life progressing? In a word, this announcement enters the inner recesses of our personality, obliging it to reflect, to examine our conscience on some of its expressions which, like it or not, we all judge fundamental in the very definition of our personality; that is, we feel obliged to answer questions such as the following: Am I one who really believes in religion? Do I profess it, practice it, and how? Do I perceive the relationship between adherence to my religious "creed" and the ideal and practical direction of nay life? Do I perceive the connection between religious life and moral life? If we understand this critical necessity, one of the aims of the Holy Year is already attained: it appears to us first and foremost as one of the pedagogical means with which the Church educates and guides herself---a Documents on the Holy Year / 969 "shock," as is said today, by means of which she aims at a goal considered important and claiming particular interest. Religious Purpose of the Holy Year So it is. For ~he present let us dwell on the first purpose which is cer-tainly in the intention of the Church in promoting the Holy Year: the religious purpose. ¯ We could raise an easy objection, namely, is it necessary to commit the Catholic world and, indirectly at least, also the secular world, to the religious issue? Is there not a continuous and normal effort of the Church already in progress in favor of religion? Did not the Council suffice to reaffirm religion's right of presence in our times? And does not the Church exhort us every day, every Sunday, every feast, to celebrate some religious mystery? What more is wanted? The answer is not a difficult one. Religion is a thing that, in itself, can never be satisfied with its understanding, its profession, its discovery. It puts man in contact with such riches of truth and life that it does indeed quench all our thirst, but does not extinguish it: ions vincit sitientem; on the contrary it stimulates it for other conquests. Furthermore it happens, and this is what concerns us more here, that our attitude towards the goods of the spirit is not constant; we are changeable, we are fragile. It is this phen-omenon of the decadence of religious life, always possible on the part of man, that demands, historically, new interventions on each occasion, more suitable and more effective ones, so that human faithfulness may not be exhausted. The Need of Prayer The history of religious .life is full of these unhappy vicissitudes, just as it is full of vigorous revivals and generous recoveries. Now we all know, more or less, the formidable and systematic attack mounted against religion, our own in the first place, since it is socially structured and organically precise in its doctrine and its rites, in these times of ours in which there is a tendency to equate the secularization of society with its progress and to evolve a humanism that is radically atheist. In a certain sense, which unfortunately is not restricted to negligible or marginal manifestations, the mentality of the new lay generations has to start from the very threshold of religious life. The ministry of the faith must begin again from elementary initiation into the simplest religious expressions. By way of example, we would like to propose a first.question: Do we know how to pray? We are not casting doubt, with this aggressive question, on the validity, the efficacy, the success of the liturgical reform (of which we will be able to speak on another occasion). We mean rather to ask if the man of today, a disciple ofour "consumer" society, as is said," which is engrossed in the pursuit and enjoyment of temporal goods and imbued 970 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 with the proud conviction, that it can solve everything .by itself,-without any recourse to God, or any transcendent conception of the sensible and ratio-nalist world, if this man is still able to utter in his heart any sincere, even though informal, but deep and personal conversation with God. It would be very interesting if, in the light of the Holy Year, there should spring to the lips of modern men the frank request, addressed to Christ the Master by His disciples one day: "Teach us to pray!" (Lk 11:11). That is, it would be desirable to bring to life again in people the sense, the con-cept, the need of religion; and at the same time the hope, the certainty, let us say even more, the experience of speaking tothe God of the universe; and at the same time the surprise, too, of enjoying the capacity of being able to address Him with the name, the most authentic title of His kindness and our dignity; the title of Father. Such a result would be a kind of revision of all our deviations and aberrations; it would be the rebirth of love and hope in the world. It would be the rediscovery of the reason for calling the Church "mother" (see St. Cyprian, De unitate Ecclesiae, VI, P.L. 4, 591); it would be the new insertion of salvation in the conscience and the history of the world. Our.Father! Amen. With our Apostolic Blessing. INTERIORITY AND THE HOLY YEAR (JUNE 20, 1973) Let us speak again of the Holy Year which began in the local churches on the feast of Pentecost. We will speak of it again because we would like to see, round this "Holy Year" formula, as we have already said, not only the fulfillment, but the development of a historic moment in the spiritual life of the Church, not just an event, but a religious movement. This con-ception seems to us, in the first place, in conformity with the motive of this celebration: renewal and reconciliation, aimed at stamping a permanent and general renewal on the religious and moral conscience of our times, inside and, if possible, outside the Catholic Church. In the second place, this view of the Holy Year, it seems to us, intends to reflect in the reality of thought and morals the great plan of the Council,. and prevent its salutary teaching from being relegated to the archives as voices of the past, but rather that they should operate in a masterly way in the actual life of the present and the future generation. It must be a school that becomes life. Call for New Inspiration In the third place, we wish to give importance and extension to this extraordinary religious expression, which we call the Holy Year, because the historical and social circumstances of our times are so heavy and over-powering with regard to our faith and its consequent existential logic that a necessity of seriousness, incisiveness, and strength must, it seems to us, sustain the "movement" of the Holy Year right from the beginning. Either Documents on the Holy Year / 971 it will win recognition as a general, serious, and united effortl and theret~ore a really renewing one, or it will at once be extinguished and exhausted .as a sterile attempt; good and meritorious perhaps, but in practice shortlived and ineffective. At this point some preliminary observations arise which it is well to keep in mind right now. The doubt, or rather the fear, may arise in some people that the Holy.Year movement will oppose so many other spiritual and pastoral movements, the programs of which are already tested by long and clear experience, or already approved by the authority of the Church, or recognized as legitimate and free expressions of the vitality of the People of God. No, we answer: the Holy Year does not intend to suspend, choke, and sweep away the variety and riches of the authentic manifestations already going on in the ecclesial world. The Holy Year would rather imbue them with new energy, and at the most, if possible, connect them in some way with its own general program, which calls in this case rather for the acceptance of a deep, new inspiration than for a specific and concrete ad-herence to precise particular frameworks. Not Triuml~halism Others may think that it is desired to celebrate the Holy Year in a tri-umphalistic style, with trumpetings and overwhelming exterior events, giving the exterior aspect of the movement derived from it an importance greater than other aspects of religious and Catholic life, for which, however, it is necessary to claim an importance that cannot be renounced, perhaps even a superior importance. On this point, which can constitute a strong objec-tion to the celebration of the Holy Year, we wish to invite the good to a twofold reflection. It is indeed possible, please God, that the Holy Year will have the support of the people, flocking crowds, the spectacular ap-pearance of multitudes. It is an ecclesial, universal fact; at some moments it reflects the catholic character of vocation to the gospel. It is humanity, in its immense extension, that we make the object of our invitation and our interest; also and above all on this occasion we wish to give to the heart of the Church the dimensions of the world! Should we protest, then, if the phenomenon takes on excep-tional quantitative forms and proportions? Is itnot the mystery of the unity of the Church, always manifested in the multiplicity of her univoca| and expanded fiches? We will all enjoy it. if the Lord bestows on us the grace of seeing "the spaces of charity" so widened (see St. Augustine, Sermo 69; P.L. 38, 440-441). But, in the second place, let us say at once that this spectacular, and perhaps touristic result, is not specifically the aim of the Holy Year. If a purpose of universal communion cannot but exist in the interttions of an affirmation that concerns the whole Church in her essential properties of unity and catholicity, it is not, however, the primary one as effect in time, 972 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 nor as a value in itself, because it presupposes and demands the attainment of another prior aim: the conversion of hearts, the interior renewal of spirits, the personal adherence of consciences. First the individual, conscious and aware; then the crowd. Interior Conversion We.would like this first purpose of the Holy Year to be given supreme importance. We must aim first and foremost at an interior renewal, a con-version of personal sentiments, liberation, from conventional imitation of others, revision of our outlook, deploring, more than anything else, our shortcomings before God, and towards the society of men our brothers, and with regard to the concept that everyone must have of himself, as a son of God, as a Christian, as a member of the Church. It is a new philosophy of life, if we may say so, that must be formed in every member of the mystical Body of Christ; everyone of us is invited to rectify his way of think-ing, feeling, and acting with regard to the,ideal model of the follower of Christ, while being a loyal and hard-working citizen of contemporary civil society. This great conception of the Holy Year--to give Christian life an authentic expression, consistent, interior, full, capable of "renewing the face of the earth" in the Spirit of Christ --- must be clearly present in our minds, with one very important immediate consequence: the accomplishment of this proiect begins at once and takes place in the personal conscience of each of us. We would like this personal and interior aspect of the great spiritual enterprise, now begun, to head all programs. Each one of us must feel called upon to work out for himself and in himself the religious, psychological, moral, and operative renewal which the Holy Year aims at achieving. Personal Examination With this first practical consequence: we must all verify, or carry out the introspective examination about the main line of our life, that is, about the free and responsible choice of our own vocation, our own mission, our own definition, as a man and as a Christian. A vital examination! And a second consequence, far easier, but far more insistent: it is necessary to resume the practice of good, of honesty, seeking what is better in little things, that is, in the sequence of our ordinary actions, where our defects lie in wait for us at every moment, sometimes disastrously; and where, on the contrary, integrity of action can be easily perfected, if we remember the teaching of the Lord Jesus: "He who is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much" (Lk 16:10). This is something to begin with immediately, for everyone; with our Apostolic Blessing. Documents concerning Religious Men The first of the two documents printed below is the address of the Holy Father on May 25, 1973, to superiors of religious orders who were taking part in the first meet-ing planned by the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes to take place in Rome. The second document is a letter sent by the Pope to the Franciscan Minister General on the occasion of the General Chapter of the Friars Minor held in Madrid, Spain. TO RELIGIOUS SUPERIORS (MAY 25, 1973) Venerable Brothers and beloved Sons, We cordially salute you who, under the aegis of the Sacred Congrc, gation for Religious and Secular Institutes and of its worthy Cardinal PrefeCt,. are engaged in a reunion to discuss questions of no mean weight pertainin~,~[o " a life wholly consecrated to God~ Seeing you here, the superiors of so many religious families whose members are spread throughout the whole world, and having in mind your works which also extend tO every part of the world, we have to regard this meeting of yours and our gathering together here now as an event of considerable ecclesial importance. Two years ago, as you well know, we issued an apostolic exhortation beginning with the words "Evan.gelica testificatio" (Evangelical Witness), in which we reminded the religious institutes how their life must be r~newed in accordance with the directives of Vatican Council II. Now, as a confirma-tion and follow-up of that document, we wish to offer some points which it seems to us desirable to recommend, moved as we are by our paternal solicitude for these same institutes of yours. The Second Vatican Council proclaimed the charismatic nature of the religious life, declaring that the evangelical counsels are "a divine gift, which the Church received from our Lord" (Dogm. Const. Lumen gentium, 973 97'4 / Review for Religious, l/'olume 32, 1973/5 43). By this gift or charism, from its very nature, the religious "are joined in a special manner to the Church and its mystery" (ibid., 44). Whence it follows that, by reason of this intimate and very close bond, they are dependent upon ~he authority of the Church which gives authentic approval to their rules, receives the vows of those who make profession, raises that profession to the dignity of canonical status (ibid., 45) and renders the religious themselves participants in the carrying out of its salvific mission. For the steps taken by religious towards holiness are of service to all inert for their spiritual profit: "Let them know that, when the gift of themselves is accepted by the Church, they themselves are also committed to the service of the Church" (Perfectae caritatis, 5). The Holy Spirit who bestows the charisms and is at the same time the life-spring of the Church brings about the fitting mutual accord between the charismatic inspiration and the juridical structure of the Church, the more necessary because, as Vatican Council II lays down, pastors have "to give judgment as to the genuine nature and due exercise of the charisms, not indeed that they are to extinguish the Spirit but that they are to test all and retain what is good (see 1 Thess 5:12,19,21 ; A postolicam actuositatem, 3). In such a gathering as this it gives us pleasure to say again that the Church cannot do without religious, that is to say, without those witnesses of the love which Christ bore towards men, a love which far transcends nature, nor can the world be deprived of this light without loss to itself (see Evangelica testificatio, 3). For that same reason the Church itself bears witness to its high esteem for them, surrounds them with unfailing love, and does not fail to be at their side "to guide them along the true path" (see Ps 26:11). Church Expects Much But the Church expects much of the religious; through them must be "increased its fair perfection and holiness which only the imitation of Christ and mystical union with Him can give" (see Alloc. to the Conciliar Fathers, Sept. 29, 1965; AAS, 55, 1963, p. 851). The Church, through the magisterium of the Ecumenical Council, its most weighty authority, sum7 moned the religious to renewal, especially spiritual renewal. We know that not a few have striven, and are still striving, to respond to this high expectation; but it has to be said that some. have not paid heed ~to this clarion call or have not interpreted it correctly. Permit us, therefore, to remind you earnestly of the duty there is to effect the aforesaid renewal "to which priority is to be given also in promoting the external works of the apostolate" (Perfectae caritatis, 2e). From the founts of baptismal grace and of the particular charism which belongs to each of your institutes, fresh clear streams must be drawn where-by a life consecrated to-God may become possessed of an abundance of needed strength. Documents concerning Religious Men / 975 Jubilee Year But now we would pass on to a special ecclesial happening which we believe will be of particular interest also to the religious. This is the universal Jubilee which, as you are well aware, we have proclaimed, to be celebrated first in the local churches and then in the city of Rome. Since its intended object is interior renewal, also called conversion, metanoia (change of mind) or penance~ the Church depends much on the pastoral help of the religiouff. So that it will be yours, dear superiors general, to see to it that the families of which you are the heads help on and foster the operation of the Jubilee, especially by co-operating with the sacred hierarchy, in order that this renewal of souls may be effected, and that not only each one's private life but public morals too will be brought into line with Christian precepts. The religious themselves should take this God-given opportunity to think over their curriculum and way of life. That is to say, they should feel moved to compare their actual mode of life with .what is asked of them by Vatican Council II and by the apostolic exhortation Evangelica testi~catio, in order to see whether they are meeting the needs of today and are making our Savior as it were manifestly present within the fellowship of mankind. But in order that this testimony of the religious may be truly efficacious and grow in extent, the following must be noted, or rather recalled to mind. We do not cease to extol the power and necessity of prayer without which we cannot savor the intimate and true knowledge of God (see Ev. test., 43) nor find the strength to pursue the path of perfection. As the Council teaches, the importance and usefulness of prayer made in common are rightly and deservedly to be publicized. But besides this, private prayer must also be cultivated, for by this each one's spiritual vigor is maintained and increased, and by it, too, souls are soundly prepared for prayer in com-mon, especially for liturgical prayer, and are able to obtain nourishment and growth from the same. Faitldulness 1o Prayer It can well be observed of those religious whose spirituallife is flourish-ing and fruitful for others that they are "praying" religious; whereas of those who are wearied of that life or pitifully abandon the religious state, that they are almost always sluggish in the mat(er of praying. For this reason it is abundantly clear that "faithfulness to prayer or abandonment to the same are the test of the vitality or decadence of religious life" (Ev. test., 42). Christ has called you to a more perfect following of Himself and so to the carrying Of the cross, for this latter cannot be separated from your state of life. But let this cross be not only a singular instrument for the purifica-tion of the soul and a special form of apostolate; let it also be a manifest proof of love, not something oppressive but rather uplifting. "Is there not 976 / Review for Religious, liolume 32, 1973/5 a mysterious relation between renunciation and joy . between discipline and spiritual freedom?" (Ev. test., 29). Lastly, the common life is one of the more powerful elements in the renewal of religious life. Those truly very beautiful passages in no. 15 of the decree Perfectae caritatis should be re-read, read indeed again and again and with ever-renewed appreciation. In them are to be found not mere precepts of law regarding the common life, but an admirable exposition of its theological, spiritual, ecclesial, apostolic and human aspects~ There-fore there is laid upon you, beloved sons, no slight obligation to do all ' possible in order to ensure that such conditions of life are established in your houses as are "calculated to foster the spiritual advancement of each of the community" (Ev. test., 39). This truly evangelical brotherhood is also a firm safeguard for the members, especially for those who may be discouraged, passing through a crisis, suffering from sickness or old age. Which Shall Survive? Whilst today so many things are being called into question, the religious life, too, is made the subject of not a few difficulties, as you yourselves are discovering day by day. Thus there are those who anxiously seek to know how religious life is likely to shape in the years to come, whether its destiny will prove to be for better or for worse. In this regard many of you are concerned because of the fewness or lack of candidates, or because of the regrettable desertions from amongst your members. But this future destiny lies in the fidelity with which each institute follows out its vocation, that is to say, in the extent to which it. expresses in its conduct of life th~ consecration which it has vowed to God. It is above all the example of a way.of life enhanced by spiritual joy and a resolute will to be at the service of God and the brethren, which attracts candidates to religious life in our times. For the youth of today, when they give themselves to God, aim for the most part "to give all for all" (see Imitation of Christ III, 37, 5); there-fore they more readily join those institutes in which there thrives and flourishes that "kind of virginal and poverty-stricken life which Christ our Lord chose for Himself and which his Virgin Mother embraced" (dogm. constitution Lumen gentium, 46). Words of Augustine We may, then, conclude this paternal discourse with some words of St. Augustine who was himself a most outstanding promoter and eulogizer of religious life: "We exhort you in the Lord, brethren, to hold safe to your purpose and to persevere to the end; and if holy Mother Church desires some work of you, do not grasp it with over-eager elation nor yet reject it through delusive sloth; but be obedient to God with meekness of heart, with mildness bearing him who rules you, who guides the mind in Documents concerning Religious Men / 977 judgment, who teaches the meek his ways" (Ps 24:9; Ex 48, 2; PL 33, 188). Finally, with the fervent wish that this reunion of yours may have a prosperous and salutary outcome, we willingly impart to you and those committed to your care the Apostolic Blessing as a witness of our most sure affection. FRANCISCAN SPIRITUALITY (MAY 26, 1973) To Our beloved Son CONSTANTINE KOSER Minister General of the Order of Friars Minor In as much as the general chapter of the Order of Friars Minor will soon take place in Madrid, we believe it is only fitting for us to have our voice reach that particular assembly and each individual member of the same Franciscan family through this letter of ours, by which we desire to encourage, exhort, and guide you. This meeting is "a sort of general council, which gathers from every part of the world under one rule of life (see Th. of Celano, Vita secunda shncti Francisci, no. 192; Analecta ]ranciscana, 1926; 941, p. 240). Consequently it is an event which has a great influence and effect on the very life of an organization so widely diffused. By rights then we wish you to be the object of that "concern for all the churches" (see 2 Cor 11:28) which weighs upon our shoulders. Directives Accepted We do not believe it is necessary to repeat all that the Second Vatican Council providentially and authoritatively taught on the renewal of the religious life, nor to inculcate once again what we ourselves, following the Council, set forth in our apostolic exhortation entitled Evangelica Testi]icatio. For we are convinced that you have accepted all those directives in a spirit of obedience and have made every effort up to the present time to make them a part of your way of life. With this in mind we would like to reiterate and emphasize that which we told the members of the last general chapter held in Assisi, onamely, that the spread of your Order throughout the world, the model of its evangelical life, and its generously undertaken apostolate are all a great honor for the Church (see AAS, 59, p. 782). However, we would like to discuss this one point with you: just what is the mission, what is the vocation of your religious family in this age of ours? We ask this question so that we can lead you along to that answer which the Church expects of you. Right now, that is, in these turbulent times of ours, the Church most earnestly desires and zealously strives to have religious institutes "grow and prosper according to the spirit of their foun-ders" (Vat. II, Lumen gentium, 45). As tradition says once happened, may 9711 / Review Ior Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 St. Francis, your founding father, be present as it were from the very beginning of your meetings and deliberations, standing at the door of the chapter hall and blessing every and all the members: look upon him! (see S. Bonaventure, Legenda maior s. Francisci, IV, 10; Analecta ]ranciscana op. mem., p. 576). Following Christ What Holy Mother the Church asks of you--as she always has done in the past--is contained in this one phrase: "Follow in the footsteps of Christ" (1 Pt 2:21). Does not the wonderful teaching and example which St. Francis offers you consist precisely in this following of Christ? For, "casting off every trace of special honor and vanity" (see Th. of Celano, op. mem., n. 144, p. 231), he gave himself completely to Christ, and on Mount Alverno he reached the culmination, so to speak, of that reality, so much so that he could say with the Apostle Paul: "Far be it from me to boast in anything except in the cross of Christ through whom the world has been crucified to me and I to the world" (Gal 6:14). As a result, "look carefully, and act according to the model shown to you on the mountain" (Ex 25:40). The more faithful image of the Savior--virgin, poor, obedient --your life becomes, the more it will testify and impart to souls the salva-tion obtained by him. As usually happens in the ordinary course of events, this fundamental truth is clouded over at times because of different factors. You know from your own experience and from the history of your Order which embraces a number of centuries that, as often as the Franciscan way of life departs from this path, great harm comes out of that which was supposed to be a source of great edification (see S. Bonaventure, Opusc. XIX, Epist. 2, n. 1; Opera omnia, Ad Claras Aquas, VIII, p. 470). Nevertheless, what St. Bonaventure says in general--namely that truth can be temporarily down-trodden, but must necessarily rise up again (see Commentar. in Evang. Luc. 21, n. 23: Opera omnia, ibid., VII, p. 528)---can also be happily applied to your own internal events and accomplishments. It is greatly to be hoped, therefore, that this particular principle may be fully effective even at this time as far as is necessary and may work both in your attitude and way of life, as well as your statements and plans, and in the renewal of your legislation. Loyalty to Church But fidelity in maintaining this following of Christ demands another kind of faithfulness: that toward the Church. Between the two there is such a relationship that the one can be known from the other. For this reason St. Francis "wholly and entirely of the Catholic faith" directed his brothers to honor the venerable footprints of the Holy Roman Church, which, in spite of every intervening difficulty,, safeguarded the bonds of charity and peace Documents.concerning Religious Men / 979 among them (see Th. of Celano, op, mere., nn. 8,and 24, pp. 135 and 145). Thus it happened that the Franciscan way of life and °work became, as it were, a river which quickened the City,,of God (Ps 45:5): suffice it to mention fhose intelligently devised plans, the evangelization of the populace, the social works and those of charity, the attractive force which goes beyond the boundaries of your own institute. Therefore it is this .feeling for and service of the Church which is your primitive, original vocation. It would be spoiled and lost if you were to consider it a mere event of a past age. On the contrary, it must always be "in action"; that is right now you must obey God, '"ivho is calling you" (1 Thess 5:24). You must undertake the tasks and responsibilities which the Church is now asking of you. Defending the Gospel At this very time great courage is demanded, especially in regard to the teaching of the truth. Are there not people here and there who "want to change the_gospel of Christ?" (Gal 1:7). In the same way, under the pressure of many individuals in our contemporary society, people get-the idea that obedience to the true faith and concern for moral behavior are no longer of profit for the advancement of the community of the Church, ~but ratl~er are an obstacle to freedom--which they understand in the wrong way. In as much as this is the way things are going, every Friar Minor should--as we firmly trust---consider himself as "assigned to the defense of the gospel" (see Phil 1:16). Let no one from your religious family allow himself to be entangled by the allurements of popularity ~which is so ephemeral and shallow; let no one out of fear give into the temptation, which is becoming the mode today, of conforming himself to the world. But if all who have been reborn through baptism "are obliged to profess before men the faith they have received from God through the Church" (Vat. II, Lumen gentium, 11 ), this obligation binds you so much more, because St. Francis gave you this common command to be implemented: "Obey the word of the Son of God . for He has sent you into the whole world that you might give witness to His teaching through your words and works" (Epistula ad Capitulum: Opuscula; Ad Claras Aquas, 1904, p. 100). Spread Peace May your zeal for the spread of the "gospel of peace" (Eph 6:15) be inflamed; something which will not happen unless "the truth of the Gospel remains among you" (Gal 2, 5). Certainly you are convinced that this good news of the gospel will be spread "not . . . in words alone, but in fullness and strength and the Holy Spirit" (see 1 Thess 1:5). For this reason, you must contemplate the outstanding examples of your forefathers and must be present in the world with all of that gentleness and kindness which will Review for Religious, l/olume 32, 1973/5 make the intimate relationship between Christ and the Church stand out clearly, for it is this relation which applies and continues and renders visible the very work of the Savior. People from your own ranks should be at the disposal of this Church community; endowed with fitting qualities of soul and intellect, they should by their zeal and example bring the people to follow Christ the Poor Man, and they ought to do. this with complete trust in the Holy Spirit. People do not ask of you that you harmonize with the world in an equivocal fashion; for they are demanding that you show forth to them the sublimity of your own way of life, so that by looking upon it they may begin to have qualms about their own lives and may seek the city to come (see Heb 13: 14). Even at this time men are searching their souls for some-thing absolute which transcends nature; even at this time they can be led on to God by all created realities which have been reconciled through Christ (see Heb 1:19 ff.) and which speak of God. St. Francis gave your own spirituality this special mark and characteristic: it was to show that the world could be transformed in such a way that work could be called ' a grace and death a sister. Therefore, as you preach the gospel, give special priority to the teaching which is contained in the sermon on the Beatitudes, and according to which poverty is turned into riches, weeping into joy, and lowliness int~ public acclaim (Lk 6:20-3). Even though human weakness and malice continue to exist, you must affirm and promote the good, in order that in all cases and individuals it may occupy the first place, in order that the hope of the future life, which is the special characteristic of Christ's followers, may shine forth (see 1 Thess 4:13). Be therefore the guardians of this hope in the world! Dear Friars Minor! "We have spoken to you as sons; be open and joyful yourselves" (see 2 Cor 6:13)! Listen willingly to what the Church expects of you; fulfill willingly her wishes according to the nature of your vocation; sanctify yourselves and work for the extension of the king-dom of God to all the lands of the earth and for its firm establishment in the hearts of all men (see Vat. II, Lumen gentium, 45). We pray God very earnestly that He may be graciously present and near your general chapter and that it may have a successful outcome. To you therefore, Beloved Son, and to all the members of your Order, we affectionately impart our Apostolic Blessing as a testimony of our paternal regard. From the Vatican, 26 May 1973, in the tenth year of our Pontificate. PAULUS PP. VI The Eucharistic Prayers Sacred Congregation [or Divine Worship The following is an English translation of a letter of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship with regard to the Eucharistic Prayers. The translation is that of the weekly English language edition of Osservatore romano. 1. The reform of the sacred liturgy and especially the re-organization of the Roman Missal recently completed in accordance With the requireme.nts of Vatican Council 111 are intended above all to facilitate an intelligent, devout, and active participation in the Holy Eucharist on the part of the faithful.-~ A notable feature of this new Roman Missal, published with the authority of Paul VI, is undoubtedly the wealth of text from which a choice may often be made, whether in the case of the Readings from Holy Writ or in that of the chants, prayers, and acclamations on the part of the faithful, or again in regard to the "presidential" prayers, not indeed excluding the Eucharistic Prayer itself for which three new texts, in addition to the venerable traditional Roman Canon, have been brought into use? Variety of Texts in the Missal 2. The reason for providing this ample variety of texts and the purpose intended by the revision of the forms of prayer to be used are of a pastoral nature, namely in order to bring about both unity and variety of liturgical prayer. By making use of these texts as set forth in the Roman Missal, the 1See Vatican "Council II, the constitutio~ Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 48, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 113. 2See Paul VI, the aiaostolic constitution Missale romanum, April 3 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), pp. 217-22. 3Ibid., p. 219. 981 Review Jor Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 various groups of the faithful who gather together to celebrate the Holy Eucharist feel that they form part of the one Church praying with one faith and one prayer, and at the same time they enjoy a timely ability, especially where the vernacular is used, of being able to proclaim in many ways the one same mystery of Christ, whilst they can the more easily lift up their hearts individually to God in prayer and thanksgiving4 and can participate in the celebration with great spiritual fruit. 3. For some years after its promulgation the new Roman Missal could not be completely introduced everywhere for celebration with the people, because the translation of it into the vernacular of. a great number of nations was an enormous work requiring quite a period of time? Moreover, the opportunity thus provided for increasing pastoral efficacy is oftentimes not appreciated nor, in arranging the Mass, is sufficient thought given to the common good of the congrega~tion.6 New Requests 4. Meanwhile a desire has arisen amongst not a few to adapt the Eucharistic celebration still further by the composition of new forms of prayer, including even new Eucharistic Prayers. They say that the choice provided by the present "presidential" prayers and the four Eucharistic Prayers in the existing "Ordo Missae" still does not fully meet the manifold requirements of the different groups, regions, and peoples. Therefore it was many times requested of this Sacred Congregation to approve, or grant the faculty of approving and bringing into use, new texts both of ordinary prayers and of Eucharistic Prayers .more in tune with the modern, way of thinking and of talking. Moreover, quite a number of authors of various languages and countries have published, during the last few years, Eucharistic Prayers composed by: themselves under the guise of studies; and it has frequently happened thak, notwithstanding what is laid down in Vatican Council II7 and episcopal pro-hibitions, some priests have made use of privately composed texts in their celebration Of Mass. 5. In view of all the foregoing, the Sacred Congregation, by mandate of the Supreme Pontiff and after consulting experts from various parts of the globe, gave careful study to the question of the composing of new 4See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 54. ¯ ~With regard to the principles according to which the translations must be made, see the Commission for the Execution of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, "Instruction sur la traduction des textes liturgiques pour la c616bration avec le peuple," January 25 1969, Notitiae, 5 (1969), pp. 3-12. 6"Institutib generalis Missalis romani," no. 313. zSee Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 22, par. 3, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 106. The Eucharistic Prayers / 91~3 Eucharistic Prayers and of giving to Episcopal Conferences the faculty of approving them, together with cognate questions and their outcome. The conclusions arrived at from this study were submitted to the members of this Sacred Congregation at a plenary session, to the judgement of the other Sacred Congregations concerned, and finally to the Supreme Pontiff. After mature consideration of the whole question, it did not seem advis-able at this juncture to grant to Episcopal Conferences the general faculty of bringing out or approving new Eucharistic Prayers. On the contrary, it has seemed more opportune to call attention to the pressing need of giving fuller instruction on the nature and reality of he Eucharistic Prayer? Seeing that this is the culminating point of the celebration, it must also be the culminating point, of an instruction in depth on the subject. It seems like-wise necessary that fuller, information should be given as to the possibilities of encouraging a full participation on the part of the~ faithful, offered to priests by the use of the current liturgical regulations and of the prayer-forms contained in the Roman Missal. Directives 6. Therefore the four Eucharistic Prayers contained in the revised Roman Missal remain in force, and it is not permitted to make .use of any other composed without the permission of the Apostolic See or without the approval of the same. Episcopal Conferences and individual bishops are earnestly begged to put pertinent arguments before their priests in order to bring them wisely to the observance of the same regulations as laid down by the Roman Church, to the benefit of the Church itself and in furtherance of the proper conducting of liturgical functions. .The Apostolic See, moved by the pastoral desire for unity, reserves to i~elf the right of determining a matter of such great importance as the regulations for the Eucharistic Prayers. Within the unity of the Roman Rite it will not refuse to consider legitimate, requests; and petitions coming to it from Episcopal Conferences for the drawing up of some new Eucharistic Prayer in particular circumstances and introducing it into the liturgy will be given ~benevolent consideration; but in each case the Holy See will lay down the norms to be followed. 7. After making this decision known, it seems useful to offer some con-siderations which may render its meaning clearer and its execution easier. Of these, some have to do with the nature and importance of the Eucharistic Prayer in liturgical, and especially Roman, tradition; others concern the things that can be done to accommodate the celebration to each congrega-tion without in any way altering the text of the Eucharistic Prayer. sSee Cardinal Benno Gut, "Letter to the Presidence of Episcopal Conference," Janu-ary 2 1969, Notitiae, 4 (1969), pp. 146-8; "Indications pour faciliter la cat6ch~se des anaphores de la Messe," ibid., pp. 148-55. 9114 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 Nature o[ Eucharistic Prayer 8. The Eucharistic Prayer, which is of its very nature the "culminating point of the whole celebration," is a "prayer of thanksgiving and of sanc-tification" whose purpose is "that the whole congregation of the faithful may unite i[self with Christ in proclaiming the wondrous things of God and in offering the sacrifice.''9 This Prayer is offered by the ministering priest who is the intermediary translating both the voice of God addressed to the people, and the voice of the people lifting up the soul to God. It alone must be heard, while the congregation gathered to celebrate the sacred litur-gy remains devoutly silent. In this Prayer, over and above the catechetical.indications intended to highlight the particular characteristic of. any celebration, there supervenes the element of thanksgiving for the universal mystery of salvation or for some particular aspe.ct of this which, in accordance with the day, the feast, the season, or the rite, is being celebrated.1° For this reason, in order that those taking part in the Eucharist may the better render thanks to God and bless Him, already in the new Roman Missal "there has been an increase in the provision of Prefaces, either taken from the ancient tradition of the Roman Church or 'now composed for the first time, by means of which particular aspects of the mystery of salva-tion are brought out and more and richer motives for thanksgiving are offered."11 For the same reason, the priest presiding at the Eucharist enjoys the faculty of introducing the Eucharistic Prayer with a brief reminder12 to the people of the motives for thanksgiving in words suited to the congregation at the particular time, in such manner that those present feel that their own way of life is part and parcel of the history of salvation and gain ampler benefits from the celebration of the Eucharist. ~ 9. Again, so far as the end looked to by the Eucharistic Prayer is con-cerned, as well as its make-up and structure, the aspect known as petition or intercession is to be considered secondary. In the reformed liturgy that aspect is developed especially in the universal prayer whereby, in a freer form and one more suited to the circumstances, supplications are made for the Church and for mankind. Nonetheless, the new liturgical books offer also a variety of forms of intercession to be inserted into the different Eucharistic Prayers, according to the structure of each, in particular celebra- '~"Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 54. 1°See ibid., no. 552. 11Paul VI, the apostolic constitution Missale romanum, April 3 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), p. 219. lzSee "Institutio generalis Missalis romani,'" no. 11. The Eucharistic Prayers / 985 tions, and above all in ritual Masses.1~ In this way the reason for any partic-ular celebration is made clear and definitive, while at the time the offering of this prayer in communion with the whole Church is signalized,at Embolisms 10. Besides the variations noted above, which are intended to bring about a closer connection between the thanksgiving and the intercessions, there are also, in the Roman tradition, some special formulas to be used "infra actionem" on the principal solemnities of the liturgical year, whereby the memorial of the mystery of Christ being celebrated is made the more manifest.1,~ It is clear from this that there was concern in ancient tradition to main-tain the unchangeable character of the text, while yet not excluding certain opportune variations. If the faithful, hearing the same text again and again, unite themselves somewhat the more easily with the priest celebrant in prayer, nevertheless some variations, though only few in number, prove acceptable and useful, arousing attention, as they do, encouraging piety and lending a certain special quality to the prayer. Nor is there any reason why the Episcopal Conferences should not make similar provision for their own areas, a bishop for his diocese, or the com-petent authority for the Proper pertaining to a religious family, in regard to the points mentioned above (nos. 8-10) as open to variation, and then ask the Holy See for confirmation of the same. Ecclesial Dimensions 11 :' The ecclesial importance attaching to the Eucharistic celebration is to be highly esteemed. For while in the celebration of the Eucharist "there is represented and brought about the unity of the faithful who constitute one body in Christ,''~6 "the celebration of Mass is already in itself a profession of faith in which the Church recognizes and expresses itself.''~7 All this is abundantly apparent in the Eucharistic Prayer itself, in which not just some lain regard to Eucharistic Prayer I or the Roman Canon, besides the faculty of introducing names in the Memento (N.N.), see the special Memento for godparents in Masses for the initiation into the Church of adults and the formulas for the Hanc igitur in Masses from the Easter vigil to the second Sunday of paschal time, for baptisms of adults, for confirmation, ordination, marriages, profession, for the con-secration of virgins; in regard to Eucharistic Prayers II, III, IV, see Embolisms for adult neophytes, those professed, and consecrated virgins. a4See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 55g. x.~See the proper Communicantes for Christmas and octave, for the Epiphany, from the Mass of the paschal vigil until the second Sunday of paschal time, for the Ascension and for Pentecost. x6See Vatican Council II, the constitution Lumen gentium, no. 3, AAS, v. 57 (1965), p. 62 ~rSecretariat for Christian Unity, the instruction ltt quibus rerum circumstantiis, June 1 1972, no. 2b, AAS, v. 64 (1972), p. 520. 986 / Review for Religious, l/olume 32, 1973/5 private person or a local community only, but "the one only Catholic Church" existing in whatsoever number of individual churches18 addresses itself to God. But where Eucharistic Prayers are introduced without any approbation from the competent authority in the Church, disquiet and dissensions fre-quently arise among priests and in congregations, whereas on the contrary the Eucharist ought to be "a sign of unity" and "a bond of charity.''19 Indeed not a few complain of the too subjective character of such texts. The fact is that those who take part in the celebration have a right that the Eucharistic Prayer, which they ratify as it were by their "Amen," should not be mixed up with or wholly imbued with the personal preferences of the one'who wrote the text br makes use of it. Hence it is. obviously necessary that only those texts of the Eucharistic Prayer are to be employed which, being approved by legitimate Church authority, manifest very clearly and fully an ecclesial bearing. Catechetical Preparation 12. But a more accurate adaptation of the celebration to the diversity of congregations and of circumstances, °and also a fuller expression of the catechetical content, which cannot be always or conveniently effected in the Eucharistic Prayer, given its nature, will be able to be inserted in those parts and set forms of the liturgical action which lend themselves to varia-tion or require it. 13. First of all, those who prepare the celebrations or preside at them are reminded of the faculty granted in the "Institutio generalis Missalis romani,''2° whereby they can, in certain cases, choose Masses and also texts for the various parts of the Mass, such as Lessons, prayers, chants, so that they answer "as far as possible to the needs, the preparation of mind and the capacity of those taking part.''21 Nor is it to be forgotten that other documents, published since the appearance of the aforementioned "In-structio," offer further guidelines.and directions for enlivening celebrations and adapting them to pastoral needs.~ Admonitions 14. Amongst the matters which lend themselves to a fuller adaptation lSSee Vatican Council II, the constitution Lumen gentium, no. 23, AAS, v. 57 (1965), p. 27. 19st. Augustine, In loannis Evangelium Tractatus, 26, 13, CCL, v. 36, 266; and see Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 47, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 113. zo"Institutio generalis Missalis romani," nos. 314-24. Zqbid., no. 313. -°-°See Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship, the instruction Actio pastoralis, May 15 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), pp. 806-11; the instruction Memoriale Domini, May 29 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), pp. 541-7; and the instruction Sacramentali com-municatione, June 29 1970, AAS, v. 62 (1970)i pp. 664-7. The Eucharistic Prayers / 91~7 and are left to the individual celebrants to make use of, it is well to keep in mind the admonition, the homilies, and the universal prayers. Firstly the admonitions: by means of these the faithful are brought to a deeper understanding of the meaning of the sacred function or of some of its various parts. Of these admonitions those are of special importance which the priest himself is invited by the "Instructio generalis Missalis romani" to compose and deliver for the purpose of introducing those present to the Mass of the day before the actual celebration begins, or to the liturgy of the word before the readings, or to the Eucharistic Prayer before the Preface; and also as a conclusion of the whole sacred ceremony before the dismissal.2a T.hen again, importance is to be given to those admonitions that are laid down in the "Ordo Missae" for certain rites, which are to be introduced either before the penitential act or before the Lord's prayer. Naturally these admonitions need not be given word for word as set out in the Missal, so much so indeed that it may well be advisable, at least in certain instances, to adapt them somewhat to the actual circumstances of the particular. gathering. Nevertheless, in giving these admonitions their particular char-acter is to be preserved, so that they do not turn into sermons or homilies; and care must be taken to be brief, and verbosity, wearisome to the partic-ipants, must be avoided. Homily and Universal Prayer 15. Besides the admonitions there is the homily to be kept in mind. It is "part of the liturgy o itself''24 and is the means of explaining to the faithful there present,, in a manner suited to their cap.acity and way of life and relative to the circumstances of the celebration, the word of God that is proclaimed in the liturgical assembly. 16. Finally, considerable importance is to be attached to the Universal Prayer with which the congregation responds~ in a certain way, to the word of God already explained to them and accepted by them. To ensure its efficacy, care must be taken that the petitions offered up for various needs throughout the world should be suited to the congregation, bringing to bear in their composition that wise freedom consistent with the nature of this prayer. Style of Reading 17. Without any doubt, for the celebration to be a truly community and live happening, besides the choice of its various elements it requires that the one presiding and the others who have some particular function to perform should give thought to the various kinds of verbal communica- -~3See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 11. -~Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 52, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 114. Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 tion with the congregation, namely the Readings, the homily, the admoni-tions, the introduction, and the like.z~ In reciting the prayers, and especially theEucharistic Prayer, the priest ¯ .- must avoid on the one hand a dry style of reading without any variation of voice, and on the other hand a too subjective and emotional style of speech and action. As the one presiding over the function, he must be very careful in reading or singing to help those taking part to form a true community celebrating and living the memorial of the Lord. 18. In order to ensure a still fuller impact of the word and greater spiritual fruit, due regard must be given, as indeed many desire, to the sacred silence which is to be observed at stated times as part of the liturgical actions,-~6 in order that each one, according to temperament and the reaction of the moment, either makes some self-examination or meditates briefly on what he has just been listening to or praises God and prays to Him in his heart.27 19. In view of all the above, it may be permitted to express the earnest wish and hope that the pastors of souls, instead of introducing novelties in the way of texts and rites into the sacred functions, will rather be con-cerned to instruct the faithful with anxious care in order that these may the better understand the nature, structure, and elements of the celebration, and especially of the Eucharistic Prayer, and may participate ever more fully and more knowledgeably in the celebration itself. The power and the efficacy of the sacred liturgy does not consist merely in the newness and variety of its elements, but in a deeper communion with the mystery of salvation made actual and operative in the liturgical function. In this way alone are the faithful, in their profession of one faith and outpouring of one prayer, enabled to follow out their salvation and be in communion with their brethren. The matters contained in this Circular Letter, drawn up by this Sacred Congregation, were approved and confirmed by the Supreme Pontiff Pope Paul VI on the 18th day of April 1973 and ordered by him to be made public. From the offices of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship, the 27th day of April 1973. ARTHUR Card. TABERA Prefect "I" A. BUGNINI Tit. Archbp. of Diocletiana Secretary 2~See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 18. °-~See Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum ~Concilium, no. 30, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 108; and Sacred Congregation of Rites, the instruction Musicam sacram, March 5 1967, no. 17, AAS, v. 59 (1967), p. 305. -~rSee "lnstitutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 23. Spirituality in a.Time of Transition George M. Regan, C.M. George M. Regan, C.M., is chairman of the Department of Theology; St. John's University; Grand Central and Utopia Parkways; Jamaica, New York 11439. Pluralism has become a central fact in Church life and theology in our day. The uniformity in structures, laws, customs, and religious outlook which formerly prevailed has given way to divergence. Against this pluralistic background, it becomes impossible to claim one monolithic conception of spirituality for religious today. Religious communities differ enormously from one another, and individual religious sometimes agree to disagree in matters concerning spirituality. Tension between Two Understandings Some entire communities and many individual religious follow the same routine and understanding inherited from former generations. A highly structured order of day with set times for prayer, common meditation books, reading in the dining hall, and frequent communal exercises still prevail in some communities. This approach to spirituality generally assigns great prominence to the virtue of obedience to the Rule and to various authorities as the focal point of one's spiritual life. On the other hand, some communities and many religious, particularly younger persons, have adopted a more fluid and personalistic approach to spirituality which emphasizes personal responsibility and underlying values, rather than stressing so much obedience to set regulations. The introduction of shared responsibility among the meml:~ers tempers greatly the traditional understanding of obedience. A widespread dissatisfaction with such prayer forms as litanies, novenas, the rosary, and stations of the cross, together 989 990 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 with a questioning of the underlying rationale for these forms characterize many religious. Tension between these two general understandings often exists in the same province, the same local house, and even in the same person, who may vacillate, one day wanting the freedom of personal responsibility, another day desirous of some common regulations regarding spirituality. Frequently, one encounters religious whose general chapters moved the community officially toward a spirituality which stresses personal responsibility and the members are experiencing the pains of transition to the actual practice of spiritual values, once the supports and structures of a lifetime were removed. Though consolidation and lessening of polarization can be noted in some religious communities, individual religious find this transitional period a painful experience. The task of appropriating personally Christian values can be quite trying and the price paid may be confusion, drifting, and out-right failure. Young and old, liberal and conservative, share these difficulties. This article will concern itself mostly with religious who find themselves in this trying situation of transition to new meanings. Mutual understanding among re!igious may help tide them over to some degree during this transi-tional stage. Ministry to religious will also require sensitivity, compassion, and an appreciation of the practical implications involved in the shift from an obedience-centered spirituality to a more personalistic view of the spiritual life. In particular, we shall present some main features of a contemporary theology of spirituality and apply this to religious life. By way of introduction, however, a brief review of the former, obedience-centered spirituality may serve to locate and focus more sharply our main consi~derations. The Obedience-centered Approach The traditional stress in religious life on the Rule, authority, and the virtue of obedience bears similarity t~o the law-centered approach to moral theology which prevailed until relatively recently. This mo,rality or way of life for the Christian, as presented in the moral manuals in use until the mid-1960s, assigned prominence to law and to self-perfection through the acquiring of virtue. Obedience to law in all exactness came through in trad.itional moral theology as the center of the Christian moral life. An impression was conveyed of certainty and security. Individual acts of a person received far more emphasis than did the overall life stance or attitude which a believer gradually assu~es before God and the neighbor. "Live within the confines of the law" seemed the main moral task. This mentality became influential within many religious communities in their approach to spirituality. A candidate would be encouraged during formation to give onself to Christ, to give up one's will, to make a holocaust of oneselL One's will, mind, possessions, sexual love, and personal .prefer-ences would be given over to God. The role of authority, the Rule, and Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 991 obedience would be emphasized. To do as one is told, to place oneself as an awl in the hands of the carpenter would be familiar emphases in formation programs. The individual would not ordinarily be urged to plan, suggest, modify, or advise. The most docile and obedient candidate would be considered .the best and "growing in holiness." Sacrifice of one's will to the will of legitimate authority, in particular, occupied a prominent position in this traditional spirituality. "The less "of me in obedience, the more of Christ" has a familiar ring. Spirituality and life style fit a highly regulated pattern in this approach. The stress on communal goals led to a broad uniformity reaching into utmost details of ~religious life. A personal goal of self-fulfillment or indi-viduality would often be considered pride. A person would not usually be encouraged to express emotions, to develop individual personality, or to value creative expressiveness. Talents and interests would often be chan-neled solely for common purposes in many communities, so that, for example, the religious would not be consulted about even one's future apostolate. A rigid common order of day and uniform control of m~tters such as. coming and going, or habit, all fitted into~ this controlled life style. Spirituality was marked by an abundance of spiritual exercises, which constituted one's principal prayers, many of them said in common. Most communities required daily meditation, Mass, various examinations of conscience, morning and evening prayers, some part of the Office and various special devotions, such as the rosary, novenas, stations of the cross, reading of Sacred Scripture, the Imitation of Christ, the Rule, and spiritual books. Penance such as fast and abstinence, abstention from tobacco and alcohol, and the public declaration of faults in chapter were found in all communities. Fidelity to long hours of work, whatever be one's assignment, and a general separation from people likewise characterized this approach to re-ligious life. Detailed norms governing visits to or from relatives, mixing with the laity and other "externs," and the vows were commonplace. The interpretation of the vow of poverty left little room for individual choice by religious, for the person ~was expected to get permission in many com-munities for any money spent or received. In religious communities of women, the vow of chastity provided the occasion for many protections established to safeguard the members: clothing, a companion system, severe restriction in reading, television, attendance at movies and shows, and contacts with men were all areas surrounded with protections. Obedi-ence meant basically a willingness to be submissive and to put one's judg-ment into the hands of superiors. This total control by superiors involved little consultation, and self-w, ill oi personal preferences were downgraded. The superiors' decisions were viewed oftentimes as final and unquestioned. This obedience-centered approach to religious life implied that Christian spirituality should center on ~unSwerving fidelity to all the details regulated 99:2 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 by the Rule and authority. Understandably, obedience became the center of one's life. This approach to spirituality, moreover, tended to view the life of grace as a supernaturalizing of nature which involved a suspicion of or actual opposition to the "merely natural." Emotions and sexuality, for example, might never seem quite Christian or supernatural in this perspec-tive. To castigate this approach to spirituality is not at all the purpose of this brief summary. Many religious obviously grew closer to God and the neighbor in their absolute fidelity to this viewpoint. Large numbers of religious functioning today have this as their general background and many have grown into new ways without immense problems. Appreciation of this traditional approach to religious life and spirituality will hopefully assist other religious unfamiliar with it and also aid those who minister to religious. This holds especially true for those religous who are attempting to adopt another approach to spirituality. Personal Response to Inner Value Many religious communities, local houses, and individual religious have moved away from this obedience-centered approach to spirituality, to an approach which emphasizes personal response to inner value. Religious who operate within this new framework experience immense changes: the former uniformity has given way to greater emphasis on personal respon- " sibility and individuality; spii'itual exercises have usually diminished in number, the kinds of common prayers have changed, and the underlying value of prayer has been stressed; choice of residence, companions, and apostolate in a self-selection process has often emerged; the vows remain, but the tight regulations interpreting them have been removed or signif-icantly altered. In this approach to religious life, a person is viewed as entering a community to develop oneself fully in the service of Christ and the neighbor, to put one's full talents at the disposal of people, and to take part in and share responsibility for the Church and for the community itself. Their most basic commitment will come into greater prominence: to enter into the death and resurrection of Jesus, leading to perfect charity toward God and the neighbor. Rather than obedience, selfless charity becomes the primary Christian virtue, in accordance with Jesus' teaching. Life itself is seen as a response to God and the neighbor in love: "How can I respond to real needs as I see them? How can I actively cooperate in community life, by advising, suggesting, and modifying?" Such questions come more readily to mind and new candidates will be encouraged in these attitudes. Personal development of healthy human qualities occupies a more central position in this outlook: "The more a person grows and reaches a balanced maturity, the more the roots of Christ's life will be strengthened." Acceptance of the authentically human implied in such a principle leads to Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 993 urging upon religious today utilization of their native talents, creative ex-pression, and a heightened personal initiative. Whatever dehumanizes the individual religious or other persons served in the apostolate, by overlook-ing their mind, heart, emotions, talents and the like, is thus viewed as un-christian. The human person in all his richness emerges in this viewpoint, therefore, as an absolute value in himself, to be safeguarded and promoted. This framework allows more emphasis on the personal response of the individual religious to inner values, both human and Christian. Decentraliza-tion, coresponsibility, and subsidiarity become the new hallmarks of obedience, for the realities underlying these terms shift the focus from .institutions to the local level and the individual religious. Each province, each house, and indeed each sister, priest, or brother is seen as making a unique contribution to the ongoing task of discerning the movement of the Holy Spirit in the group and in oneself. Spirituality itself thus becomes a more personal affair of responding according to one's convictions to human and Christian values grasped through one's own appreciation. The former stress on a host of spiritual exercises performed communally gives ¯ way to fewer common prayer gatherings, but with a concurrent stress on the individual's need to pray and to join at times with one's companions in prayer. In matters of life style, such as religious garb, types of work, freedom to come and go, and close association with non-community persons, the individual's religious commitment is not viewed as precluding choices similar to those of the Christian laity. This brief overview of the traditional approach to religious life and contemporary tendencies has the danger of caricaturing both viewpoints. This presentation has attempted, nevertheless, to recall the predominant flavor of each approach, while realizing the nuancing and variations embodied in religious communities. We shall now turn our attention to some questions associated with this immense shift from an obedience-centered spirituality to the value-centered spirituality of personal responsibility. Stressing Values Today Religious grew accustomed to viewing life as "doing what I'm told." Withthe growing reliance on person responsibility and on one's own con-science, rather than on the Rule and superiors, some religious today drift aimlessly. Formerly, they were trained to look for virtue and sin in indi-vidual acts, especially when the Rule, customs of the community, or the will of the superior would be at stake. Abandonment of this law-centered-ness in their community may leave them wondering what spirituality now implies for them. They may understandably fail to grasp that the basic failure to clarify personally accepted values in such matters as prayer, poverty, chastity, and coresponsibility all entail immense accountability. Likewise, the challenge to assume responsibility for one's life, to respond to the needs of people by taking initiative and risk, to prepare for one's 994 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 apostolate, to continue one's education by personal study, and to serve others selflessly is the vast field of human and Christian values which con-stitute spirituality for them. Religious may, therefore, lack the clearcut criteria of the past; but their personal sense of God's calling and of conscientious Christian response will surely point out areas of concern and of neglect to grow, whether they be prayer, concern for the neighbor, or personal growth in ensuring healthy psychological development. How one strives to pray, to serve others, to manifest responsibility in the apostolate, to be poor, chaste, and a contrib-uting member of the community all take on more connotations for a Chris-tian which cannot be carefully and casuistically delineated in the manner of past moral theology and religious spirituality. They nonetheless embody the task of spirituality for religious today. The individual religious and those who minister to religious have a joint responsibility to reflect on the entirety of Gospel values and to apply them in their lives today; to chal-lenge religious when neglect of these values has however subtly crept in; to assist the person in facing himself or herself and in deepening con-victions about Christian values. The Christian calling for religious today, then, is to center their lives on taking more seriously gospel values and to live within the overall frame-work proper to any Christian, as applied in their concrete circumstances. In the past decade, significant progress has occurred in moral theology in reformulating and expressing the way of life revealed in Jesus. These developments hold good promise for our appreciation of Christian spiritu-ality. The following brief presentation of some main lines of these develop-ments will have a direct bearing on the question of a spirituality relevant for religious today: The Framework of Christian Life A personalist approach to theology may be discerned in contemporary literature. This holds true for moral theology in a spec.ial fashion where many authors now present the Christian life centered on the theme of God's call and man's response. This contrasts considerably with the more abstractionist and law-centered approach of former times. The Trinitarian framework of the way of life preached by Jesus provides an overall structure of God approaching man and offering Himself to him: "We shall come to him and make our abode with him." Passages of Sacred Scripture where Jesus promises to send the Spirit and to live among us, or where He pictures God as a Father close to His sons, offer an image of God and man in intimate relationship. Each person is approached by a loving and con-cerned God and .challenged to respond personally to Him. This "call-response" morality and spirituality replace the former stress on law and selfrperfection, in the basic meaning of grace, God's self-gift, God gives Himself to man and acts in him, enabling him to respond. Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 995 .~ New Testament teaching indicates the chief manifestation of this love of God to be the way in which we love our neighbor. The one virtue of charity directed toward God and man holds a primacy over all other virtues, including obedience. The law-centered approach of older moral theology has thus given way to a love-centered approach, viewed as more faithful to Jesus' teaching. No impersonal law governs the Christian; rather life may be seen in its entirety as a response to a personal and loving God. "Falling in love" with God expresses the main task of Christian conversion to the Lord which Jesus preached. A morality of relationship conceived along theseolines thus sees each person in dialogue with God and meeting God in the~ events, people, and prayer experiences of daily living. Within this personalist framework of loving response to God's invitation, the central role of Jesus in Christian living has become a major theme. Jesus presents Himself as our way, truth, and life, and other New Testament writers see our union with Jesus as a basic fact of the Christian way of life. This conception of Jesus' relationship with the Christian believer ranges far beyond viewing Him as an external model or pattern to be imitated or mimicked~ God has approached man and .continues to invite man in Jesus His Son who in a humanity like ours responded selflessly. United in Him, we have received the capacity to respond selflessly too. As sons in the Son of God, we become immersed ~in His destiny and receive a personal invitation to enter into~intimate relationship with Him. Any spirituality which merits the name Christian must, therefore, see this personal relationship with Jesus as the focal point~°or core element. The individual religious and those charged with direction should, then, confront 'this fundamental Christian vision in a constant way. Such confrontation at this deep level of Christian life moves well past lesser issues to the core of religious life: the task of answering the call to "Come, follow me." A Continuing Process Man's response to God's personal call is seen as a continuing process, not simply as a series of individual acts. Contemporary theologians em-phasize greatly the life direction, or orientation'which a person gradually assumes ,toward God, manifested in his love of the neighbor. This basic choice, or fundamental option, as it has been termed, grows throughout one's life into a commitment in faith and love which, underlies all individual acts and does not easily waver or disappear. The exceptional concern with individual acts familiar to all who formerly studied moral theology has thus lessened, if not vanished entirely, in present-day moral theology. Rather than becoming excessively concerned with individual choices alone, the believer is urged to see the Holy Spirit guiding him from within as his primary law; The Christian should, in the mind of St. Paul, deepen this lifegrowth through increasing personal response to the Spirit and become further removed from the "law of sin and death," from which Jesus set 996 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 us free. For religious working within this perspective, the Spirit Himself would be viewed as one's guidance. All other norms or regulations can occupy only a secondary and peripheral place in the Christian life for the faithful Christian. Religious life can never imply the abandonment of this glorious heritage of Christians: their freedom as God's children to follow the Spirit which moves them to discern the task of love. Viewed in this broad perspective, Christian life and spirituality are a continuous conversion to God through one's free and full disposal of him-self. This occurs at a profound level of the human person and becomes manifested in acts which may reveal, though they sometimes hide, his actual inner state. In contrast with traditional ascetical theology, which gave some prominence to the three ways of the spiritual life, a contemporary treat-ment of Christian living would stress this Biblical notion of gradual, yet continuing conversion to God and the neighbor, which avoids the artificial-ity of the division of the spiritual life into the purgative, illuminative, and unitive ways. The openendedness of conversion to a lifetime of development, moreover, cuts against merely "getting by" in a minimalistic interpretation of Christian life and also allows more of a positive emphasis. Humanism, the World, and Life-giving Moral and ascetical theology often mentioned a division between natural and supernatural virtues, motives, or elements in man. Whatever seemed merely "natural" took on a rather base meaning for the believer swept into the Christian life of perfection. Unfortunately, this two-storyed approach to~ the question of the relationship between nature and grace can lend the wrong connotation that natural human features such as emo-tions, sexuality, humor, a vibrant personality, and a keen sense of joy do not have much place in a "supernatural" universe. This happened in many a religious formation program. Repression of feelings, human qualities, and one's individual characteristics follow too readily in this atmosphere. A packaged and stereotyped religious may emerge as an ideal. Spiritual direction and personal reflection of religious today must cope realistically with the unhealthy consequences of these false understandings which contemporary theology has abandoned. Christian spirituality should instead acknowledge the goodness of all that is human: emotions, sexuality, temperament, personality, and the like should enter into the Christian response of the whole person. Development and fulfillment of these truly human aspects of the person should be incorporated into any authentic approach to Christian spirituality. An inescapable element in contemporary theology has been a growing concern with the here-and-now, with real people living in the present world. Secularization theology made that' emphasis predominant: Despite the enormous stress today on the virtue of hope and the image of God calling us from and toward Our future, theology sees this challenge of the Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 997 future kingdom as urging us even now to concern ourselves with man in his present-day strivings and problems. Building the kingdom of justice, peace, harmony, and love should not simply be relegated to the afterlife. A Christian spirituality directed beyond this world would, then, neglect this essential element. That God may be found at the deepest point of the human and that other persons, events, and nature itself reveal God to the believer's .eye are the sorts of emphases common in contemporary literature which apply directly to an updated spirituality for religious. How might religious serve the world in profound love? How might they enter into dynamic relationship with people .and not be unduly separated from them? Christian discernment must focus on such central questions. The prevailing mood of today's theology, finally, seems far more optimistic, joyful, and hopeful than did traditional moral and ascetical theology. This may result from the importance assigned to the Resurrection in today's literature. Some years ago, more emphasis was placed on the Passion and Death of Jesus, and in a way which sometimes failed to take sufficient account of his victory over suffering and death. This distorted theology of the cross led inevitably to a glorification of suffering, pain, or deprivation in an unchristian and masochistic way. Dread, anxiety, negativ-ism, or pessimism runs counter to the life-filled Spirit which animates and invigorates the believer. Celebration of the forces of life and love is a more authentic Christian disposition. The search for life-giving, rather than death-dealing forces should be a prime sign of Christian humanism. A joyless Christian spirituality will, therefore, hopefully find fewer adherents today than might formerly have been the case. That suffering and a certain death will precede life and resurrection, as they did for Jesus, appears of course in today's theology. This aspect of Christian life and spirituality does not, however, receive as much prominence as formerly and it is placed into the broader perspective of the entire Paschal mystery. Religious might well aim at assuming more of this joyful,, hopeful, and optimistic tone into their spirituality, which should rest ultimately on their trust and confidence in God's power. Results of These Emphases These comments clearly do not lead to a detailed and specific spirituality which brings into the forefront a set of uniform practices. Pluralism in forms of spirituality, then, would be taken for granted within this broad Christian framework. Regulations, spiritual exercises, and rigid conformity recede to the background. A spirituality based on a personal response to God in Christ, through the action of the Holy Spirit, replaces a spirituality founded on a morality of law arid of individual acts. The stress on avoidance of sin, on obligation, and on negativism which characterized some former writings will appear unusual, if not unchristian, to a person versed in these recent approaches. Is life becoming a YES to God? Is the person choosing 998 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 more and more to reach out to God and to others selflessly, after the pattern of God's own Son? Is the person gradually gaining the sense of giving himself over to the action of the Holy Spirit from within, relying on His guidance in a spirit of freedom and joy? The concerns evidenced in these sorts of questions become more central in the person's spirituality. Because Christian holiness implies personal response to a loving God, leading to genuine friendship with Him, it rules out a merely instinctual approach to religious of Christian life. Blind and irrational impulse does not equal religious fervor. Fetishes, superstitions, empty traditions, and formalistic ritualism, without inner meaning, have no place in a human or Christian way of life. Authentic tradition and ritual will buttress Christian convictions and express them in continuity with the past Christian com-munity. Sheer compulsive activity without an inner giving of oneself to God in personal union with Him as a friend to a friend, on the other hand, duplicates the empty observances of the Pharisees condemned by Jesus. Holiness can never be viewed as measured by a proliferation of regulations or observances. A legalistic approach to "following the Rule," without a sufficient inner sense of responding to God and the neighbor as the main animating criterion of a believer's life, deserves to die its death. Even one's approach to such laudatory practices as confession of one's sins, the rosary, the Divine Office, and Eucharist, must avoid an attitude of "just fulfilling my obligation." Unless such prayers spring from genuine interior disposi-tions, they fail to be authentic religious acts. The Goal and the Means Implicit in the foregoing, but deserving special mention, is the oft-repeated, but as frequently forgotten, distinction between the goal of spirituality and the means to attain it. Spiritual exercises, however devo-tional and fervent, do not of themselves constitute one's life of loving union with God and the neighbor, toward which all genuine spirituality leads. All prayers, orders of day, and other structures and forms, have a relative, not an absolute value as contributing hopefully to the deepening of this relationship with the Triune God. Spiritual direction and religious life itself, therefore, should allow room for individual differences in fostering the goals of spirituality and they should not unduly absolutize spiritual exercises by making them, in effect, goals unto themselves. A spirituality based on personal responsibility leads more often than not, it seems, to a lessening of communal prayers. IneVitably, this creates tensions between individual and communal° needs in the matter of prayer. This problem is not easily resolved, and pluralism and polarization emerge forcefully in this context. The desire for smaller group living in like-minded communities sometimes stems from this factor alone. Dialogue, sensitivity to one another, and a genuine desire for a Christian prayer community will go a long way in calming the waters. Experience indicates, however, that Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 999 the broader issue of unity in diversity within religious communities comes to bear on this point. Universal solutions have not been discovered to cope with this problem. Certainly, charity, an ability to compromise, and unify-ing leadership are indispensable qualities in such situations. Without their presence, the praying community inevitably dissolves into factions. The spirituality outlined previously will also, as has been briefly men-tioned, have important consequences for the overall tone or mood which religious adopt in their lives. Religious have a meaning in the Church as an intense cell of vibrant Christian life. They are constantly seen in Church documents and in their own self-understandings in constitutions as signs of God's love working among men and of His grace operating in the hearts of all people. When documents state that religious witness to heavenly values, this implies that religious should show by their lives what faith in God can mean: hope, confidence, optimism in ultimate destinies; faith and charity in everyday concerns. Religious should be encouraged to develop these qualities and not to repress or bury their emotional aliveness. In moving away from an excessively obedience-centered approach, religious should thus replace it with a Christian life and spirituality centered on faith, love, hope in God and in ultimate realities, manifested in their love and service to mankind. These constitute the primary gospel values. More emphasis on these values, rather than on the more peripheral elements of religious life, should characterize a renewed religious life and spirituality. Prayer or Prayers Our remarks on spiritual exercises as a means to the goal of union in prayer have not addressed real issues which arise and merit special con-sideratioia. Mandated spiritu~l exercises have indeed disappeared almost entirely in some communities and lessened in number in nearly all. Even Eucharistic participation may occur on a private basis in many religious houses and communal prayer may occur only a few times weekly or perhaps less. These changes in regulations concerning prayers do not answer com-pletely a religious' concern for growth in prayer life, beyond any minimum set down by legal regulations or common agreement. The fact that daily Office in common or in private, common meditation, and spiritual reading are no longer enjoined by Rule, for example, does not settle the question for the individual religious. It may well be that the Spirit is moving the person to an exceptionally developed prayer life. An unexceptionable Christian challenge and calling is that of praying in, through, and with Jesus: How is this religious man or woman facing into this challenge? By escape and saying that practically all prayer forms are irrelevant? That spiritual reading, even of Sacred Scripture, fails to attract? That meditation in common is not necessary and yet, without the support of other praying Christians, I rarely pray reflectively at all? That daily Eucharist is not a necessity, so.I go once or twice weekly? A religious 1000 / Review 1or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 can argue any of these points or patterns of behavior and rightly claim that none of them is intrinsically necessary for a Christian life. This might well be the case in abstract terms. In the concrete, however, patterns of neglect in prayer and failure to grow vibrantly in the Christian life as a dedicated religious tie together more frequently than by sheer chance. That the person prays little can be the overall impression. Beyond one's protestations about personal prayerfulness in general, the individual religious and those who assist religious might inquire about the person's actual formal prayer, about those times when the religious places himself in God's presence and speaks, however non-verbally, or simply holds himself open to the Spirit's action. "My work is my prayer," in particular, seems a peculiarly sure way of not praying genuinely in the long run in a deep and constant fashion, if this laudable attitude is not accompanied by some periods of personal reflective prayer and communal sharing of prayerfulness in a limited way at least. Omission of specific prayers does not of itself constitute the reality termed mortal sin, in light of present-day understandings of the fundamental option theory. One would, in fact, be hard put to pin any label of sin on any given lack of praying some spiritual exercises. Yet the individual religious should ask himself constantly about his personal prayer life beyond any legal require-ments and explain to himself just how his life of prayer fits within his overall commitment to grow ever more deeply into the life pattern of the crucified and risen Lord, in contact with His Father and in service unreservedly of His brothers. Religious Consecration by Vow The suggested framework of Christian spirituality based on personal responsibility implies too that all considerations about the vows must touch on the value underlying each vow. The religious Rule' which formerly enshrined the value intended by the vow has usually changed these days beyond recognition. Poverty permissions have all but disappeared from many communities; religious may receive a monthly stipend and be com-pletely responsible for their own financing, especially in small group living. The tight restrictions surrounding and protecting chastity have changed: clothing, hairstyling and covering, use of cosmetics, freedom to associate and to form friendships with the other sex have much novelty about them. Coordinators in place of local superiors or local coresponsibility without any such individual authority have diffused the sense of obedience for many religious. The basic value underlying each vow must, therefore, be stressed in this changed atmosphere. Theologically, the vows relate to the religious' fundamental Christian calling and consecration in baptism, whereby the person enters into the mystery of Christ's death and rising to new life. Each evangelical vow furthers this initial commitment to growth in Christ. Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 1001 The most basic value, then, will tie in with Christ-centeredness: that each vow should promote one's relationship with Christ. The vows will never be understood as implying hatred of the goods of this world, or of sexual intimacy, or of personal responsibility and freedom. Instead, poverty implies a liberating of energy, attention, and time from concentration on material welfare to imitate and become united to the poor Christ in His radical dependence on the Father. The value of chastity will not be just for ease or efficiency in the apostolate, or for avoidance of sexual arousal and union with another person. Rather, chastity as God's gift frees a person to give oneself over to God in love completely and to open oneself to all people, without centering one's love on one person sexually. The value accepted in obedience, finally, will be a basic sense of openness to the Spirit of Jesus, working where He will and particularly through the community. Religious consecration by vow thus implies a renunciation of self-fulfill-ment by material goods, sexual and loving involvement and union with one person, and fully autonomous behavior free of communal concerns. The person chooses to live his Christian response to God's call in more radical dependence on Him and in reaching for and living in the future, while enjoying the present. Only a constant striving for a deeper relation-ship and union with the Son in the death-life cycle of His self-emptying love can make possible this Christian vision. Religious have freely chosen these profound values which remain despite the removal of legal require-ments about the vows. Faithful to his religious calling, each religious must heed the call God addresses to him to live these values. Conclusion For all Christians and therefore for all religious, the challenge of Chris-tian spirituality entails responding personally in an open-ended fashion to God, avoiding satisfaction with the minimalism of merely "getting by," seeing life as love-centered, not sin-centered or law-centered, and establish-ing a personal relationship with Jesus by faithfulness to His Spirit at work in our hearts. Religi.ous men and women who live this kind of spirituality .certainly adopt an idealism which surpasses the ordinary. Yet this idealism embodies the rich heritage of the freeing message of the Good News: that through the liberating action of the Spirit of Jesus all His followers are enabled and urged to cry out Father and to spend themselves selflessly for others, in the image of Jesus. Now My Eye Sees Thee: The Bible as a Record of Religious Experience C. M. Cherian, S.J. Father Cherian, a professor of Sacred Scripture, lives at Vidya Jyoti; Delhi 6, India. This article first appeared in Clergy Monthly, March 1973, pages 90-100. It is re-printed here with the kind permission of the editor of Clergy Monthly. It is well known that, in pre-Vatican II scholastic theology, the reality of faith was conceived of as an intellectual assent to religious truths rather than a personal commitment to God in Jesus Christ. This conception is reflected in the description of faith given by the First Vatican Council. Faith is "a supernatural virtue by which we believe, with the inspiration and help of God's grace, that what He has revealed is true." Attention is directed to the particular truths that God has revealed, to the intellectual acceptance of these truths, not to God Himself or personal submission to Him who is Truth. And there is some emphasis on the obscurity and weakness of the perception involved. We believe "not be-cause we perceive the intrinsic truth of the things revealed, but because of the authority of God Himself who revealed them, and who can neither be deceived nor deceive." The impression created is that of some second-hand borrowed knowledge whose acceptance is "commanded" by our grace-supported will. Dangers of This Approach In such an approach there is the danger that faith-life may be thought of as being essentially and largely an intellect-and-will affair which does not necessarily involve a person in the experience of a direct relationship with God and of a new life in Him. The obscuring of the personalist aspect of faith in the minds of theologians and pastors had consequences for the religious instruction of the faithful. They were not sufficiently helped to The Bible and Religious Experience / 1003 understand their grace-life in personalistic and existential terms. The legacy of this old approach is still evident in the lives of the faithful, especially the more educated among them. They fight shy of a personal approach to God, and are incapable or distrustful of spontaneous personal prayer and of active involvement and sharing in common worship. Recently a group of educated Catholic young lay men and women, who were taking a course on the Psalms, told the present writer that several of them had serious difficulty about accepting personally the reality of God as Creator, Savior and Judge. The furthest they could go was to accept the message of Christ and give an intellectual assent to the Catholic doctrine about God. They frankly confessed that they had no personal experience of God. Still St. John says that what Christ, the Son of God, has done is to make the Father known (Jn 1:18). The grace of Christ consists in our receiving the adoption of sons and being enabled to say "Abba,.Father" to God (Gal 4:4). Neglect ot Personal Religious Experience A byproduct of the intellectual approach to the Christian faith was the almost complete neglect of the whole area of personal religious experience. Historically Catholics in the West could not agree with certain schools and theories of religious experience which represented an aberration from the truth, so far as they questioned either the validity of human reason or the certainty of objective Christian revelation. But this does not mean that anybody could repudiate the right kind of religious experience which is manifested and communicated everywhere in the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures themselves, and in the Scriptures of other religions. The Scrip-tures are obviously the God-given guide to genuine religious experience, and, so far as they are inspired, they are God's instrument for the com-munication of the right kind of religious experience. The Workshop Handbook (Vol. I), published by the "All-India Seminar on the Church in India Today," contains some valuable insights into the question we are examining here. The Report of the Workshop on Spirituality points out that Christianity is essentially the handing down o[ the experience that Jesus Christ, the perfect Man, had o] God the Father and His love and plan. He communicated this experience to the Apostles. In them it took the form of a total personal commitment to God in Jesus Christ, the risen Lord, and a sensitivity to the leading and guidance of the Holy Spirit. All the external means and practices of the Church are directed towards enabling the faithful to personally appropriate the inner living experience of the risen Lord, which implies a total conversion. It is the personal religious experience of the prophets, Apostlesl and other holy men that was expressed in the words of the Scriptures and in liturgical and other formulas and in ritual actions. A fundamental pastoral problem consists in making 1004 / Review for Religious, l/'olume 32, 1973/5 sure that, while we are busily engaged in passing on the rites and the formulas, we also succeed in transmitting the inner personal experience that they are meant to express, the experience that can be summed up in such words as: "We have seen the Lord" (Jn 20:25; see 1:14) or "My Lord and my God" (Jn 20:28) or "Lord, You know that I love You" (Jn 21:17). Old Testament Data The Scriptures make it clear throughout that men are called to a life of personal intimacy with God. The Genesis story says that man is made in the image of God. This means that men are capable of personal com-munion with God and of being transformed info God's likeness, the likeness of His Son. It is sin that makes Adam want to hide himself from God. The work of redemption consists, therefore, in saving the lost and restoring them to that closeness to God for which they were created. Abraham and Jacob God appears to Abraham with the message: "1 am God Almighty; walk before Me and be blameless. I will make My covenant between Me and you . . .'" (Gen 17). Biblical religion consists essentially in this I-thou relationship, in men learning to conduct themselves in the presence of God. This is the secret of their holiness. It must mean that man stands in awe of the God of heaven and earth, is never deaf to His voice, is never unaware of the demands of His love and plan, and is never deliberately unfaithful to these demands. In Genesis 28 we see that Jacob's ambition and over-cleverness have landed him in deep trouble. He is obliged to flee Palestine to escape from his brother's wrath. He is terribly lonely and desolate. God's grace is .a.t work in this man-made crisis. God uses it in order to quicken Jacob's notional faith into a deeply personal faith. He has an experience of God being present, and addressing him, and renewing the promises made to his fathers, so that he exclaims: "Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it" (Gen 28: 16). This statement is meant to express what is typical of man's condition. In the narratives about the appearances of the risen Lord to His disciples, we are repeatedly told that He was with them on various occasions, but at first they did not recognize Him (see Lk 24:16; Jn 20: 14; 21:4). The maturity of our faith consists in our becoming aware that the Lord cannot be absent, that He is savingly active here and now, and wants us to respond to Him. Moses and Elijah Moses has the task of leading and guiding God's people in the wilder-ness of Sinai. He is convinced that nothing but personal intimacy and familiarity with the Lord and constant consultation with Him can enable The Bible and Religious Experience / 1005 him to fulfil his arduous mission. Consequently his prayer is: "I pray You, if I have found favor in Your sight, show me now Your ways~ that I may know You . . . I pray You, show me Your glory . . ." (Exod 33). The Lord granted this prayer, and thus Moses was empowered to act as the leader of God's people: "The Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks to his friend" (ibid.; see Num 12:8). Prophet Elijah had worked wonders in God's service. He brought about the utter defeat of the false priests of Baal, and the triumph of God's cause against idolatry. But he suddently becomes a prey to such serious depression as makes him want to die; he finds that God's cause is not making enough headway among the people as a whole, and his own life is in danger. In this crisis he is inspired to retire into the desert of Sinai. Here he has the exhilarating experience of an encounter with God. Through it he now understands what the tumultuous happenings of his prophetic ministry could not teach him. He hears the "still small voice" of God consoling him and reassuring him. He is so thoroughly renewed and strengthened by this experience of quiet communion with God that he is now fully ready for the new adventurous mission that God entrusts to him (1 Kgs 18-19). Job and Isaiah Job has been thrown completely off his balance by the series of disasters he suffered. He becomes "a fault-finder contending with the Almighty." He is full of complaints against God and His government of the world. He is ready to put God in the wrong that he himself might be justified. But finally he is completely transformed through having learned humbly to listen to God, and he receives enlightenment: "I have uttered what I did not under-stand . . . I had heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You. therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes" (Job 42). Job's conventional ideas about God and His providence have been changed into a personal experience of His mystery by which Job under-stands that "God cannot be called to account, and that His wisdom may give an .unsuspected meaning to such realities as suffering and death" (Jerusalem Bible, note). In the Jerusalem Temple Isaiah has an unexpected extraordinary experience of the all-holy God being present in all His glory. Th

Issue 40.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1981. ; REVIEW ~:o~ RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REvmw ~-oR REt.~_;tous is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1981 by REVIEW ~:o1~ REtAC;~OUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year; $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders nr change of address, write: Rt:v~t.:w toR Rt:t.~(aous; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Jeremiah L. Alberg, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July/August, 1981 Volume 40 Number 4 Manuscripts, bonks for review and correspundence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR Rt:t.l(aOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questinns for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Communily; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW I-'OR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms Internalional; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor. MI 48106. Spiritual Freedom John R. Sheets, S.J. Father Sheets. a frequent contributor to these pages, is a member of the Department of Theology at Creighton University. His last article to appear was "Let My People Go--The Passion for Jus-tice" (May. 1977). Father resides with the Jesuit community at Creighton University: 2500 Cali-fornia Street; Omaha, NE 68178. There are words which are "mystery words," words which somehow attempt to capture the mystery of existence, words like spirit, heart, love, freedom, person. Such a mystery word is "spiritual freedom." Often we tend to reduce the content of such words to what can be categor-ized in the same way as are objects. In this way, we tend to evacuate them of their depth meaning. With such words, more is left out than the little that is said. They are words which suggest and allude, rather than explain. I preface this article with these remarks, because ! would not want to give the impression that I am going to unravel the meaning of spiritual freedom. If it is explained in such a way that it is completely exposed to the gaze of reason, then it has been reduced to an object, and we will have missed ihe real meaning of spiritual freedom. If I were to do justice to the.topic, 1 would have to approach it at length from three different points of view: first of all, from a philosophical perspec-tive, seeing how it is rooted in human nature; then, how spiritual freedom is realized in Christ; finally, how the spiritual freedom of the Christian is the actualization, in some limited fashion, of the very spiritual freedom of Christ, since we are found incorporate in Christ Jesus through our baptism, lived out in faith. It is not possible, obviously, to deal with the subject adequately on any one of these levels, let alone all three. 1 shall move back and forth, therefore, among these three levels, the philo-sophical, the Christological, "and what can be called the Christian anthro- 481 4112 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 pological, realizing the sketchy nature of this approach. Again, if 1 wanted to do justice to the topic, it would be necessary to. explain at length what is meant by spiritual bondage. Spiritual freedom is always an overcoming of spiritual bondage. Except in Christ and Mary, spiri-tual freedom coexists with the enigma of evil. In us spiritual freedom is always a victory over evil. It exists in us in a way which is ongoing, fragile, subject to temptation, preliminary. Philosophy can get to some appreciation of the enigmatic character of human freedom. However, it is only through Revela-tion that we know the roots of this enigma in man's turning away from God, bringing about the unholy alliance of good and evil in his heart. The Polarities of Human Existence I shall use as a framework for developing the meaning of spiritual freedom the polarities Dr. Macquarrie uses to describe human nature (Principles of Christian Theology, Scribners, New York, 1977, #11 "Human Existence and its Polarities"). But before sketching out these polarities, I should attempt to give some broad description of what is meant by spiritual freedom. Spiritual freedom is that capacity we have to actualize authenticity, the potential of self-realization, the power to become genuinely, fully, integrally human. The path of spiritual freedom is not arbitrary. It is the response to our vocation in its most radical sense, the call to be human. There is within us the instinctive capacity for that call. It is a call from ahead, from the future, lead-ing, beckoning us, drawing us out of ourselves. Every act of spiritual freedom brings not merely more things into the world. In a mysterious way, it brings more humanness, and in this way even brings more of the divine into the world. It is our most creative act. To the degree that spiritual freedom releases spirit, as it were, into the world, to that degree does spirit stamp the world of matter, leaving its imprint. For this reason, spiritual freedom is always found in what is most the expression of man's spirit, as in culture, art, literature, language. Spiritual freedom, then, is always a reaching out to a new mode of being present in the world. It is always a growth in personal existence over the impersonal, of the spontaneity of spirit over the inertia of matter, of liberation from bondage. It is always costly, never cheap, until it acquires the wings of ¯ the spirit itself, to the extent (and this takes place only completely in the resur-rected body) that matter itself becomes spiritualized. However, since it is always only partially realized in us in this life, spiritual freedom will always meet with the resistance of spiritual bondage. I come now to the way that Dr. Macquarrie speaks of human existence in terms of different polarities. He in turn has borrowed the framework from the philosopher, Martin Heidegger. It is important to realize that when he speaks of polarities, Dr. Macquarrie is not speaking of polarizations, or opposites, existing in some kind of stand-off. Rather, the term polarity means a vital tension which is constructive in Spiritual Freedom itself. However, when the polarity is out of balance, then it can indeed become a polarization, or a destructive tension. Facticity- Possibility The first polarity is that offacticity-possibility. By facticity, Macquarrie means the "givens" in our life, those aspects of our life which constitute our limitations. Each of us has an innumerable number of limitations. We exist at a certain point of time and place, rather than at some other, with limitations of talent, intelligence, physical strength, with other limitations coming from our senses. We are ultimately limited by our life-span, which is terminated by that which puts a limit to all aspects of one's existence (if I am speaking merely from the viewpoint of appearances), namely, death. These aspects of the givens of my life come mainly because of the fact that 1 am not simply spirit, but embodied spirit. Through my body, I am related to the world of facticity, of space and time, having the same dependence on the "ecosystem" for life that any material thing has with its limitations. However, there is the other aspect of this polarity, the element of possi-bility. This is the capacity not simply for more things, but for more being, not only to become bigger physically, but to become more human. This possibility is rooted in our spirits. The very nature of spirit is.to expand what is con-tracted, to release from limits. There is a kind of imperative written within the human spirit that is like the words of Christ to the crowd after the resurrection of Lazarus, "Unbind him and let him go." The spirit in man is an enabling, freeing spirit, where the possibilities of the future reach into our limitations to draw us to new levels of humanity. The interaction of these two aspects of our existence, namely, facticity and possibility, make us realize that genuine creativity only exists in interaction with limitations. We often have the illusion that freedom is found ultimately in being free of all limitations. On the contrary, genuine freedom is always in process. It is the process of interacting in a creative way with limitations. "Creativity itself requires limits, for which the creative act arises out of the struggle of human beings with and against that which limits them" (The Courage to Create, Rollo May [Bantam Books, New York, p. 134]). Even in the growth of the natural sciences, as well as the arts, all progress comes only through the interaction of possibility with limitations. The present struggle to find new sources of energy, for example, is stimulated by the ex-perience of our limited supply of energy sources in conventional forms. Every artist knows that creativity is the result of dealing with the limitations of wood, words, paint, sound. The seeming unlimited gracefulness of the ballet dancer takes place within the most stringent of all laws, that of gravity. In the abstract, it is fairly easy to speak of dealing creatively with our limi-tations. In the concrete, however, the polarities of facticity and possibility are often out of balance. This can take place in many ways. One can refuse to acknowledge the limitations of his concrete existence, those which are part ~11t~1 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 and parcel of the life of any creature, or those which belong to him in a unique way because of his circumstances. In Greek mythology this is the primary sin, that ofhybris, pride, the refusal to acknowledge that we are not God. It is the demonic instinct in man, like that found in the many different versions of the same demonic mystery, the story of Dr. Faustus Who rebelled against his limi-tations seeking even from the devil possibilities beyond the human. On the other hand, there is also the resistance to genuine possibilities, those which call forth from the individual a creative response to his limita-tions. The norm of judging every genuine possibility is the degree to which response brings forth the enhancement of life. Where I r~sist this invitation to growth, there is a diminishment, not only in my own life, but in the world around me. Faced with a new level of possibility, 1 am also faced with costly freedom. There is the tendency, then, to retreat from risk, the risk of responsi-bility, there is the instinct to remain safe, where response to the call to greater being is a challenge to come alive on a new level. Whenever genuine possibility is resisted, the slavery to spiritual bondage becomes greater. Parenthetically, no one ever described this anxiety before creative growth more profoundly than did Soren Kierkegaard. His reflections did not proceed from some abstract philosophizing, but from his own experience of "dizziness" when confronted with the abyss of freedom, when confronted with creative possibility. The polarity of facticity and possibility can be out of balance, then, in dif-ferent ways: either through the denial of limitations (which is at the same time the unrealistic expansion of one's possibilities), or through the resistance to genuine possibilities, because of the fear of the cost of the commitment to a new, unexperienced form of life. It is the risk of faith. Applying this more explicitly to our topic of spiritual freedom, we can say that spiritual freedom is that power to deal creatively with our limitations, neither going beyond them through pride, nor resisting genuine possibilities through diffidence. There are, then, two fundamental dispositions keeping these two polarities in a creative balance: humility, acknowledging our limitations, and generosity, opening ourselves to new levels of the manifestation of spirit. It is the spirit in man which mediates the creative tension between these two polarities, respecting limitations, but not in a static way, and opening us to new possibilities. But with the gift of the Holy Spirit, there is the raising of this creative tension to a totally new dimension, both in terms of the realization of our creatureliness (our limitations), and also to as yet unheard-of possibilities, "things beyond our seeing, things beyond our hearing, things beyond our imagining, all prepared by God for those who love him: these it is that God has revealed to us through the Spirit" (I Co 2:9-10). Concretely the creative tension between limitations and possibilities means finding the will of God in our lives. The "will of God" is that creative bridge Spiritual Freedom / 485 between where we are and where we should be. The Holy Spirit is the source of this instinct for the more in our lives. The human spirit by its nature moves us toward the more in a human way by imprinting its stamp.on the world of matter. The Holy Spirit, particularly within the ecclesial community, reaches to the more of the kingdom of God. Another way of expressing this movement to the more is openness in our hearts to a master-vision and a master-commitment. The essence of spiritual bondage is fragmentation, wherein the different aspects of our human nature each seeks its own goals. We are not one self, then, but many selves contend-ing with one another. We are driven by forces from beneath rather than drawn by our call from above. The power to make a gift of our whole self to a center, a master-vision and a master-commitment, is the highest expression of spiritual freedom. In Christ we find the fullness of the master-vision and the master-com-mitment, the absolute gift of himself to the Father and his will. In the tempta-tions in the desert we find the demonic, in its uncanny shrewdness, tempting Christ to an imbalance between the recognition of his limitations and the falsi-fication of his possibilities. He is tempted to overcome the limitations of his hunger by a miracle. His imagination is tempted with the possibility of a way of saving the world better than that of the Father--a sensational rescue mission by the Father. Finally, all the kingdoms of the world are offered him if he but change the master-vision and the master-commitment, to serve Satan rather than the Father. All of Christ's teaching is the invitation to take upon ourselves his own master-vision and master-commitment, and in this way open ourselves to unheard-of possibilities. The Sermon on the Mount offers new possibilities of love. He speaks of new possibilities of lifelong commitment in marriage, and new possibilities of a celibate life for the kingdom of heaven. "Let those accept it who can"(Mt 19:12). New possibilities of single-mindedness: "lf you wish to go the whole way, go, sell your possessions, and give to the poor, and then you will have riches in heaven; and come, follow me" (Mt 19:21). However, the supreme realization of the creative tension between limita-tions and possibility is the overcoming of the limitation of death. This is not done through some kind "of change in our way of looking at death, as in eastern spiritualities. Because we become incorporate in Christ Jesus, the crucified-risen Lord, the Lamb standing with the marks of execution upon him, our limitations are taken up into his possibility, now realized in his resur-rection. This takes place in us in a real way even now, though it is still only in its dawning stages waiting for its full realization, as St. Paul mentions so often. There are limitations which are imposed by our existence, our creature-liness. There are others which are self-imposed, where we enter a structure of limitations, freely assumed, in order to draw forth a more creative response. This is obviously true in marriage, wh6re a man and a woman limit themselves 41~6 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 and their whole lives to one another in a bond of love. Depending on the way they respond to these self-imposed limits, their lives can become a progressive manifestation of spiritual freedom, or degenerate into a deeper form of bondage. Similarly in the self-imposed limits of religious life through the vow of obedience, life can become, through obedience to law, rule, authority, either a progressive manifestation of spiritual freedom, or degenerate into legalism, self-love, self-will. The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius are ultimately a way to attain higher and higher levels of spiritual freedom. The First Week is aimed at putting our lives in order, recapturing the master-vision and the master-commitment. The meditation which serves as the "Principle and Foundation" for the rest of the Exercises is the meditation on the Call of Christ the King. This meditation is aimed at fostering within those who have the gift of God's grace a response to new possibilities, to share in the possibilities offered by the Father to Christ himself, a life of service as the Suffering Servant. Then Ignatius describes the response those will make who "want to show greater affection and to signalize themselves in every kind of service of their eternal king and universal Lord." In summary, then, we can say that every act of love, faith, hope, forgive-ness, every movement to the more of Christ's own possibilities is an act of spiritual freedom. Such responses leave not only the stamp of the human spirit on the world of matter, but the stamp of Christ on the world. Rationality-Affectivity The second polarity is rationality-affectivity. As human beings we have the capacity to get beneath appearances, beyond the way that things seem to us, to what is real, true, good. This is a power in which our Godlikeness is consti-tuted. God is the God of the real, the particular, the genuine. We are created to respond to the call of the real, to things which are God's words in a natural sense, and, in the sense of Revelation, to God's special words and even more to the Word-made-flesh. We have the power, then, to reach the real. Otherwise, we are doomed to the world of phenomena, appearances and feel-ings. And the call of the real could not reach us if this were the case. There would be no greater monstrosity than man, with yearnings for the real, bur-dened with a radical inability to fill his heart with what alone can satisfy it. The element of rationality is our avenue to the real. But the real is not some kind of"lump" of reality like a chemical deposit. The real itself is bathed in love, God's creative love: "And he saw that it was good." One cannot know, then, only with the mind, but also with the heart. For it is the heart that picks up the signals of love within the real, whereas the mind picks up what is true. The polarities of mind and heart are to be kept in a creative tension. If they are not in balance, if mind excludes heart, then we become rationalists, cold, calculating, manipulative. On the other hand, heart without mind degenerates into sentimentality, mood, temperament. When this is so, mind follows the shape of the heart, and turns into rationalization and self-deception. Spiritual Freedom / 4117 St. Paul expressed the requisite creative tension very well when he said, "Follow the truth in charity" (Ep 4:15). Truth without charity is a kind of spiritual bondage that limits our response to the real only to the level of the rational. Charity without truth is not really charity, but a simulation of it. It becomes mere sentiment, without roots in what is real°, without any focus for the master-vision and the master-commitment. It would be instructive, if we had time to go through the gospels, to see how these polarities are lived in a creative tension in Christ. No one judged sin more really than he did; yet no one loved the sinner more. This love was not merely some cold act of the will, of choice as a kind of cold deliberative act. The love was in his heart, feelings, emotions, not only in whom he loved, but in what he liked. That is why all of the outcast felt at home with him, because he felt at home with them. His judgments were formed only on what he had seen the Fath6r doing (Jn 5:!9), what the Father had entrusted to him (Lk 10:210. He did not rely on the concatenated statements of human authorities, as did the lawyers, nor on poli-tical or party or ethnic lines, as did the Various factions among the Jews. There is the simplicity, clarity, transparency in his words which comes from direct and immediate contact with reality, somewhat (but in a much deeper sense) in the same way that reality shines forth through the words of a great author. On the contrary we find judgment without heart in so many of the inci-dents in the gospels where the notion of law degenerated into pharisaic legal-ism. Reason was isolated from heart. Too, we find the isolation of feeling from reason, from judging according to the truth. John's summation of the reasons for Jesus' failure with the Jews was, "They valued the reputation with men rather than the honor which comes from God" (Jn 5:44). In other words, they did not open themselves to the truth because they were too concerned about what others thought. They lived on the level of feeling. The description that John gives of the reasons for Jesus' condemnation to death shows how the imbalance in this polarity of reason and feeling can be so destructive. Caiphas gave as the legitimating reason for Jesus' execution: "You kn.ow nothing whatever; you do not use your judgement; it is more to your interest that one man should die for the people, than that the whole nation should be destroyed" (Jn 11:50). The supreme irony is that the "judgment" was merely the legitimation of feeling, the feeling that thi~ man was a threat to their own well-being. It was not a judgment in truth. In the Spiritual Exercises, St. Ignatius wants us to be penetrated wholly by the whole truth: our feelings, our minds, our hearts. This 'basic orientation is stressed from the very beginning in the guidelines he sets: "For it is not to know much, but it is to understand and savor the matter interiorly, that fills .~ and satisfies the soul" (Annotation 2). In the meditation Lnvolwng the applica-tion of the senses he wants the whole of us to be taken into the mystery, and this includes our senses. In the Third Week, he wants us to "feel sorrow, afflic-tion, and confusion because for my sins our Lord is going to his Passion." But 41111 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 if Ignatius stresses feelings, he does not mean. mere mood. He means feelings that in some way are in touch with the reality, and carry an affective response to the reality. In us, then, spiritual freedom is that grace-given capacity to reach the truth in love. It is the overcoming of the bondage to the cold isolation of reason, or to the feeling divorced from reality. Hope-Anxiety The third polarity is that of hope-anxiety. Hope is the way that we pick up within the present the signals of the future. It picks up the element of promise in everything that attracts us. Perhaps this is the basis of the attraction we feel for the things that we perceive as still young, whether these be the seasons, like spring, or the youthfulness of children, or events which are filled with the future, which itself is like a gigantic canvas to be filled in during the rest of our lives. We witness this in those commitments which look to the whole of one's future: marriage, priesthood, religious life. Hope, then, is that disposition to live for the future as it offers genuine promise in the present. Hope implies effort. It is not automatic like the seasons. It is concerned with what has preferential value on a comparative scale. We really do not hope for things that are trivial. Hope implies persever-ance in the steps necessary to realize it. In other words, it involves fidelity, constancy to the means implicit in the commitment. Anxiety, as the other aspect of this polarity, does not mean a nervous kind of fear before something that threatens my well-being. It means a kind of keyed-up-ness that comes from the realization of the value of what I am seek-ing, of the need to be vigilant lest anything be omitted which might let my hope slip away. It is the same disposition stressed in the gospel as vigilance, being awake, not sleeping but watching. The elements in this polarity can be out of balance in various ways. Hope can turn into presumption when it fails to appreciate the unreachable aspects of certain goals 1 set for myself. Concretely, 1 presume that extrinsic help will somehow or other bridge some particular gap, or that I can achieve the goal by my own powers, whereas in reality the gap is unbridgeable in itself or by me alone. However, there is also the timidity which looks only at my own powers, instead of seeing that the fulfillment of my hope need not come from some kind of Pelagian self-achievement. It it always a collaborative effort, involving the help of others, those in the human community (society, Church, religious congregation), and the help of God. There is also the feeling of hopelessness or despair. This is one of the most radical aspects of spiritual bondage. It is the No Exit mentality of .lean Paul Sartre. Anxiety, ~hen, instead of being a kind of spiritual intensity which alerts to the signals of hope, can turn into a kind of spiritual bondage which paralyzes creative response to the promise in the present. It is the attitude of the man, described in the parable of the talents, who buried his talent because fear para- Spiritual Freedom lyzed him. He thought it would be enough to return simply what the master gave, not taking into account that a gift always contains a hope which has to be unfolded. In Christ we see the realization of both aspects of this polarity. "For the sake of the joy which was still in the future, he endured the cross, disregarding the shamefulness of it" (Heb 12:2). "1 have a baptism wherewith 1 am to be baptized, and how 1 am straitened until it be accomplished"(Lk 12:50). "With desire have 1 desired to eat this passover with you before 1 suffer" (Lk 22:15). What leads Jesus is the hope which is not merely future, coming at the end of what he does. It is a hope embodied in the present, in what he does. What he does holds the promise of the future. It involves constancy, perseverance, faithfulness to the end. "Having loved his own, he loved them unto the end" (Jn 13:1). He is alert, vigilant, never sleeping, not letting anything, any oppor-tunity slip from his hands to bring about the reign of his Father. Even where that alertness leads to the anxiety which shakes his whole being in the agony in Gethsemane, it is not the anxiety that paralyzes, removes from hope, but is lived in the realization that the Father will bring about the redemptive issue through the humiliation of the cross. In us, then, every act which is hope-full, responding to the genuine future which is in the present, to the promise which is like a seed at the heart of reality, is an act of spiritual freedom. In particular, every act which realizes the eschatological hope, the definitive hope brought to the world by Christ, is an act of spiritual freedom. Every act which overcomes meaninglessness, the sense of purposeless drift, is an act of spiritual freedom. Every act which is hope-raising, raising the level of hope of the human community, or the Church, provided it avoids presumption, is an act of spiritual freedom. It liberates not only oneself, but the human community. Similarly every act which has caught the urgency of the gospel calls for vigilance. This vigilance imposes by its own weight a sense of priorities, a per-spective from the perspective of Christ's own view at the right hand of the Father. Every such act is an act of spiritual freedom. On the contrary the reduction of human effort to the law of entropy which holds the world of matter in its grip, the "death-wish" in all things, the devalu-ation through natural processes of what is useful into what is useless, is suc-cumbing to spiritual bondage. Individual- Community The fourth polarity is that of individual-community. There are two insep-arable aspects to our personality as embodied spirit. Through our bodies we belong to a cosmos of things and a community of persons. It is through our bodies that we relate to a whole world of culture, language, ethnic identity, family, sexual differentiation. Because we are embodied spirit, we laugh, cry, feel good, feel bad, feel pain: and, because of our bodies, we suffer and die. The aspect of spirit in us belongs to the level of interiority, the power of 490 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 appropriating truth, goodness, beauty. It" is the capacity to grow through relationships. It is the power to reflect back on ourselves, that capacity to be what Heidegger terms the "clearing in the forest," where the light of Being enters into the world of things. In short, it is the gift of selfhood, one of those words which we cannot exhaust because the mystery of the self trails back into the realm of God's own spirit. The aspects of this polarity exist in a constructive tension where the indi-vidually liberated acts, acts manifesting spiritual freedom, become liberating for the community. We can see this in the history of a community where cer-tain individuals brought men to a new threshold of human consciousness, people like Socrates, for example, or the religious seers of the east, like Gotauma Siddhartha, or Mohammed, who brought a whole world from poly-theism to the worship of the one God, or Gandhi whose moral consciousness changed that of society. In turn the community mediates to the individuals that particular level of spiritual freedom it has reached. There is no doubt that the notions of liberty espoused in the foundational documents of the United States are both the culmination of a long history of individual effort, and have also mediated to the world at large a whole new level of awareness of the principles of freedom, never before realized in a civil community. On the contrary, the creative tension in this polarity can be broken when spiritual freedom degenerates into bondage. On the level of the individual, there can be closedness to the community dimension, through subjectivism, individualism, egocentricity, bringing about the fragmention of community. As cancerous cells in the body are in pathological condition in relationship to the whole of the body, the same is true of the individual who attempts to live a life in independence of the community. On the other hand, there can be the domination by the community which itself has become dispirited, where it has lost its roots in the creative aspects of the spirit. Perhaps there is no greater tyranny than that of the crowd. It is mindless, senseless, open to the demonic under the guise of the spirit. Instead of beckoning, drawing us into new vistas of hope and supporting basic human values, it becomes stifling. Bernard Lonergan speaks of the kind of darkness generated by a community which has lost its life: skotosis (borrowed from the Greek word). It means progressive darkening, dimming, cutting out the light. Finally the point is reached where one can no longer distinguish truth from mood, objective reality from what he feels and what he likes. It is the experience of this type of group-tyranny which drove someone like Kierkegaard into what perhaps was an extreme on the other side, namely, to a kind of stress on the individual which was antagonistic to group. But his basic insight was correct. There is nothing more overpowering and dehumanizing than the domination of the group which has lost the light, salt and leaven of the gospel. It is the danger inherent in the absolutizing of any particular truth, fol- Spiritual Freedom lowed by the diffusion of it through a group, where it turns into a movement. Then it gains its own dynamic, independent of the insight of the ones who generated it. It begins to live a life of its own, more ruthless in its tyranny, more intimidating in its coercion than any dictatorship which can be singled out and named. One thinks of the crusade that turned into a mob, sacking the city of Constantinople, and humiliating the Greek Church. The diffusion of a particular perspective to the point where it becomes identified with what has been called "group-think" takes place through a system of arteries which is already there: loyalties or resentments based on common ethnic roots, political affiliations, sexual roles, cultural affinities, economic interests. Soon convictions become slogans, slogans become labels, labels separate those who belong from the "outsiders." As we have seen in the other polarities which describe the complexity of human nature, in Christ there is found in a unique way the creative tension between the polarity of individual and community. In no other being do we find the situation where one could practically interchange person and com-munity. In fact he identifies himself with the community: "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?" (Ac 9:4). He is both a self, but also an extended self-in-his- members. In his treatment of the Trinity, Ratzinger describes how a whole new con-cept of person emerged through the struggles of the early Church councils to put into human language the trinitarian mystery (see Introduction to Chris-tianity [Seabury, New York, 1979, p. 130 f]). The concept of relation came to assume the same importance as substance. What is true in the trinitarian life is manifested in the human life of the Word-made-flesh. His whole existence is to be relative, from-the-Father, and for-us. This means that he is the only person who has ever verified in himself both the completeness of personhood and the completeness of community. For this reason, Paul describes the Church as the fullness of Christ, who has received all fullness from the Father (Ep 1:22-23). He speaks of the mission of Christ as community-creating: "Christ loved the Church and gave himself up for it, to consecrate it, cleaning it by water and word, so that he might present the Church to himself all glorious, with no stain or wrinkle or anything of the sort, but holy and without blemish" (Ep 5:27-28). Ignatius Loyola lived at a time when the Church appeared as anything but holy and without blemish. Yet, like Christ, he loved the Church, not in its invisible holiness which is an abstraction, but in its concreteness, as the bride of Christ. In particular, even beneath the blemishes of the Renaissance popes, he saw in faith the Vicar of Christ. Against the dictatorship of the milieu, he took the path of spiritual .freedom. In his "Rules for Thinking with the Church," included in the book of The Spiritual Exercises, he takes, point for point, the practices ridiculed by the Reformers, and asks that we praise them. At a time when private judgment was being extolled, he asked that we "lay aside all private judgment, keeping our minds prepared and ready to obey in t192 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 all things the true spouse of Christ our Lord, our holy mother, the hierarchical Church." In short, we can say that spiritual freedom is shown in every act that creates community, healing it where it is wounded, restoring it where it is floundering, raising consciousness to correct abuses which are hostile to genuine community. On the other hand, every act which divides and reduces community to factions, parties, group-interests, is an act of spiritual bondage. Am-Ought Finally, there is the polarity of the am-ought in our lives. It is the polarity of conscience, the sense of the ought, which lives in a tension with where ! actually am. Conscience is itself a mystery of the human spirit, which carries within itself the sense of its goal-orientation towards authenticity, and at the same time the awareness of where the person is in relationship to that goal. Conscience is not some "tiny voice." It is the imperative of the spirit to become what we should be. The ought is present in everyone. The content of the ought, the specifics, how we become what we ought to be, varies according to a person's forma-tion. This means that there is another "ought," namely, the need to bring the content of one's conscience into line with what genuinely fits authenticity. While there is the obligation to follow one's conscience, there is the corre-sponding obligation to check one's conscience, to see if it leads to spiritual freedom or to spiritual bondage. In Christ, his conscience is informed with a content which provides the sense of mission providing the master-vision and the master-commitment of his whole life. "Ought not the Messiah to suffer and thus to enter upon his glory?" (Lk 24:26). In the language of John's Gospel: "Look, there is the Lamb of God. It is he who takes away the sin of the world" (,In 1:29). Even when he trembles before the dreadful realization of the content of that ought in his agony in the garden, there is no attempt to substitute some other content. From start to finish, his life is marked by the ought of the Suffering Servant. This is again illustrated in the symbolic act of washing the disciples' feet at the last supper. The ought and the am, like the other polarities, can exist in a creative or destructive tension. In the first place, there is the deliberate going against one's conscience. Secondly, there is the refusal to examine the content of one's conscience, which can be aided and abetted unto error by rationalization. There is the tendency in all of us to reduce the content of conscience from what is genuinely human to what we like or feel or to what conforms to the milieu around us. There is the automatic need to legitimate what we choose to do which is the process of rationalization, to the point where one may be living a life that is a lie. On the other hand, there is spit:itual freedom where, in obedience to what is genuinely normative for human nature, we bring the disparate elements in Spiritual Freedom / 493 our life under obedience to what is true, real, good, beautiful. Conversely, every failure to obey conscience, particularly the conscience that has a sense of what is really, authentically human, is not only an act of spiritual bondage, but a progressive enslavement. "In very truth 1 tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave" (Jn 8:34). However, we should not equate the Christian ought with that which comes from ethics or moral philosophy. The Christian ought does not come from the reflection on what fits authentic humanity. Rather it comes from the implica-tions of what it means to be incorporate in Christ. The content of the Chris-tian conscience comes, therefore, from the implications of a whole new series of relationships, that our existence finds its norm now by being-with, being-in, being-for. All of the applications that Paul, for example, makes for Christian living come from the new existence that we have as related to the Father in a special way through Christ. It would be an act of spiritual bondage to live only according to the "natural law" when we have a new content to our conscience which is described in so many ways in the New Testament. Basically, it is putting on "that mind which is in Christ Jesus" (Ph 2:5). On the contrary, every act which shows forth what Paul calls a special kind of harvest is an act of spiritual freedom: "The harvest of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, fidelity, gentleness and self-control" (Ga 5:22). Conclusion I have attempted to locate the mystery of spiritual freedom in the context of the polarities which describe some of the many-faceted sides of human exis-tence: facticity-possibility, rationality-affectivity, hope-anxiety, individual-community, am-ought. 1 tried to show how spiritual freedom is realized in Christ (admittedly only touching the surface), and how, as incorporate in Christ, we to some degree share in his spiritual freedom. However, we have also seen that the "shadow" side of freedom, namely, spiritual bondage, is an ever present threat to our freedom, 1 would like to conclude by suggesting that it is in the Eucharist that we find both the meaning of spiritual freedom and the way that we once again, conscious of and confessing our spiritual bondage, re-incorporate ourselves into the act by which we were made spiritually free. In the obedience of Christ to the ought of his life we are saved. All gift is a manifestation of spiritual freedom. In Christ, in the supreme gift of himself to the Father for us, we find the supreme act of spiritual freedom: "This is my Body given for you. This is my Blood, the Blood of the new covenant poured out for you." We also pray, "May he make us an everlasting gift to you" (Third Eucha-ristic Prayer). Our spiritual freedom is measured by the degree to which we can enter into that gift of Christ to the Father and to others. By being taken up into that "procession" of Christ to the Father, our limitations and possibilities 494 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 undergo a change into those of Christ; we are in touch with the reality behind all appearances through faith and love; we live proclaiming that the hope to come is now present; we take upon ourselves Christ's own relativity to the Church and to the world; there is a new ought to our lives, to love as Christ has loved us. In conclusion, then, every act of spiritual freedom is in some way bringing back the world to the Father through Christ: "Such was his will and pleasure determined beforehand in Christ, to be put into effect when the time was ripe: namely, that the universe, all in heaven and on earth, might be brought into a unity in Christ" (Ep 1:9-10). The "Active-Contemplative' Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 426 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 On Spiritual Direction Jan Bots, S.J., and Piet Penning de Vries, S.J. Father Bots and de Vries are Dutch Jesuits. This article originally appeared in Geist und Leben in February, 1980, and represents a revision of a chapter from their book: Geestelijke leiding vandaag, Fen werkboek [Spiritual Direction Today: A Workbook], (Amsterdam: Patmos, 1978). As with other articles by the authors, this was translated by Sister Mary Theresilde, Assistant General of the Sister Servants of the Holy Spirit of Perpetual Adoration; Holy Trinity Convent; Helmtrudisstr. 23; 3490 Bad Driburg; West Germany. In all spiritual direction, the real spiritual director is the Holy Spirit. Hence the "spiritual" element in his direction is not opposed to what is material or bodily, but to what St. Paul calls "the flesh" (see Rm 8:7-17), to the sinful, self-encapsulating element in a human being. The word "spiritual" is derived from the New Testament word pneumatikos, meaning "determined by God's Spirit." Anyone who lives a spiritual life bases his whole existence on God's Spirit. The spiritual father, or pater pneumatikos of the Eastern Church, exercises an important but modest role: he himself does not lead but rather sees to it that his spiritual child lets himself be led by the Holy Spirit and grows in sensitivity to that Spirit's guidance. The Church Another reason why the spiritual director's role is a modest one is that it is totally subordinate to the mission of the Church itself as director and guide. The Church is the Spirit-bearer in this world; it is, then, the spiritual director, "Mother and Teacher" (Mater et Magistra, John XXIII). Its means are the liturgy, its Holy Scripture together with the traditions built thereon, and the teachings of the magisterium which assure that the truths handed on harmon-ize with its experience. Through these channels--often unnoticed--the faith-ful are given continual spiritual direction. Every session involving personal spiritual direction takes place within this 495 4~16 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 sphere of ecclesial activity. Accordingly, even the first encounter between a spiritual director and the person seeking direction does not take place between two total strangers. Actual practice proves this: the freedom with which peo-ple entrust their most private realms to a priest shows that these two persons were already related in the Church, even before they met personally. Faith creates a bond of trust between people, independent of feelings of personal confidentiality. Friendship and Spiritual Direction Therefore friendship is not a prerequisite for spiritual direction, though love is. Even where two people are not immediately related by friendship, there can be mutual esteem, trust, and union in prayer and love. Friendship on the other hand, rests on reciprocity, on mutuality. Friends like to be together, cultivate lengthy contacts, meet regularly, share conversation, do things together and have favorite times and places for exchanging experiences and views. One who makes friendship a condition for spiritual direction limits the effectiveness of the spiritual director to his circle of friends and excludes other Christians, and this without necessity. Friendship can surely help to overcome threshold anxiety and facilitate the first step into spiritual direction. This more comfortable beginning demands less self-conquest, but it can also become a hindrance. The ease itself of this friendly contact with the spiritual director can result in a loss of depth in the conversation, which in turn can tend to aimlessness instead of concentration on the essential. Too, personal friendship often increases the difficulty of speaking about things that the one seeking direction finds embarassing. On the part of the spiritual director, too, friendship can become proble-matic. As we have already said, it is essential for spiritual direction that, not the person, but the Holy Spirit be the actual center of the direction. This means that the relationship of friend to friend is subordinate to the relation-ship of both to Christ. Too close a union of friendship can be a hindrance in this regard. Hence, for example, pastoral work and spiritual direction attempt~ ed among one's relatives is often difficult. Spiritual direction given to friends and relatives demands a strong affective independence. All intimacy must open one to God and transcend the bond that unites the persons. The directee must feel so free regarding any tie of friendship that he can at any time reveal his interior to a priest-director in confession. As a matter of principle, then, friendship can be a help in spiritual direction, but it can also be a hindrance. Therefore we do well not to place any emphasis on it. A holy indifference should maintain one above the friendship. Objectivity and Spiritual Direction We may ask: even ifa relationship of personal friendship is not necessary, should not at least a common llfe-experience serve as the foundation.of spiri- On Spiritual Direction / 497 tual direction? Should not the spiritual director be married, if he intends to guide the married? Should he himself not have children, if he plans to direct parents? Even this is not necessary, for spiritual direction takes place on another level, it consists above all in the help a person is able to render because he himself is able to cope with his own experiences, whatever they may be. A good spiritual director, then, will not say: "This or that is the path for you. It's the same one I myself have trod. Just get behind and follow me.". Such a demand may be the right one for an organizer who is initiating people into a certain task or for a community leader who desires to lead his community in a certain direction. Or it may also be proper for a teacher who has to be a kind of model for his pupils. And, of course, on occasion a spiritual director's dealings with his directees may savor somewhat of this kind of action. In what concerns vital questions requiring decision and freedom, however, it is not the path and the experience of the director which is normative, but that of the directee. The spiritual director normally should not even advise toward anything of which he himself has experience, such as the priesthood or religious life. His own experience colors his outlook too much, and this could be prejudicial to the other's freedom. The spiritual diredtor has to seek his orientation elsewhere. His role does not consist in pointing out his own experiences and opinions. In fact, he should refrain from bringing personal experiences into the conversation and discussing them. It is the task of the director to bring the other into contact with his own experiences, to lead him to openness to the Spirit's impulses, to help the person form his own judgment and make his own decisions. It would, then, not be conducive to good spiritual direction to give counsel such as: "If I were you, I would do this or that." This could make the other dependent on the spiritual director, and hinder the true experiencing and finding of himself. A person should rather be led to self-motivation (intrin-sece) and to independence from motivation from without (extrinsece). Dependence and Spiritual Direction Spiritual direction can be falsified not only by giving definite counsel ("Do this or that"), but also by making a person dependent. This can be done, for example, by assuming a reassuring, generou.s, noble and optimistic manner of acting in a way that relieves the directee of doubt and uncertainty. Or one can let the other cry on one's shoulder responding to his tears with comfort and consolation. This is hardly fitting in spiritual direction, for the task of spiritual direction preventive measures. The privacy of confession and/or the secluded-hess of the confessional could be helpful here, for they contribute to a situ-ation in which the person has God and the Church more in mind than the can easily tend to nestle in his misery in order to continue receiving warm-heartedness and comfort. The spiritual director ought to see to it that no harmful counter- 498 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 transference takes place, for example, by his actually assuming the role of a father, a mother, or any other analogous role transferred to him by the direc-tee (usually unconsciously.) He should beware of playing father to, or mother-ing the directee. Therefore it is necessary to build into the situation of spiritual direction preventive measures. The privacy of confession and/or the se-cludedness of the confessional could be helpful here, for they contribute to a situation in which the person has God and the Church more in mind than the person of the priest. It is the penitent's perfect right to experience in the priest less the human being than the objective spiritual guidance he offers. Outward manifestations of love and affective attraction can, then, be inim-ical to spiritual direction. The spiritual director helps the directee, not by the witness of his own love, but much more by giving witness to God's love, out of love for the person, and b~. leading the person primarily to openness to God, not merely to openness to himself. Besides, by being over.y nice, one can give the impression that life is exceptionally sweet and ple~.sant. In this case the spiritual encounter would be unrealistic, and therefore ineffectual. It may be easy to show one's cordiality, but this can block the directee's way to the depths, to the heart of God. It can be painful for the spiritual director to silence his own heart in order to let the other discover the heart of God. But he can do it if he remains aware that he has something greater to give to the other than himself, namely, God; that he is supposed to give the other a stability that can be found only in God and not in a human being, a stability that is independent of momentary mood and relationships, including those of friendship with another person.~ ~This reserved, seemingly clinical manner is opposed by those who want to cling to a director in one way or another. Their disappointment with the conduct of the director is expressed in many and various veiled rationalizations. He is called unfeeling, hard, intolerant, inhuman, unrealistic, uncharitable and unsocial, lacking in pastoral intuition, too supernatural, too stiff, reflecting Christ too little, etc. The spiritual director with inadequate inner stability will let himself be easily upset by such accusations. The following advice of Freud could have a strengthening effect on him: I cannot advise my colleagues urgently enough to imitate during their psychoanalytical sessions the surgeon, who puts all his affections and even his human compassion aside and sets one single aim before his spiritual powers: to perform the operation as skillfully as possible. .This coldness of feeling required of the analyst is justified by its creating the most advantageous conditions for both parties--for the physician, the desirable protection of his own affective life; for the patient, the greatest measure of assistance possible today. An elderly surgeon had taken for his motto the words: Je le pansai. Dieu le guerit (I dress his wounds; God heals him). The analyst should be content with a similar attitude (Sigmund Freud. Collected Works. London, 1955, VIII, pp. 380 f.). In his faith, the spiritual director has at his disposal helps to psychic integration that a psychotherapist could envy. In addition, he has on his side the fact that an exclusive fixation on psychic recovery less often hinders the healing process in direction. Unlike the case of the psy-chotherapist, psychic recovery is not a "must," and that is an advantage. On Spiritual Direction / 499 Following Jesus By not placing himself and his stability in the foreground, the spiritual director gives the directee the opportunity to experience what is going on within himself. The director does this from the very beginning by having him confront Jesus Christ revealed in the gospels, in whom he will find the true orientation-point of his spiritual'journey. Here is his confidant, the one who, in the power of the Spirit, is discovered in his own inner self. Without this confrontation with Christ, conversation will remain on the intellectual, psychological or emotional level. What ultimately counts in a spiritual conversation is not ideas and ideals, nor mere feelings, but the expe-rience of following Jesus--what the person experiences in Jesus' presence, from Jesus and with Jesus. This is the decisive point. Many persons shrink back and break off the conversation when they sense that it is moving toward becoming deeply involved in following Christ. Yet the fundamental concern of the spiritual director must be never to let the conversation wander from this very decisive point. Questions can sometimes be helpful in this regard. For example, when someone brings up a certain problem, the director can ask, "Have you prayed over it?" or "How have you been able to master or integrate this question in prayer?" If it appears that the difficulty in question has not been prayed through, the spiritual director can recommend a Scripture passage to help introduce the directee into praying over the problem. Then the conversation can be interrupted for the present, and resumed later, after the person has prayed and, in that prayer, has found a spiritual experience. The Process of Spiritual Direction What we have just described can also be spread over a period of time. Here, too, one should beware of prescribing a path (extrinsece) instead of fostering an experience (intrinsece). A first conversation. The spiritual director simply listens sympathetically, so that the directee feels understood in his problem. The purely psychic emo-tions of the person, which on the surface can often be very vehement, ought to aid the director to see deeper and to understand the movements of good and evil in the other. Ignatius called this the "movement of spirits" and spoke of "consolation and desolation." The spiritual director has the task of endeavor-ing to sense how the directee, with all his positive and negative impulses, is taken up into the dynamic movement towards or away from God. Thus spiritual direction requires the ability to be both emotionally and psychologi-cally sensitive to the attitude of the other person as he or she stands before God. The directee's understanding "according to the flesh" has to be expanded and deepene.d into an understanding "according to the spirit" (2 Cot 5:16). When the spiritual director has--beneath the psychic utterances, as it were--made contact with the spiritual implications at work, and when he considers the human aspect of the person's life over against its Christian 500 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 possibilities, then he guides the conversation expressly out of the "fleshly" phase into the "spiritual" one. This happens: for example, by the director's recommending what Ignatius describes as those "spiritual exercises most in conformity with his needs" (Sp.Ex.17). The reflection after prayer. Only after the directee has considered his situation in prayer and meditated his way through it, using the pointers given by the spiritual director, is the conversation resumed. It corresponds to what Ignatius prescribes "after finishing the exercise" (Sp.Ex.77), and is a kind of stock-taking of what has gone on in prayer. It can be carried out by using questions designed to place all one's attention on one's attitude towards the Lord, such as Where was 1 when I was not with him? When was 1 with him? How do I feel towards him now after prayer?2 The expertise of the spiritual director consists in so placing his knowledge and experience of Jesus Christ at the service of his searching directee that the directee finds his way to Jesus, pours out his heart before him and works out any still unresolved experiences together with him. A second conversation has the purpose of talking over the difficulties that might have come up during reflection on the person's prayer. The first question mentioned above should have revealed what hindered the person in coming to a "spiritual" understanding and experience of his situation. The other two questions ought to show where the Spirit wants to break through to a new, liberating and redeeming view. A period of meditative prayer can now be repeated. The subject for pray-ers, for example, the gospel passage assigned, has already assumed a different aspect from that of the first meditation. One's own spiritual experience has deepened and cast new light on the text. The spiritual vision of the meditating person has been widened by this experience and by the conversation which has made him aware of it and clarified it. It is this alternation of prayer and conversation that leads the directee deeper and deeper into the question at hand. It ought to be continued until the person feels completely united to Christ. The spiritual director's conduct is similar to that required in the non-directive method of psychological therapy, but it is older and, above all, has a different motivation and purpose. Ignatius describes it as follows: ".in these spiritual exercises it is more fitting and much better in seeking the Divine will, that our Creator and Lord communicate himself to the devout soul, inflaming it with his love and praise, and disposing it to the way in which it can best serve him in the future. Thus, the one who gives the exercises should not 2See Father Bots' forthcoming ar!icl~. "Praying in Two Directions." in this review. On Spiritual Direction / 501 incline either to one side or the other, but standing in the middle like the balance of a scale, he should allow the Creator to work directly with the creature, and the creature with its Creator and Lord" (Sp.Ex. 15). Conclusion In conclusion, we present the following rules of thumb for the spiritual director. --Keep the relationship to the directee subordinate to your own relationship to Christ. --Let your conduct towards the other be such that he feels free with regard to you in every respect. A test of this is whether he could feel free to go to confession to you at any moment, if you are a priest. --Remain indifferent to any affection shown you. Neither sympathy nor antip-athy, but the other's orientation to God is decisive. --Pay at least as much attention to the manner in which the directee presents the problem, that is, to consolation and desolation, as to its content. --Pay attention not only to feelings and experiences in general, but to feelings for Him. --Keep every conversation as brief as possible. --On beginning, do not ask "sympathetic" questions, but rather let the other take full initiative to show in What areas he wants to share with you. --Maintain a maximum of distance, so that the other can remain as free as possible. --Do not proceed faster than the experience of the directee allows. --Constantly point out what the directee himself has already discovered by his own experience. --Avoid giving any advice from your own private experience on vital ques-tions which require the free decision of the directeeo --Give advice only on the way in which the other himself can discover God's will, and not on what God's will for him could possibly be. --Notice whether the directee--either consciously or unconsciously--ma-neuvers you into a certain role; take note of any gestures, words or attitudes that could indicate a harmful transference. --Notice what the other does not want to face, what he represses. --Normally keep silence; speak by exception and after mature reflection. --In repeating the experiences and feelings of the other, use the person's own words as much as possible, even though they be awkward. --Do not discuss, but do deal with the feelings that lie behind the thoughts expressed. --When the inner, spiritual experience has reached its deepest point, endeavor as soon as possible to channel it to prayer. --Hide your expertise and do not give reasons for your reactions; for you ought to direct the other's attention, not to yourself or to your reasons, but to Jesus and to his own experience. 502 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 --Do not try to keep peace and good relations at all costs. Even aggression can be beneficial, though one need not deliberately arouse it. --Do not attempt to give excuses for a situation which the directee describes as wrong. Rather remain with him in his darkness until he himself comes to light. --Emotions may be expressed during the conversation, but they should be worked through in prayer. Of course, pithy norms such as these are more beneficial if considered as suggestions, and not as rules to be followed slavishly. Novitiate, July 4 Recent pretender to Carmel's heights; eyes yet city-dazed, 1 watch the pyrotechnics in the plain below and wonder why the Beloved does not so oblige those who left such things as these for Him. When last have 1 a flash of color known, or sounds that take possession, strange islands or flocks of lambs that gambol through the rocky fastness? When will His fire work? In His own hour, my independence day. Terrence Moran, C.SS.R. Mt. St. Alphonsus Esopus, NY 12429 Psychology and Spirituality: Distinction Without Separation Stephen Rossetti Mr. Rossetti has a Master's degree in political science. After a period of teaching and research, he had studied spiritual theology for several years and is presently a graduate student of theology at the Catholic University (Washington) with a view to ordination. His present mailing address is 26 Reed Parkway; Marcellus. NY 13108. "1 think I'll go and meet her, "said Alice, for though the flowers were interesting enough, she felt that it would be far grander to have a talk with a real Queen. "You can't possibly do that, "' said the Rose, "'1 should advise you to walk the other way. '" This sounded like nonsense to Alice, so she said nothing, but set off at once towards the Red Queen. To her surprise, she lost sight of her in a moment, and found herself walking in at the front door again. A little provoked, she drew back, and, after looking everywhere for the Queen (whom she spied out at last, a long way off), she thought she wouid try the plan, this time, of walking in the opposite direction. It succeeded beautifully. She had not been walking a minute before she found herself face to face with the Red Queen, and full in sight of the hill she had so long been aiming at (Lewis Carroll: Through the Looking Glass). The Confusion of Psychology With Spirituality Recently a young religious on a retreat weekend was in a group session when one of the superiors (also the spiritual adviser) noticed the religious had his arms crossed. Perhaps recalling a popular psychology book about body language, the adviser said, "You've got your arms crossed. You must have a closed personality." In that hous'e, this was the ultimate criticism since the guest-lecturer's theme for the weekend was that the core of the Christian message could be boiled down to one thing: openness. While the comment was a spontaneous one without malicious intent, it 503 504 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 reflects a trend in modern spirituality--a trend which, if not recognized and checked, could condemn many spiritual lives to a great mediocrity, or eventu-ally lead to their total destruction (bearing in mind the spiritual axiom: the soul that is not advancing is retreating). This trend is a subtle confusion between what is proper to spirituality and what is proper to psychology, and the relationship between the two. In its worst case, spirituality has been totally reduced to psychology. More often, though, the proper balance and harmony between the two has been disrupted. This is a development the French philosopher, Jacques Maritain, feared. In his controversial work, The Peasant of the Garonne, he says: In spite of everything, it is very funny to imagine countless Christian families poring devoutly over copies, not of the Spiritual Combat. but of treatises on sexology: or to think of that Mexican monastery whose sturdy pioneering zeal prompted it to have the whole community psychoanalyzed, with the not unforseeable result of a number of happy marriages. It is also pretty amusing to picture to yourself superiors of seminaries or of religious houses, masters and mistresses of novices studiously and eagerly attending courses in dynamic psychology which initiate them in projection tests, Rorschach, and the pyschodrama of Moreno. In this way, they will acquire the science of human behav-ior, and will be able to tell souls who are or will be confided to their care "what to do," or, in embarrassing cases, send them to the psychiatrist, the man who really "knows". My only regret is that I am too old to look forward to being comforted by the young generations who are being prepared in this way to dedicate themselves to the Lord--fully flowering in their nature, poised, decomplexed, socially conditioned, spontaneously adapted to group reflexes, and, at last, happy to be alive3 Part of a Larger Trend: Theology Reduced to Anthropology There are many reasons for the tendency to confuse psychology with spirituality, the enumeration of which goes beyond the goals of this paper. But it should be recognized that this is part of a larger trend affecting the entire field of theology. Sociologist Peter Berger, in his book, Facing Up to Mod-ernity, points out the existence of this trend. He says the rise of a "secular theology" is a symptom of this trend and describes it as a denial, in various degrees and on different grounds, of the objective validity of the supernatural affirmation of the Christian tradition. Put differently, the movement gen-erally shows a shift from a transcendental to an immanent perspective, and from an objective to a subjective understanding of religion. Generally, traditional affirmations referring to otherworldly entities or events are "'translated" to refer to concerns of this world, and traditional affirmations about the nature of something "out there".are "translated" to become statements about the nature of man or his temporal situation.: Berger is thus noting the loss of the "transcendent" in our theology, with ~Jacques Maritain. The Peasant of the Garonne: An Old Layman Questions Himself About the Present Time. trans. Michael Cuddihy and Elizabeth Hughes (Toronto: Macmillan Co. 1968). pp. 179-180. ~Peter L. Berger. Facing Up to Modernity (New York: Basic Books Inc. 1977). p. 164. Psychology and Spirituality / 505 such results as the reduction of divine inspirations to subconscious drives, the kingdom of God being identified with material creation, and the confusion between a psychological peak experience and a true experience of the divine. Prayer then becomes a secondary occupation designed to prepare us for our worldly ministry or, as the guest lecturer of the religious' retreat weekend pronounced, "all liturgy, prayer and worship" must be oriented to our aposto-late of serving the poor. While serving the poor is an important vocation, one that is solidly based on scripture, the Catholic charism of an appreciation of the efficacy of prayer in its own right can be lost, and the subordination of the spiritual to the material can result. We then become not only people "in the world" but, unfortunately, people "of the world." Professor of psychology, Paul Vitz, recognizes the same trend that sociol-ogist Peter Berger does. Vitz claims that this trend today results in a substitu-tion of psychology for religion and has given rise to a form of psychology which he calls "selfism." In his work, Psychology as Religion: The Cult of Self- Worship, Vitz says: .it will be argued that psychology has become a religion, in particular, a form of secular humanism based on worship of the self. It is no doubt becoming clear that self-theory is a widely popular, secular, and humanistic ideology or "religion." not a branch of science . Self-psychology commonly functions as a religion. It is appropriate to use Fromm's definition of religion: "Any system of thought and action shared by a group which gives the individual a frame of orientation and an object of devotion."3 Summing up the whole movement in this area of theology, Berger says that "our movement thus replicates to an amazing degree, in form if not in content, Feuerbach's famous program of reducing theology to anthropology.TM The Goal of Modern Psychology vs. The Goal of Christianity When theology is reduced to anthropology, spirituality likewise is reduced to the secular sciences, notably psychology, and perhaps sociology. We might first point out the differences between the goals that the two disciplines hold out for humankind. In Christianity, the goal is communion with God. The Second Vatican Council affirmed this traditional teaching and cited it as the cause of the dignity of each person. Thus, any attempt to exalt the dignity of mankind without basing itself on this call to communion with God would be incomplete at best, if not counterproductive. In Gaudium et Spes we read the words of the Council Fathers: An outstanding cause of human dignity lies in man's call to communion with God. From the very circumstance of his origin, man is already invited to converse with God. For 3Paul C. Vitz, Psychology as Religion: The Cult of Self- Worship (Grand Rapids, Mich.: William B. Eerdmans Pub. Co., 1977), pp. 9,37. '~Berger. Modernity, p. 168. 51~ [ Revi'ew for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 man would not exist were he not created by God's love and constantly preserved by it. And he cannot live fully according to truth unless he freely acknowledges that love and devotes himself to his Creator.~ In the language of the Christian tradition, this dignity has been expressed several ways: by St. Augustine's "God became man so that men might become God," or, "what God is by nature we become by grace," or "the deification of man." This traditional language is being replaced by a new description of the beatific vision: the state of being "fully human." The widespread appeal of this new phrase is mostly a reaction against the implication that in communion with God we no longer are human or perhaps become some sort of angelic being. That implication is certainly not true and it is a distortion of the proper understanding of our destiny. Nevertheless, there are limitations to the use of this new phrase: "fully human," and the phrase must be properly understood. Ontologically speak-ing, it is the best phrase to use if one defines the human as having an innate capacity for the divine, as St. Thomas did, or, if one defines human as having an obediential potency for the infinite God, as Karl Rahner does. Thus, ontologically speaking, when the person is in communion with God, she has realized her full potential and thus is "fully human." However, it is not an acceptable term when one speaks of the conscious-ness, the experiential dimension, of the person in the beatific state. Judging by the texts of the great mystics, in the beatific state one has a real perception of union with God when there is a oneness with the infinite. From St. John of the Cross' Living Flame of Love: Accordingly, the intellect of this soul is God's intellect; its will is God's will: its memory is the memory of God: and its delight is God's delight: and although the substance of this soul is not the substance of God, since it cannot undergo a substantial conversion into him, it has become God through participation in God. being united to and absorbed in him, as it is in this state.n And, in his Spiritual Canticle, John says even more boldly that besides teaching her to love purely, freely, and disinterestedly as he loves her, God makes her love him with the very strength with which he loves her.7 The ability of the human to love the divine with the same infinite love has been explained as the action of the Holy Spirit which, in the order of love, accomplishes what is not possible on the ontologic or essential order. To ~Walter M. Abbott, gen. ed., The Documents of Vatican If(Chicago: Follett Pub. Co., 1966), pp. 215-216. ~'Kieran Kavanaugh and Otilio Rodriguez, trans., The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross (Wash. D.C.: ICS Publications, 1979), p. 608. 71bid., p. 554. Psychology and Spirituality / 507 describe this state of complete communion with God as the state of being "fully human" thus lacks the descriptive power necessary to do justice to the state. In addition, the phrase, "fully human," carries with it an implication, a connotation, of autonomy that is not proper to the idea of love or commu-nion. Love or communion means relatedness--a total giving of self. The recognition of this subtle tendency in the use of the term "fully human" is important and brings to mind a similar difficulty in philosophy. Descartes' "1 think, therefore I am" likewise carries a connotation of autonomy of existence in the phrase, "I am." It is proper, rather, to say "I am caused to be." While the distinction may seem insignificant, just as the tendency in the" phrase "fully human" seems to be minor, it is not. It is proper only to God to say, "1 am," since he alone is non-contingent being. We are the ones who are contingent. Just as religion starts with the distinction between God and his creation, so too does it end with the distinction between human and divine which become, at the same time, fully one. Any term which seeks to describe the beatific state must clearly, and in proper balance, represent both the distinction and the union. However, if this lack of descriptive power in the term "fully human" were the only problem, there would not be a major difficulty in distinguishing between the goal of psychology and the goal of Christianity. But it is the next step after this where the heart of the problem lies. Once such phrases leave the hands of the professional theologians, they are subject to the mentality of the times. Unfortunately, the nuance that "being fully human" means precisely a capacity for the divine, for full union with God, is not always evident. With the massive popularity of psychology in our culture--and thus in the Church --the phrase "fully human" has often been equated, subconsciously or con-sciously, with the state merely of total self-realization or self-fulfillment, how-ever this be couched in such psychological phrases. This psychological conception of the goal-of-the-person, especially in "selfism" (Vitz' term), tends to be a state of complete emotional balance, a state of total se/f-possession, or a contentment with self. If modern religious were to try to define what the state of perfection is, many would come up with some similar image. This image, though, can't carry the full sense of the personal goal by Christianity: communion with God. What is lacking is pre-cisely what Berger says our modern theology is lacking: a full sense of the transcendent. Biblical and Mystical Images of the Christian Goal One of the best images we have of the personal goal offered in Christianity is found in the New Testament: "While he was praying, his face changed in appearance and his clothes became dazzlingly white" (Lk 9:29; see Mk 9:2-3). It is no coincidence, then, that the final state of union with God possible on earth, that of relative perfection, has traditionally been called "transforming 51~1~ / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 union," the union in which the person is utterly transformed by the Holy Spirit. The radiance of such holiness is not just a literary device, but expresses the reality of the heights of holiness to which all persons are called. It is a oneness with the infinite Holy which, of its very nature, radiates light, love and truth. Such an idea of holiness was not unknown to the Old Testament authors: As Moses came down from Mouht Sinai with the two tablets of the commandments in his hands, he did not know that the skin of his face had become radiant while he conversed with the Lord. When Aaron, then, and the other Israelites saw M~ses and noticed how radiant the skin of his face had become, they were afraid to come near him. (Ex 34:29-30). Whenever Moses entered the presence of the Lord to converse with him, he removed the veil until he came out again. On coming out, he would tell the Israelites all that had been commanded. Then the Israelites would see that the skin of Moses' face was radiant; so he would again put the veil over his face until he went in to converse with the Lord (Ex 34:34-35). A "radiance" of holiness is not uncommonly mentioned in mystical theol-ogy. In this science, it is called an "aureole." Thus Poulain speaks of it as fact: In the case of ecstatics we meet occasionally with the following phenomena which concern the body: I'. The body rises up into the air. This is what is termed levitation. 2. Or it is enveloped in a luminous aureole. 3. Or it emits a fragrance. These phenomena are not a necessary effect of the mystic union itself, like those that we have just described above. They are superadded to it. When God produces these excep-tional phenomena, it is usually with the object of giving credit to one of his servants whom he has charged with some important mission.8 While theologians might debate the historicity of such biblical citations or the authenticity of an aureole, the central importance of these images is that they dramatically point out the difference between a psychological content-ment and a radical transformation by the Holy Spirit. These are two distinct goals. It is of the greatest importance to seek the proper goal because, in scriptural terms: The idols of the nations are silver and gold, the handiwork of men. They have mouths but speak not: they have eyes but see not; They have ears but hear not, nor is there breath in their mouths. Their makers shall be like them, everyone that trusts in them (Ps 135:15-18). In a very real way, we become what we seek to become. We are trans-gA. Poulain, The Graces of Interior Prayer: .4 Treatise on Mystical Theology. trans. Leonora L. Yorke Smith (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1950), p. 170. Psychology and Spirituality / 509 formed into what we love, since this is the very nature of love itself: love unites and transforms us into what we love. Thus, if we seek, as our final end, a goal of se/f-contentment, we might just end up with only that. In fact, to achieve a true, deep psychological peace, one that is not transi-tory or superficial, actually requires a full communion with God. Being fully human is a result of this transformation by grace. As St. Teresa of Avila put it so well in a poem that she wrote and kept in her breviary, "Who God posses-seth, in nothing is wanting; alone God sufficeth." But, in the same breath, we must also add that if one seeks just apsycho-logical peace, one might find that it is always one step out of reach. "Take heed, therefore, how you hear: to the man who has, more will be given; and he who has not, will lose even the little he thinks he has" (Lk 8:i8). The Means to Achieve These Goals Are Different As has been shown, the goal of a psychologist is usually different from the goal of a spiritual director. Likewise, the means to achieve their goals also tend to be different. The modern person often speaks of his emotional and spiritual needs, and calculates ways to fulfill those needs. Commenting on Carl Rogers' encounter group psychology, Vitz refers to a work by Thomas Oden: Oden's conclusion that the encounter group is a demythologized, secularized Judeo- Christian theology is consistent with the case we have presented here. He goes on to develop a theological interpretation of encounter group ideology which is important and generally convincing. He argues that the underlying basic questions of encounter theol-ogy (for our purposes, read "selfist" theology) are: I What are the limits of my being that frustrate my self-actualization? III How can ! actualize these possibilities in order to become more fulfilled.~ II What possibilities are open for deliverance from my predicament? As a result of this secular approach, one's concern turns toward one's self-growth and development, often under the guise of seeking God's will, and with the best of intentions. While it is certainly important to take into account one's needs when discerning God's will, when this consideration becomes too much at the center of our thoughts, there will exist an imbalance in our discernment process. Some have even argued that all the person has to do in discerning God's will is recognize his own needs! This statement itself reflects a growing lack of the transcendent in our lives. Such imbalance is decidedly 9Vitz. Psychology as Religion, p. 75. 510 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 un-Christian. Yet it can and does have a serious effect on our spirituality. Perhaps this seems like a small error, but it is not. Augustine said, I/irtus est ordo amoris (virtue is love ordered). When our love becomes disordered, it is, by definition, sin. Vitz outlines the values resulting from such an imbalance: .it is clear that the concepts and values of selfism are not conducive to the formation and maintenance of permanent personal relationships or to values like duty, patience, and self-sacrifice, which maintain commitment. There is every reason to believe that the spread of the selfist philosophy in society has contributed greatly to destruction of families. All this is done in the name of growth, autonomy, and "continuing the flux.''~0 A case in point: a young married couple was having marital difficulties. The wife started to see a psychologist on a regular basis. She uncovered the fact that, due to her childhood, she felt a strong need for affection and emo-tional affirmation which she did not feel she was getting from her husband. The result is predictable: divorce. She, with a small child, is now trying to make a meager living while looking for a man in his 30's who is very affection-ate and loving, and will give her what she needs. While there need be no doubt that the analysis of her childhood problems was correct, this young lady is now in a worse situation than before. It is also very unlikely that a tende~', affectionate man in his 30"s will want to nurse an "emotionally starved" woman. At any rate, such a marriage would begin with an unbalanced relationship. A woman who goes into a marriage with the idea of fulfilling her own needs as her primary motive is unlikely to be able to develop a deep, loving relationship. Love, by its very nature, gives. This woman was following the means that are designed to achieve the selfist goal of emotional contentment. She had a need; she did not believe her husband was capable of meeting that need; therefore, she divorced him to find someone else who could meet her need--a scenario that is becoming a very common one in this country. But the means offered by the Gospel are very different. In fact, the Gospel offers exactly the opposite approach. Its means are summed up: "Whoever would preserve his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel's will preserve it" (Mk 8;35). This only makes sense since, as was stated above, the true nature of love is to give totally of oneself. The Second Vatican Council brought out this theme in Gaudium et Spes: Indeed, the Lord Jesus, when he prayed to the Father, "that all may be one.as we are one" (Jn 17:21-22), opened up vistas closed to human reason. For he implied a certain likeness between the union of the divine Persons and the union of God's sons in truth and charity. This likeness reveals that man, who is the only creature on earth which God wills for itself, cannot fully find himself except through a sincere gift of himself.~ ~Olbid., p. 83. ~Abbott. Vatican II, p. 223. Psychology and Spirituality / 511 Pelagianism and Self-Actualization There is a certain likeness between our modern situation and the anti- Pelagian campaign in the Church from 412 to 420 A.D. Pelagius, influenced by stoicism and the Roman concept of virtue, agrued (according to Augustine) that man was able to live a good life without the. grace of God, at least after an initial remission of sins and the infusion of grace so that one would be able to recognize the good. Augustine strongly disagreed and argued steadfastly for the need of grace throughout our lives to turn our wills to the good and empower us to attain that good. Pelagius, on the other hand, believed that our nature is grace. And, since nature is grace, there is no need for a continuing assistance from God. Taken to its extreme, this position would state that God has therefore contributed his part by creation and redemption, and now, in modern times, it is up to us to transform ourselves and the world by our labor. While this idea is attractive, and has a good bit of truth to it, it has a serious flaw: it lacks a full appreciation of the transcendent, of the relationship between God and his creation, which he continues to hold in existence at every moment. There must be a distinction between nature and grace, while, at the same time, we must recognize their profound interrelatedness--just as there must be a distinction between the human psyche and the human spirit, while we recog-nize their unity in the person. Without some distinction between grace and nature, there is no room for any true spirituality. And it is precisely the theological concept of grace that is usually the means of expressing one's dynamic relationship with God, and thus with his creation. Maritain insists on such a clarity of conceptualization: Between faith and reason, as between grace and nature, there is an essential distinction; and one sometimes tends to lose sight of it . But between faith and reason, as between grace and nature, there is no separation. One tends sometimes to overlook that, too. Whatever the dullness of our ancestors [failing to integrate the concepts] and of a good many of us [failing to distinguish the concepts], things are that way, and so is life: there is distinction without separation.~2 Augustine had added the fear that if our idea of grace collapsed into that of nature, this misconception would eventually lead to a feeling of self-sufficiency, just as it did for the Roman stoics: one achieves one's salvation on the basis of self-merit. The "Doctor of Grace" says: There is the added danger that when a man, miserable as he is, is leading a good life and doing good, or rather, when he imagines he is doing so, he will dare to glory in himself and not in the Lord, and put his hope for a good life in himself.~3 ~2Maritain. Peasant of the Garonne, pp. 166-167. 512 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 The Council Fathers recognized a similar danger in today's culture with respect to the secular sciences (thus including psychology). Gaudium et Spes points out: No doubt today's progress in science and technology can foster a certain exclusive emphasis on observable data, and an agnosticism about everything else. For the methods of investigation which these sciences use can be wrongly considered as the supreme rule for discovering the whole truth. By virtue of their methods, however, these sciences cannot penetrate to the intimate meaning of things. Yet the danger exists that man, confiding too much in modern discoveries, may even think that he is sufficient unto himself and no longer seek any higher realities,t4 To lose these "higher realities" is to lose the transcendent. To think oneself self-sufficient is the opposite of having faith. Faith implies a complete depen-dence upon God, which is nonetheless liberating. To glory in oneself, to be self-sufficient in this sense, is to set mankind in the place of God. In Old Testament terms, this is idolatry. On the other hand, Virtus est ordo amoris. Like Pelagianism, if men implicitly or explicitly replace spirituality with psychology, they will, as Augustine says, "imagine that they are doing good" but may lose even the little they think they have. Professor Vitz also sees parallels between Pelagianism and the use of modern psychology: The present form of selfism also contains strong Pelagian strands. But a strong element in his theology might, under the traditional and rather extreme interpretation of it, be viewed as akin Io humanist selfism. So it has been accepted by Fromm, who cites Pelagius as an ally and representative of what he calls "humanistic" religion, in contrast to the "'authoritarian" religion typified by Augustine . Like all popular heresy, selfism has some positive and appealing properties. That you should look out for yourself is nice (and useful) to hear; that you should love and care for others is a familiar and great moral position. What is excluded is the spiritual life of prayer, meditation, and worship--the essential vertical dimension of Christianity, the relation to God. Selfism is an example of a horizontal heresy, with its emphasis only on the present, and on self-centered ethics. At its very best (which is not often), it is Christianity without the first commandment.~S 1 would add to Vitz' statement that some of the better "secular theologies" do see a benefit of prayer, meditation and worship, but only ifwefeela need; only if it does something for us. This phenomenon, praying only if we feel a need for ourselves, is not new--just perhaps more widespread today, and now believed to be a good spirituality. The Mystical Doctor, St. John of the Cross, denounced such attitudes in his own day: Ah, my Lord and my God! How many go to you looking for their own consolation and ~3Augustine, Grace and Free Will in The Fathers of the Church. trans. Robert P. Russell (Wash. D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1968), vol. 59, p. 257. ~4Abbott, Vatican IL p. 263 [emphasis added]. ~sVitz, Psychology as Religion. pp. 94-95. Psychology and Spirituality / 513 gratification and desiring that you grant them favors and gifts, but those wanting to give you pleasure and something at a cost to themselves, setting aside their own interests, are few.~ While it is true that God desires only what is good for us, to pray primarily to satisfy one's owns needs is a self-centered approach. It is questionable whether such could be considered true prayer at all. One's own internal dispo-sitions and desires, in this case, are everything. Christianity and Its "Marvelous Reflux" As Professor Vitz pointed out, there is a lack of full understanding of the new Gospel message, especially of the first commandment. In the words of the New Testament, Jesus said to him: You shall love the Lord your God with your whole heart, with your whole soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments the whole law is based, and the prophets as well (Mt 22:37-40). It has always been difficult to reconcile these two commandments in one's own life--to love God with everything one possesses and yet to love one's neighbor as oneself. There seems to be an even greater confusion today in the wake of Vatican II. Many have charged forward with great enthusiasm into the world (including psychology). Our traditional spirituality has been charged by such persons with "verticalism," a rejection of the world that in its turn leads to a denigration of the individual person. However, it is time that we turn again to that other citation from the same council: "an outstanding cause of human dignity lies in man's call to communion with God." This final vocation of humankind must lie at the center of our dignity. It is, of course, true that "if anyone says, 'My love is fixed on God,' yet hates his brother, he is a liar" (I .In 4:20). It is also true that mankind must labor to achieve its salvation in the world. Thus, in the commentary accom-panying the text of Abbott's edition of Gaudium et Spes, the author notes: For the Christian, this constitution probably contains no bolder invitation to theological reflection than this brief allusion to the light divine revelation sheds on the meaning of man's vocation to find human and personal fulfillment in and through society.~7 ~'John Sullivan, ed., Spiritual Direction: Carmelite Studies #1 (Wash. D.C.: ICS Publications, 1980). p. 30. ~TAbbott, Vatican IL p. 223. 514 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 But it is also true that the Christian must keep his eyes on "a better, heavenly home" (Heb 11:16) and "run so as to win" (1 Co 9:24). Perhaps a more central reason for the confusion over the interpretation and execution of the two great commandments to love God and to love neighbor is that, like the failure to distinguish between nature and grace, there is often a failure to make the distinction between our neighbor and God in terms of the actions of our Christian lives. Without this distinction one easily falls into a secular humanism and such ideas as prayer and liturgy quickly become relegated to a secondary position. It is then that we lose sight of our goal, and our "Christian" actions toward our brothers and sisters become no longer Christian. Just as important, however, as it is to distinguish between God and our neighbor, it is also important to integrate these two great commandments in our lives. Vitz implies, as do many modern writers on spirituality, that there is a de facto separati.on between our "vertical" spirituality and our "horizontal" spirituality, that is, in our relationship with God and with our neighbor. They imply that the idea is a balance between the two dimensions. At first sight, this seems proper--to balance the two. But, on deeper examination, we find that this is not the way to integrate these two commandments. The reason precisely is that God is the infinite holy, the creator, the one on whom we depend for everything. Humankind is a creature, a subordinate being. To put humans on a par with God is an idolatry of man. And to "balance" our love is to put humans on a par with God. How then do we properly integrate the first commandment, love God, with the second commandment, love neighbor? Let us look at the works of three great people: a mystic, a philosopher, and a poet. The mystic is St. Catherine of Siena, named a Doctor of the Church yet a woman without any formal schooling. In a recent colloquium, Sr. Giuliana Cavallini, Director of the National Center of Catherinian Studies in Rome, spoke of how St. Cathe-rine integrated her relationship with God and neighbor: The fundamental revelation of that truth was one of the first teachings that our Lord gave to Catherine. He spoke to her one day and said, "Do you know who I am and who you are? You are the one who is not, and I am the one who is." So Catherine was instructed in that fundamental truth that God is the One who is, and that she. that we, are those who are not. Not that we do not exist, but that we cannot account for our existence, we do not find an explanation for our life, for our existence, in ourselves. The explanation must be sought elsewhere. It must be sought in God who is the One who is and who gives being to all created creatures. This is the foundation of all the spirituality of St. Catherine.~ This very basic perception is, interestingly enough, the very rock upon ~sSr. Giuliana Cavallini, O.P., "The Spirituality of Catherine," St. Catherine of Siena Collo-quium (Wash. D.C.: Dominican House of Studies, 1981), cassette tape side I. Psychology and Spirituality / 515 which the mystic's spiritual life was built. It seems rather negative, perhaps, appearing to lead to a denigration of the person. However, we find that this rock is absolutely necessary for the next truth that God revealed to this remarkable woman: Another aspect [of Catherine's spirituality] which is very beautiful is the great respect she has for God's work--for the human creature which is so beautiful and which is so worthy of being respected because it bears the image of God.~9 The second truth, the beauty of the human creature, is not possible with-out the first truth, God is the one who is, and we are the ones who are not. This certainly takes us back to the statement of Vatican I1, that the outstand-ing reason for our dignity is our call to communion with God. As Catherine points out, we are made in the image of God and are therefore beautiful. It is because we are God's image that this ultimate communion with God is possible. Sister Cavallini points out the necessity for us to realize this "double knowledge" of St. Catherine: If man only knew his nothingness, he would be led to despair. If he only had beautiful thoughts about God. perhaps he would take pride in his beautiful thoughts and go away on the other side. So the two have to go together?° But Catherine doesn't seem to explicitly offer us a way to integrate this "double knowledge." How do we love God and his creatures at the same time? Are we left with a balancing act between the two commandments? Catherine only offers us the image of a well: "the well where you have to go deep to find, at the very bottom, this double knowledge . ,,2~ As this great mystic implies, this knowledge is at the very core of the truth and, like most mystics, does not offer us a way to understand this truth with our intellects. She rather suggests that we too should go "very deep" to find this same knowledge. But the philosopher-theologian takes up where the mystic leaves off, trying to explain the penetrating insights of the deepest mysteries of our faith. Mari-tain, a man well-versed in mystical theology, often attempts such a task. Explaining St. Paul's statement, "For his sake 1 have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as a dung hill, in order that l may gain Christ" (Ph 3:8-10), Maritain says: And by a marvelous reflux, the more he despises creatures as rivals of God. as objects of a possible option against God, the more he cherishes them in and for him whom he loves, as loved by him and made truly good and worthy of being loved by the love which creates and infuses goodness in all things. For to love a being in God and for God is not to treat it simply as a means or mere occasion to love God, which would amount to ~91bid., side 2. 2Olbid., side I. ~ Ibid. 516 ] Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 dispensing oneself from loving it.: it is to love this being and consider it as an end, to desire its good because it deserves to be loved in itself and for itself, this very merit and dignity flowing from the sovereign Love and sovereign Lovableness of God. They are thus founded in God and, at the same time, placed beyond all quarrels and vicissitudes.22 This is the "marvelous reflux" of Christianity. To give oneself totally to God, to love him above all other things, is to recognize and thus serve other men in love. This love does not treat others as means, but rather as ends-- because God has made them worthy of such--though it is a love well-ordered. It is he who is the one who is; and we, as St. Catherine says, "are the ones who are not"; we must, like St. Paul, "suffer the loss of all things, and count them as a dung hill," so that we can truly know the beauty of man. Virtus est ordo amoris. This attitude is especially important for those in religious life, as was pointed out by the Council Fathers in their decree Perfectae Caritatis: Those who profess the evangelical counsels love and seek before all else that God who took the initiative in loving us (see I Jn 4:10); in every circumstance they aim to develop a life hidden with Christ in God (see Col 3:3). Such dedication gives rise and urgency to the love of one's neighbor for the world's salvation and the upbuilding of the Church. From this love the very practice of the evangelical counsels takes life and direction.23 This same intuition, it seems to me, was grasped by T.S. Eliot. In "Burnt Norton," one of the Four Quartets, we read: The inner freedom from the practical desire, The release from action and suffering, release from the inner And the outer compulsion, yet surrounded By a grace of sense, a white light still and moving, Erhebung without motion, concentration Without elimination, both a new world And the old made explicit, understood In the completion of its partial ecstasy. The resolution of its partial horror?4 This is the "double knowledge" of St. Catherine, the "marvelous reflux" of Jacques Maritain, Eliot's "concentration without elimination." It is such a concentration on what he earlier calls the "still point," the center of all that is, i.e., the Infinite Ground of Being that does not eliminate. Rather, things are "made explicit," "understood," and there is a "resolution" of the "new world and the old." It might be objected that this approach, to love God totally and thus love all creation in him, is fine on a theoretical level, but on a practical level one must devote a certain amount of time to prayer with God and the rest of the 22Maritain, Peasant of the Garonne. p. 58. ~3Abbott, Vatican IL pp. 470-471. ~4T.S. Eliot. The Four Quartets (USA: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich Inc., 1971), p. 16. Psychology and Spirituality / 51"/ time to "building up the Body of Christ in the world." While it is true that one must set apart dedicated times of prayer in quiet, the perception that there are times of work and times of prayer is to perpetuate the old error of splitting contemplation and action, or splitting prayer and work. Concerning this rela-tionship in Catherine's life we read: The balance of contemplation and action in the last twelve years of Catherine's life was not merely a relationship of complementarity. It was precisely what she experienced in contemplation that impelled her into action. And all that she touched or was touched by in her activity was present in her prayer. Indeed. in her later years she was.seldom physically alone when she prayed, except in her room at night. And her contemplation. on the other hand. was so present in her active life that she prayed and even burst into ecstasy within the text of many of her letters.2~ Like Catherine, a person living a full spiritual life will move at all times in concert with the divine love and will: the rhythm of quiet prayer, liturgical prayer and one's apostolate are all, and at the same time, both prayer and work. One's prayer, by the efficacy of God and the union of all in the Mystical Body, works to build up the Body of Christ. And one's work, done in har-mony with divine love, itself is a prayer. Certainly, Catherine was an unusual woman and the heights of love she reached must be a goal for us. It is also true that in the beginnings of a real spiritual life, we perhaps know scarcely little of a direct'love for God. This total self-giving to God is the goal. Yet we must be ever mindful of the Vatican Council's challenge to all people: Thus it is evident to everyone that all the faithful of Christ of whatever rank or status are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the perfection of charity. By this holiness a more human way of life is promoted even in this earthly society?~' And we must not substitute other goals for this end. If instead we seek for a psychological contentment, it can lead to "selfism" and perhaps the loss of everything. In a like manner, if we seek to balance the "vertical" and the "horizontal," that is, to balance a love for God and a love for neighbor, it might lead to an incomplete grasping of the Gospel message. This necessary goal of a total love for God, and, on a marvelous reflux, his creation, is especially important for those who have consecrated their lives explicitly to God. This explicit seeking after perfect charity and holiness, which the Council Fathers state all are called to, is nothing other than a total second conversion. The importance of this second conversion is a common theme in spiritual texts and a consistent theme in the lives of the saints. For those dedicated to God, it is of the utmost importance since it is an implicit part of their vocation. :~Catherine of Siena. Catherine of Siena: The Dialogues. trans. Suzanne Noffke. (New York: Paulist Press. 1980). p. 8. ~"Abbott. Vatican IL p. 67. 5111 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 Two conversions ordinarily occur in the majority of the saints and religious who become perfect; one, by which they devote themselves to the service of God; the other, by which they give themselves entirely to perfection . The reason why some reach perfection only very late or not at all is because they follow only nature and human sense in practically everything. They pay little or no heed to the Holy Ghost, whose appropriate work is to enlighten, to direct, to warm . The Holy Ghost waits some time for them to enter into their interior and, seeing there the operations of grace and those of nature, to be disposed to follow his direction: but if they misuse the time and favor which he offers them, he finally abandons them to themselves and leaves them to their interior darkness and ignorance, which they pre-ferred and in which they live thereafter amid great dangers for their salvation . The salvation oi" a religious is inseparably linked to his perfection, so that if he abandons care for his spiritual advancement, he gradually approaches ruin and loss. If he does not come to this pass, it is because God, wishing to save him, mercifully comes to his assistance before his fall. All the masters of the spiritual life agree on this maxim: He who does not advance, falls back.27 St. Paul likewise points out the importance of both recognizng the proper goal and running towards it, especially for those whom he calls the "spiritually mature": ! do not think of myself as having reached the finish line. I give no thought to what lies behind but push on to what is ahead. My entire attention is on the finish line as I run toward the prize to which God calls me--life on high in Christ Jesus. All of us who are spiritually mature must have this attitude. If you see it another way, God will clarify the difficulty for you (Ph 3:13-15). It is only with such an attitude that we are able to be "in the world" but not "of the world." If we perhaps had lost the first part of this idea in pre-Vatican 11 days (i.e., forgot we were in the world), we may tending to lose the second part in present times (i.e., forget we are not of the world but seek a better home). However, both poles in the tension must be maintained: "in the world" but not "of the world." It is only in this tension that we are able to bear witness to the light! Spirituality and Psychology Should Exist in Harmony Admitting that the goals of modern psychology and spirituality are often different, and that the means to achieve those goals are likewise different, it should also be recognized that this difference need not be antagonistic. Com-menting on the ideal role of the secular sciences in this service of God, the Council Fathers write: Therefore, if methodical investigation within every branch of learning is carried out in a genuinely scientific manner and in accord with moral norms, it never truly conflicts with faith. For earthly matters and the concerns of faith derive from the same God. Indeed, 27R. Garrigou-Lagrange, The Three Ages of the Interior Life: Prelude of Eternal Life. trans. M. Timothea Doyle (St. Louis: Herder Book Co., 1955). Vol. II, pp. 23, 25-26. Psychology and Spirituality whoever labors to penetrate the secrets of reality with a humble and steady mind, is, even unawares, being led by the hand of God, who holds all things in existence, and gives them their identity.28 However, Charles Tart, transpersonal psychologist, points out that West-ern Psychology implicitly rejects the notion of a god or of a universe that was created for a reason. In his article "Some Assumptions of Orthodox, Western Psychology," he says: Members of Western scientific culture in general, as well as psychologists specifically, basically assume that the universe in which they live has no reason for its existence. Because this is a somewhat depressing idea, we seldom give any thought to it. This assumption and other assumptions about the nature of the universe as a whole are incredibly audacious assumptions.?9 This "detachment" from spiritual matters when conducting the secular sciences is a widespread phenomenon in the world today, as Tart points out, and it is usually adopted in the name of objectivity or for the sake of not imposing one's own values on another. But the absence of true values does not result in objectivity nor freedom. Rather, the world and each person them-selves become unintelligible. And, in the field of psychology, it is especially dangerous since psychic health is impossible unless one is able to answer such basic, universal questions as, "Who am ,1? . Why do 1 exist? . What will happen after death?" Once again, the words of the Council Fathers ring true: But if the expression, the independence of temporal affairs, is taken to mean that created things do not depend on God, and that man can use them without any reference to their Creator, anyone who acknowledges God will see how false such a meaning is. For without the Creator the creature would disappear. For their part. however, all believers of whatever religion have always heard his revealing voice in the discourse of creatures. But when God is forgotten the creature itself grows unintelligible.30 Thus, psychology in one of its worst forms, "selfism," is not only insuffi-cient when it does not recognize the Beginning and End of all creation, it is also, in the words of Paul Vitz, "bad psychology": From the perspective of "depth" psychologists and others who work with the seriously disturbed, selfism is a superficial theory causing occasional short-term positive effects in people who are already healthy or in those with only trivial neurotic difficulties. In short, selfism is not only bad Christianity, it is bad psychology and any seeming benefits are merely short-term, superficial results that will quickly passP~ Unfortunately, it has happened that these sorts of popular "psychologies" receive the most public notice and are the easiest to understand. They have an :~Abbott, Vatican IL p. 234. ~gCharles T. Tart, ed., Transpersonai Psychologies (New York: Harper and Row Pub. Inc., 1975), p. 66. a0Abbott, Vatican IL p. 234. 3~Vitz, Psychology as Religion. pp. 38-39 5~0 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 immediate appeal and can produce, as Vitz says, positive effects that are merely superficial and pass quickly. Naturally, the passing psychological fads have affected the Church, too; as Maritain points out in a rather sarcastic tone: What tickles my funny bone is the rush of consecrated persons who, in spite of an incurable incompetence, can't wait to have themselves indoctrinated with the most pious (and least scientific) enthusiasm.3-' However, even some of the more professional psychologies cannot be used without careful scrutiny. Perhaps one of those leading the list of psychologists in vogue by more serious-minded studer~ts of spirituality is Carl Jung. How-ever, William McNamara, author of The Art of Being Human, The Human Adventure, Mount of Passion, founder of Spiritual Life magazine and of two contemplative communities, has this to say: .the prodigious talent and work of C.G.lung in the field of psychology is unassailable, but his attempts to engage the interest and sympathy of religious people by his references to God are bound to confuse more than enlighten. According to Augustine Leonard (1956), a man deeply and extensively versed in philosophy and contemporary psychol-ogy, the Divine Quaternity postulated by .lung is a result of confused deductions, and consequently: "Those who christen the psychology of .lung as a mystic psyehology are certainly not entirely wrong. That which .lung calls religion, that which he honestly believes to be religion, is not religion at all. even from the empiricalpoint of view. It appears to be only a very incidental manifestation."33 Toward an Integration of Psychology and Spirituality Nevertheless, even during the infancy of the new science of psychology, spirituality can gain much from it. One area receiving much atiention is that of dreams. Jungian psychologists have been a great help toward an under-standing of dreams, and a spiritual director might want to make occasional use of their analyses. However, it should be noted that whatever comes from the subconscious does not necessarily find its origin in God. In fact, it often can be in direct opposition to the Christian message. In addition, the subconscious is not the human spirit, or our "deep center" as William McNamara calls it: Lastly, man's deep center cannot be equated with what is popularly as well as psycholog-ically termed "the subconscious.'" There is a definite subliminal aspect to the deep center, however.34 To give an example,'there was a person who was very gifted, who certainly had an infused gift of wisdom. She had a dream that an owl flew and came to ~2Maritain, Peasant of the Garonne, p. 180. ~aTart, Transpersonal Psrchologies p. 399. ~41bid. p. 413. Psychology and Spirituality / 521 rest on her arm. The claws hurt quite a bit but were bearable. But other people rejected the owl and began to abuse and hurt the owl. Rather than see such an esteemed creature suffer so, she voluntarily released the owl and had it fly away, although she knew she would sorely miss it. This dream had its origin in the subconscious. The owl symbolized wisdom and the pain of the claws referred to the great pain she suffered in acquiring this wisdom. But the public often rejected such wisdom and she was beginning to think of hiding this precious gift. However, consciously reflecting upon the dream, she rejected hiding the gift since she knew that it was a gift from God which must be shared with the ones that would hear. She had to accept the abuse her gift would suffer in the same way that Christ accepts our continual abuse but does not withdraw from us. The dream, she saw, did not come from God. Nonetheless, in the course of spiritual direction, it was important for her to understand this impulse deep within herself and face it squarely. The area of dreams is but one needed addition that the field of psychology has made to spirituality. Other concepts such as sublimation, self-image, repression, projection, and neurosis are all psychological concepts, and the insights born of these have made their way into spirituality, often with great benefit. But we should keep the warnings of Jacques Maritain in mind, and not rush off to the latest enthusiasm without the proper understanding. Psychol-ogy is an instrument to be used by the student of spirituality, as by the spiritual director, carefully. Like a sharp knife in the hands of a surgeon, it can be used for saving lives. But all too often, it has been used by the unskilled, though with the best of intentions, and it has maimed and sometimes destroyed. It is therefore imperative that some of those in the field of Christian spirituality should be trained in the field of psychology. These people will then be able to guide and direct others in its proper use for spirituality. However, it would be unwise to send someone to study psychology unless he has a firm intellectual and experiential knowledge of Christian spirituality. Otherwise, a subtle warping of true spirituality could take place, and then instead of aiding his spirituality, psychology would damage it. Toward a Christian Psychology It should be apparent by now that what is needed is a Christian psychol-ogy. It would be a study of the human psyche using the insights and under-standings of professional psychologists yet permeated with the thought of the greatest depth psychologist--Jesus Christ. And this will be no minor task, no mere rearranging of ideas or just a substitution of Christian terms for psycho-logical ones (which all too 6ften is the case). Rather, the task will be akin to the integration of the secular science of philosophy with theology. Maritain comments on the Angelic Doctor's use of Aristotelian philosophy: 522 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 Because St. Thomas was a theologian, he was careful in choosing, and choosing well, his philosopher.and he was not content with choosing his philosopher; he made him over from head to toe . To say, as so many professors are fond of doing~ that the philosophy of St. Thomas is the philosophy of Aristotle is a gross error.35 We cannot just pour holy water over a particular psychologist's ideas and call it Christian psychology. °Like philosophy, it, too, must be "made over from head to toe." This paper cannot elucidate the form Christian psychology should take. But it is within our purpose to point out one pitfall that must be avoided. McNamara alluded to this pitfall when saying that the subconscious is not one's deepest center. More directly, any adequate Christian psychology must be aware that the human psyche is not identical with the human spirit. Just as psychology is not identical with spirituality, a full understanding of the psyche will not yield a complete understanding of the spiritual dimension of the person. Yet, like psychology and spirituality, though we distinguish between the psyche and the spirit, we must then unite them to understand the oneness of the person. Let me illustrate the difference between the psyche and the spirit. I know of a woman who was experiencing frequent short periods of rather intense agony which seemed to come from the brain. The periods lasted a short while (lesg than 30 minutes) and could occur any time although it usually happened at night. From all other aspects, she tested out normally, yet she continued to suffer these agonies which could not be explained. The woman feared for her sanity and was in a state of anxiety over these occurrences. After a rather lengthy period of discernment, it became evident that the problem was neither psychological nor physiological, though the anxiety was caused by her failing to understand the reason for her pain. It eventually became clear that the pain was the result of an intense "night." Through the infusion of grace, the senses of this persbn, the intellect especially, were being purified in a more intense way than is normal. Hence, instead of feeling the dryness and aridity that normally accompanies the night of the senses, she actually experienced the grace as pain because of its strength. Such a situation is clearly beyond the expertise of a psychologist, and illustrates well the difference between the psyche and the spirit. Spiritual realities, especially in higher contemplative and mystical states, can and often do conflict with "good'' psy6hology. It would have been easy for a psycholo-gist to misread such symptoms and even cause damage--just as could a direc-tor unskilled in the spiritual tradition. Fortunately this was not the case. Of the proper response to this night of the s~nses, Poulain says: "The only thing, then, is to resign ourselves to this terrible situation: frankly to accept a prayer the foundation of which is repose in suffering."36. J~Maritain. Peasant of the Garonne, p. 157. Psychology and Spirituality / $23 This the woman did, and the night of the senses eventually gave way to the peace of contemplation, as indeed it usually does. The pitfall of confusing the psyche with the spirit can be devastating for all Christians, not just for those living a contemplative life. There is a tendency to believe that a completely balanced psyche is identical with a healthy and holy spirit. This is true in the final states of union with God: perhaps the transform-ing union in this life, and certainly the beatific vision in the next. However, it is not necessarily true, and perhaps is not usually the case for those of us who are plodding along our way to our final goal. In fact, psychological impair-ment and spiritual imperfection are often the instruments by which sanctity is wrought by God! This spiritual reality is stated in the second letter to the Corinthians where Paul writes about himself: Three times I begged the Lord that this might leave me. He said to me. "My grace is enough for you, for in weakness power reaches perfection." And so I willingly boast of my weakness instead, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I am content with weakness, with mistreatment, with distress, with persecu-tion and difficulties for the sake of Christ; for when I am powerless, it is then that I am strong (2 Co 12:9-10). This is certainly in harmori~, with Catherine's double knowledge: "You are the one who is not; 1 am the one who is." This understanding of the salutary role of spiritual and psychological imperfection in our pilgrimage to God was one of the foundations of the spirituality of the sometimes neurotic Carmelite, St. Therese of Lisieux: Therese accepted her imperfections and wretchedness with a good heart. When she felt stirrings of her nature or yielded involuntarily to imperfections, far from being aston-ished, she took delight in it and drew benefit from it: "1 know the means for being always happy and drawing profit from my miseries~ Jesus seems to encourage me on this road . He teaches me to profit from everything, both from the good and the evil that I find in myself." This is the way saints react. They are no more exempt from weaknesses than we are. Far from grieving on their account, they accept themselves as they are and make use of their imperfections to raise themselves nearer to God.37 Thus it is not always true that psychological wholeness is of necessity what God seeks for us in this life, although like physical health, we should try our best to develop otir fullness as complete human beings, including our psycho-logical well-being. Nevertheless, this fullness will be unattainable for most, and it is the wise director who does not allow those he directs to dwell too much on their own ~'Poulain, The Graces of Interior Prayer, p. 157. 37Francois Jamart. Complete Spiritual Doctrine of St. Therese of Lisieux. trans. Walter Van DePutte (New York: Alba House. 1961). pp. 38-39. 524 / Review for Religious, July-Aug., 1981 deficiencies, lest dejection and finally despair result. There are certainly times when psychological problems must be faced, and it is rare that any spiritual problem will not have psychological overtones, and vice versa. However, one should beware of seeking psychological wholeness as the primary goal in spiritual direction, assuming that spiritual development will naturally be a result. This is not always the case. Nor should the disciplines of psychology and spirituality be taken as equals~° In spiritual direction, the individual must follow the promptings of the Spirit even if they might, though not necessarily, disagree with the individual's immediate emotional desires. For example, someone might feel the prompt-ings of the Spirit to work with the poor but have an initial feeling of revulsion. Certainly, if he overrides these passing emotional .feelings, and follows his deeper call, the feelings of revulsion will disappear. A vocation followed will eventually lead to a deep inner peace. However, we can only know this through faith and through our knowledge of the spiritual tradition of the Church. Many times the promptings of the Spirit will also be e.motionally pleasing, and thus it will be a spo

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 36.5 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edaed by faculty members of St LOUIS University, the editor,al offices being located at 612 Humboldt Braiding, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1977 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: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 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 FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor September 1977 Volume 36 Number 5 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW Fon REL1c~ous; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts andbooks for review should be sent to REVXEW YOn REL~CIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. The First Week of the Spiritual Exercises and the Conversion of Saint, Paul Carolyn Osiek, R.S.C.J. Sister Carolyn is on the faculty of Catholic Theological Union, Chicago, where she teaches New Testament. Most recently, she had been Research/Resource Associate in Women's Studies at H~rvard Divinity'School. Her address: Catholic Theological Union; 5401 S. Cornell; Chicago, IL 60615. The title ~ays in a general way the topic of this article. Actually, however, it is somewhat the other way around, for another way of expressing the topic would be: Paul's decisive "First Week" experience, or, the "First Week" in the life of Paul. The present investigation Will be an attempt to focus, examine, and understand the personal experience of Paul which parallels and reflects the process experienced and planned by Ignatius for his followers in what he later came to call the "First Week" of the Spiritual Exercises. There are some obvious limitations to such an undertaking. First, if as is generally accepted, Paul's initial conversion experience took place some-time between 33-36 A.D., and if what is preserved of his Philippian, Ga-latian, and Corinthian correspondence was written between the years 54 and 57 from Ephesus, there is a 20 year gap between the.experience and the description. 1 Second, Paul had no intention of writing an autobiography.' He alludes to his own spiritual experience only insofar as it helps him convey ~The chronology of the letters is disputed. Here I follow J. A. Fitzmyer, "A Life ~Jf Paul," Jerome Biblical Commenthry, ed. R. E. Brown. J. A. Fitzmyer. R. E. Murphy (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.:Prentice Hall, 1968), pp. 218, 221. 657 6511 / Review for Religious, .Volume 36, 1.,977/~5 his point to others, usually in terms of the bankruptcy of the Mosaic laW vis-a-vis the grace of Christ--a religious situation far removedin actuality from the experience of most of us, whatever figurative applications can be made. Third, the one source in which Paul's spiritual conversion-is graph-ically and formally portrayed (in triplicate)--Acts 9:22 and 26~could be utilized in a consideration of New Testament theology of conversion, but in the light of modern scriptural source criticism cannot responsibly be used to shed light on Pauline spirituality or spiritual experience. Some of the elements picked up by Luke in.his triple narrative will be used as illustrative of the Pauline experience in the wider dimension of familiar religious symbols, but it must be kept in mind that for Paul they are secondary. This brings us to a statement of the broader scope of the present under-taking. The purpose of the investigation is not historical. If it were, it could well stop with the Pauline data. Rather, the full scope is an attempt to understand Paulis wounding and healing as exemplary of a common spir-itual journey through death to new life for a purpose. The expanded ar- .ticulation of that process is drawn from personal experience as retreatant and as a spiritual director. It might be well to begin by describing the structure of the "First Week' '~ process as it will be treated here. Basically it is a movemrrit of entering into death in Order to have life, of descending into the depths 0nly to find there new inspiration to arise, of going down with the old and familiar and coming up in newness, as the ancient ritual of baptism by immersion so clearly portrays. It is wodnding and healing, alienation and reconciliation as the person comes face to face first with human evil and then with divine good-ness. Precisely where these two currents cross is the point of greatest pain because the comparison becomes nearly unehdurable. But out of the con-flict engen.dered by that pain comes the energy to begin anew, and thus the paradoxical cycle of death and rebirth is once again lived out. Ignatius' term -confusion" is not a bad word to describe the growing sense that something is wrong, both in its literary meaning of "shame" and especially in its more common sense of "losing one's bea.rings." There are three stages that can occur as defenses are stripped away and the sense of confusion sharpens. Ignatius described these three stages one way in n. [63] of the Exercises: first, a deep knowledge of-pers~onalo sin and a feeling of abhorrence; second, an understanding of the "disorder of my actions" and a resulting feeling of horror; third, a. knowledge of the sinfulness of the world ~.and, again, a.sense of horror. Abhorrence and horror are strong enough terms, yet they imply a primacy of activity on the part of the retreatant though, it must be added, the grace to have such feelings is clearly seen as something to be asked of and freely bestowed by God. The terminology used by Ignatius here, at least as we can understand it four centuries later, does not adequatrly desc.ribe the passive nature of the First Week experience as it is sometimes encountered when, without active The Spiritual Exercises and the Conversion of Paul / 659 pursuit of desire for sorrow for sin, and so forth, rational defenses and affective supports ~reviously relied upon suddenly disappear. Disorienta-tion deepens as awareness of sin increases. The revelation of sinfulness progresses; as Ignatius.described it, in three stages. The first is that of felt guilt over specific acts for which the person is respohsible, guilt that has been accumulating perhaps over a long period of time, the full impact of which suddenly bursts forth with unexpectedly painful sharpness as the reti'eatant faces God and himself in solitude. Crnfusion is balanced only by the fi~m witness of the mercy and forbearance of God in allowing the person t~J come to this point. The second stage occurs if the layer of the conscious mind can be sufficiently peelea off to-reveal the underlying basic tendencies to evil for which a perso~n is only partly responsible at the conscious level. The feeling of confusion, pain,, a~nd alienation increases and a ne'w factor eri(ers in: helplessness-sthe inability to do what one Would want to do about vast areas of life. ,;The realization deepens that one is unable to Consciously regulate tendencies to grab for security, love, and control that diminish both victims and subject. The person is painfully aware of not being in control of his own motivation. At this point feelings of guilt mix with a newly discovered fear of one's own innate destructiveness. Mistrust of oneself can be countered by trust in the God who has kept him from becoming worse than he is. In the third stage the probe of the ~pirit goes deeper still until it reaches the 16vel at which personal responsibility is no longer at stake. It is .the experience of total powerlessn~ess, helplessness, total inability to act in any way.to save oneself. The forces of disintegration seem to be triumphing and God seems to have left the person totally to his own resources which have consequently cru'mbled. Here it is no longer a question of guilt and merc~,, but of the ability to live with fear and to cling to some memory of the love of God. The familiar theological maxim that God sustains all things in existence at every moment becomes a crushing reality, for the person is This "confusion." flowing from the sense of being judged by God, is not the result of a rational process: it is total loss of face before a situation which cannot be long endured with the usual supports of reason and prudence. We find ourselves con-fronted by ttie cross of Christ placed in the presence of unmeasuredness itself, that which is "madness to the world" (I Co 1:23).2 Z"La 'confusion.' fruit spirituel de cejugement divin, n'est pas le r~sultat d'une argumenta- 'tign logique: elle est perle totale de contenance, devant une situation qui pr~cis~ment ne peut ~tre plus Iongte.mps support~e avec !es ressources habituelles de la raison et de la pru-dence. ~Nous voici, devant la Croix du Christ. mis ,en presence de la d~mesure m~me, qm est 'folie l~our le monde" (I Cor 1:23) . La premiere semaine des Exercices." Christus, vol. 6. no. 21 (1959), pp. 22-39 (translation mine). 660 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 sure that nothing within himself is preserving his being, .and yet it seems to be God himself wh6 is crushing him. Ignatius understood [53] that only the total powerlessness of Christ on the cross as he is destroyed by force.s beyond human control can give any meaning to this experience, W. de Broucker describes this state of soul in a way that sums up the whole triple movement: It is precisely the attitude expressed by the dying Chris.t that marks the beginning of the movement upward: "Into your hands I commit my spirit." Surrender into the hands of God, the cessation of struggle against the force that seems to be annihilating the self, goes against the basic instinct of human nature. It is natural for us "to fight for life, to hang on tenuously to the familiar. If the shred of self that is left can be given up, a new self can be formed. With surrender comes trust that there is someone or something to surrender to, and that something other than total chaos can result. Once trust has been given, a dim hope can begin to arise, an assurance that dawn will~ome and that a reason for the suffering and death of the experience may be that something greater is coming to birth. With a new confidence given to the force that is at work within, further insight into one's personal responsibility may result. There may be deep-ened realization of how one's total helplessness before God, now a.~vivid reality, creates subconscious defenses in the form of root tendencies to turn away from God in order to avoid pain, conflict, or unwelcome truth. New awareness of personal orientation away from God then leads to a whole new outlook about personal sinfulness. The avoidance, neglect, anxiety, and self-seeking expressed in everyday~life as sin are seen with much more understanding and insight into one's personal motivation.s and weaknesses. At this point a healing of pain and guilt can take place and the mercy of God becomes an invading presence _bringing with it the experience of reconcil-iation leading to a deep sense of peace and eventually of joy. The new clarity of understanding leads inevitably, for the person who remains faithful in following the new way where God is'leading, to a trans-formation of attitude and behavior. This transformation is a psychiC and spiritual change that invades the whole person, btit rarely does it happen all at once. It involves the abandoning of certain accepted values and untried assumptions regarding personal autonomy, perception of truth, or need for affectivity. Realization of what God is asking in these areas and consequent surrender and acceptance of change usually happen gradually over a period of at least several months. What is happening simultaneously is the ac-quisition of a new set of personal values to replace the old ones, values usually founded on sharpened awareness of the fragility and weakness of the self and a deep sense of awe an~d gratitude at the ways that God's power is at work in weakness. Mary Esthei- Harding describes the psychological change that is taking place at this point: The Spiritual Exercises and the Conversion of Paul / 661 Whenever there is an upsurge of highly activated unadapted material into conscious-ness, the task of assimilation becomes urgent. This holds true whether the new material is valuable, creative stuff or merely alchaic phantasy that bespeaks more a morbid exuberance than a prolific creativity. The assimilation of the new material demands a fresh standpoint, which implies a recognition of the relativity of all former judgments. What was formerly considered unqualifiedly good must'now be judged in the light of,the new and enlarged understanding; the same must be done with that which has been considered bad? The whole experience might be summarized as an awareness of: the goodness of God gratitude sinful actions guilt. need for mercy, forgiveness sinful tendencies fear struggle need to experience love of God powerlessness surrender trust hope And a new awareness of: sinful tendencies new awareness of mercy love motivqtion for sinful power of God acts , need to change There follows a healing and reconciliation peace, joy and a gradual transformation of values, attitudeS, behavior As 'was stated at the beginning, the primary focus of this paper is the spiritual experience of Paul, aRd the previous discussion of the process is by ~ay of setting the stage. Patil's change Of heart is classically spoken of as a "conversion;" The limitation inherent in the use of this term is the restricted sense in which the word is most often used: change of faith or religion or, somewhat more broadly, emendation of a wayward moral life, while the root meaning of the word "conversion' ~ is really something closer to an "about face~'--a total turning of the person from one orientation to another. While Paul's "conversions" certainly did entail a change of reli-gious affiliation, though probably not a change of moral conduct, it must be Understood. primarily in the broadest sense of the term, as a complete overthrow and turn-about of personal values. Because of the ambiguities aPsychic Energy: Its Source and Its Transformation, 2nd ed. Bollingen Series X (Washington, D.C.: Pantheon, 1963), p. 285. 662 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 present.in the word "conversion," it might be preferable to ~pe~ak of the "transformhtion" of Paul in his encounter with the li~,ing Christ.4 Contrary to, what much p0pu,!ar arid undiscrimina.ting piety (and perhaps even the a~uthor of Acts)would,have us think, Paul's transformation did not happen.overnight or even in three days as a careless reading of Acts 9:18-30 might suggest. Paul himself speaks of three years (Ga 1:18).~tran~spiring before he began to preach Christ. There is no reason' to suppose that the process moved along with remarkable speed. We tend to clothe Paul's transformation~ixperien~e in'a thick ~overirig of the miraculous, leaning too heavily on the clear triple account of Acts and too lightly on Paul's own illusive comments. The flash of light, the heavenly voice of the reveals/r, Paul's being struck to the ground, and the mysterious three-day blindness are all stock elements of narrations of divine epiph-anies. For some, miraculous revelations are a stumblingblock and a source of conflict. But for most people today, they are something else: an invitation to disregard. And so what happens°is that someone like Paul, who leaps out at us so humanly in his own writings, becomes relegated to the dim past, to the gallery of "saints" who are not quite as human as the rest of us, to the realm of the "supernatural" dichotomized from that realm in which we ourselves live and struggle. The reason for all this is 'not surprising: we do not have to have the uncomfortable experience of seeingourselves reflected in such a "saint." The ways of God with humanity are as varied as are the persons who seek to know them, and yet there are qualities of our common humanity that remain very much the same. It is for this reason that an analysis'of the transformation process a~ given above, and an attempt to see that process as it happened in Paul are worthwhile. We may be able to see something of ourselves in him and so better understand the ways of God in us. It is a mistake to think of Paul as changing f.rom hardened persecutor to egthusiastic mystic, from~his, blind cruelty to a Christian sensitivity, as though: his transformation, were from sinner to saint. Paul was not a hard man; .he was a sincere and generous man. His pursuit of Christians sprang 4An important article or] the structure and Western interpretations o"f Paul's conversion ex-perience appeared long ~go and attracted considerable nOtice in Protestant Scholarly circles, coming as it did out of a Lutheran interpretation of~Paul; I refer to Krister Stendahl'.s "The Apostle Paul and the Introspective Conscience of the West," Harvard Theglogical:Revi~ew 56:3 (July, 1963), pp. 199-215, an article well worth reading. In recent conversation betwe_en the author arid rfiyse!f there was agreement about Paul's "clear conscience" regarding his former way of life in Judaism (see ~specially pp. 200-201); however, I would not want to stress the idea of "introspection" as the search for personal sin, but would rather emphasize the seeking after awareness of God's action within the person. In contrast to Dean Stendahl's interpretation (pp. 204-205) I would distinguish two aspects of Paul's change of ways: first, a personal transformation, and second, the directing of that new energy toward evange Jzat~on of the Gentiles. The Spiritual Exercises and the Conversion of Paul / 663 not from cruelty but from enthusiasm in the service of God. He was the good and tlpright man whom the Lord loved, and because the Lord loved hii~ so much, he called him to give more. Paul says of himself (Ph 3:5-6) that his family and religious credentials were impeccable and that he had done far more than the minimum required to be a son of the Law. He was without fault in itg r~gard,'fully aware of its value as gift bestowed upon Is-rael as a proof bf God's love. Hi~ sincere thirst for justice miast have led him periodically into the self-scrutiny of the just which produces an awa(eness of personal failings anti sinful tendencies that only deepens devotion as it deepens-an ap~areciation of God's mercy. ,.Then something happened. Whether his encounter with the living Christ was as dramatic as Acts 9 portrays it is doubtful, for Paul nowhere alludes to~,,his experie]ace as containing elements of the sensational,but rather de-scribes it qui[e simply: "Have I not seen Jesus our Lord?" (1 Co 9:1); "I did not receive [the gospel] from a human source nor was I.taught by any but a revelation from Jesus Christ" (Ga 1:12); "God who had set me aside from my mother's womb called me through his grace and revealed his son in me" (Ga 1:15; see Is 49:1; Jr 1:5). There is an undeniable sense of personal encounter and ,call, even for a specific mission, but ~very little impression of fanfare. He found himself at point zero, knocked off his horse more internally than externally, with no patterned defenses or conditioned responses to fall back on that had not been stripped away by a new presence that was relentlessly pursuing him. ,When the realization of whathad happened began to take hold of him, Paul knew he had been changed. Luke's image of blindness approximates in physical.terms what must have been his psychic,state for a period of time: confusion, loss, fear, inner chaos, spiritual paralysis, the terrifying~feeling that hig whole world was coming apart. As he began to surrender to the force that was invading him, he would have become aware that it was a new and unwelcome presence that of Jesus of Nazareth, suddenly: intruding upon his well-ordered world. This is in fact the heart of the experience of brokenness: that Christ manifests himself in a new and unexpected way, and before his demanding presence all pre-conceived structures of life must be put aside. '~ Onc~ he had accepted what was happening, he would have begun to see h~ms~lfin a new way, feeling within himself the slowi3i-dawning and terrible realization that he had misplaced his devotion and misdirected his zeal, the frustration of knowing for the first time that he had beeri turned in a di-rection which, in the light of a new awareness, he had to judge as the wrong way. New understanding Would .have brought about new se'lf-knowledge and a new capacity for radical honesty about the movements of his life, enveloped in deepened awe at the sustaining and patient love of God re-vealed in Christ who was now calling into question the whole meaning of his life. ,664 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 The realization that the love of God has been constant when our re-sponse has been anything but constant, that his forgiveness was extended even before we knew for what to ask it, can be a crushing blow from which the security of the ego never fully recovers. The wound inflicted on it is not cured, as if the tearing never happened; rather, it is healed, brought to new wholeness- not in spite of, but because of the rending. As is often the case, Paul's healing and reconciliation with God were not for his sake only., but that he might lead many others to the same point: "The love of Christ overwhelms us when we realize that one died for all., so that the living should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again., for everything is from God who has reconciled us to himself through Christ and given us the ministry of reconciliation" (2 Co 5:14-18). What is cautiously born then is a'self that must undertake the painful task of she~lding and leaving behind as so much debris much that the former self deemed of value, in order to make room for new value to come. In the case .of Paul the reversal which he had to endure to be faithful to newly-given grace was dramatic and loaded with not only personal but also social consequences: "But whatever was formerly gain to me, I have com~ to consider it loss because of Christ; mor.eover, I now consider everything loss because of the overwhelming knowledge of Jesus Christ my Lord, for whom I have let go of eve~:ything and consider it rubbish in order to gain Christ and be counted with him" (Ph 3:7-9). For him it meant giving up a worldview, religious affiliation, a certainty of being right, a reputation, family and friends, the whole fabric of personal and social relationships that had formed the pattern of his life. Few are called to so drasti6.a change. Yet the most fundamental change must have been one with which many can resonate: the need to reconstruct from broken fragments.a new self, a much more fragile self, like an earthenware jar hollowed out at the center in which "the overflowing power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). It is the need to understand and accept the voice of Christ addressed to the prostrate human spirit, "My grace is enough, for strength is brought to fullness in weakness," and to respond by saying, "Joyfully then I will openly share my weakness so that the power of Christ may be revealed through me" (2 Co 12:8-9). It might be argued that the above account of Paul's conversion .and transformation is a fanciful extrapolation based on insufficient data. Yet the essential human experience underlying it is so basic and .universal that no matter in how many myriad forms it is manifested, a true experience of transformation from one spiritual state to another (as opposed to a super-ficial "conversion" that is only temporary because self-induced) has certain fundamentally similar components. Certainly Paul's experience was a trans-formation of this kind. Though he leaves many things unsaid, the pain and fear, the bewildering search, and ultimately the ecstasy of discovering that it is precisely in crucifying weakness that the power of the risen Christ is manifested, come through in the few literary traces he has left. The Spir!tual Exercises and the Converison of Paul / 665 For Paul transformation meant a radical break with the past, with family, home, and faith. For most of us, the break is not so abrupt, and yet the need to abandon old habits of thinking and feeling to make room for new ones still only dimly perceived is a common element. Spiritual directors are plentiful these days, but guides and models in one's spiritual experience are not always easy to come by. An ability to find echoes of one's own life in the jolting experience of Paul may give encouragement and be a cause for that movement of hope in darkness which affirms with him that no matter how chaotic may be the experience of finding out what we really are, for the person who continues trying to hang on the way Christ has hung onto him neither height of blind pride nor depth of despair--both of which can co-exist in the same person--nor any creature of the imagination can ever wrench us away from the love of God that is expressed to us in Christ Jesus our Lord.5 ~See Ph 3:12; Rm 8:39. REPRINTS FROM THE REVIEW Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits by J. R. Sheets, S.J. .50 Retirement or Vigil by B. Ashley, O.P. .30 The Confessions of Religious Wom~en by Sr. M. Denis, S~.O.S. 30 The Four Moments of Prayer by J. R. Sheets, S.J. .50 The Healing of Memories by F, Martin .35 The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat by H. F. Smith, S.J . 35 The Teaching. Sister in the Church by E. Gambari, S.M.M. .30 The Theology., of the Eucharistic Presence by J. Galot, S.J. .30 The Vows and Christian Life by G. Greif, S.J. .30 New Reprints° Centering Prayer--Prayer o~ Quiei by M. B. Pi:nnington, O.C.S.O .50 Colloquy of God With a Soul That Truly Seeks Him .30 Prayer of Personal Reminiscence by D. J, Hassel, S.J. .60 Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 No. Grand Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63103' Please include remittance with all orders less than $5.00 A Theology of the Religious Life Local Church and Ladislaus Orsy, S.J. Father Orsy teaches Canon Law at the Catholic University of America. He resides at Carroll House; 1225 Otis St. N.E.; Washington, DC 20017. The text of this article is the keynote address given in New Orleahs at the annual convention of the National Conference of Vicars for Religious, on March 21, 1977. The notes were added later to try to dispel some ambiguities in the text and, elucidate further the author's mind. Saint Thomas Aquinas introduced one of his famous works with the Sen-tence: "A small error in the beginning leads to a great one in the end.''1 In the same spirit of wise caution we can say that the wrong question ~n thee beginning is likely to lead to the wrong answer at the end. Let us transform, therefore, the terse words of the title, "A :Theology of the Local ChUrch and Religious Life," into a question rightly construed, that can lead us securely in our inquiry toward the ans~ver~s that we do not know at the point of our departure. Indeed, the title breaks up quite naturally into three queries: 1. What is our understanding of the local church? (By under:standing we mean tides quaerens intellectum; faith seeking underst.and!ng. Here we mean the knowledge of the local church that is givew t.hroughfaith, and is deepened through our reflection on the data of faiths)z ° ~ ~ 2. What is our understanding of religious life? (Understanding means, here again, knowledge through faith and reflection.) , 3. What is, and what should be, the right relationship between the two? The questions spring quite natur~ally from the title. Yet, I am still not satisfied with them. They shouldbb focused with more care, sharpened with greater precision. Also, they should impose a limit on our rather broad topic, and thus make the discussion of it more manageable for our specific purpose. Let us try again to set the right questions. 666 A Theology of the Local Church and Religious Life / 667 1. What is our understanding of the fact, of the ~event, of a particular church ? There are two significant changes in this new formulation. We seek a better understanding of the fact or event of the church; that is, our'focus is not on an abstract concept, but on an actually existing community of Chris-tians who form a church, although not the:universal Church. Our focus is concrete and existential. Our understanding will develop more from .the observation of the living body than from the analysis of texts. Also, we substituted the term "particular" for "local." The reason for this isthat local church has a geographical connotation and tends to point to a parish or to a diocese, hardly to more than these. The term "particular" allows greater flexibility; it points toward the natural unity of a group of Christians inside the broad,universal community. Such unity may well emergedn a diocese, .but it may well go beyond it and extend as far as an ecclesiastical province, a region, or a country.~ It may even spread over several countries. To seek the understanding of a "particular" church, instead of a "local" church, frees us from narrow boundaries and will allow us to examine the issue in a broader context? But we must impose a restriction on ourselves. We do not intend to exhaust the mystery of a particular church by investigating all its dimen-sions. We want to understand its life in relationship to religious commu-nities. That is all; but, it is a lot. 2. What is our understanding of the fact and event of religious com-munities? Here, too, our focus is concrete. Our primary interest is not in the concept of religious life, but in the real life.of religious communities.4 With a well-defined limitation: we seek the understanding of the life and work of religious communities in their .relationship to a particular church in which they exist, and where they give themselves to the service of the universal church. 3. What is, or what should be, the relationship between the two, a particular church and religious commutiities, in it? We intend to reflect on the living relationship that exists, or should exist, in the b6dy of the church between two diverse members. We seek ihis understanding in view oflntelligent Christian action, with the intention of ¯ finding norms and guidelines for such action. Let us turn now to the first q,uestion. First Question: How Can We Come to,a'Better understanding of the Particular Church? All understanding begins with the perception of facts. For facts about the particular church we must turn to the awareness of Christians through-out- the centuries, from the beginning to our days. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 Some historical pointers about the development of the particular church; or, how did the Christian community perceive the particular church throughout its history? In the early centuries, Christian communities developed maihly along the great commercial routes of the Roman Empire. Soon they structured themselves; the bishop presided over the congregation. The local com-munities were closely knit; those were the times when Christians knew each other by name. While they were aware of the universal dimension of their religion, they enjoyed a certain amount of local autonomy,. Yet, right from the beginning, there was a ,movement to bring the smaller communities around the bishop into a larger unity, either under the supervision of a traveling bishop, or under a metropolitan residing in a larger city, usually the capital of a province. Particular churches with their own language, liturgy, discipline and customs, developed, not so much in each~city, but in larger territories that represented a natural cultural unity, They developed different understandings of Christian faith; they created different practices. Of course, those differences did not go so far as to deny or contradict the unity necessary for universality, but they certainly went far enough to give a different character to each of those particular churches.'~ Such trends are clearly discernible well into the Middle Ages. Individual dioceses in most places were too small to give a specific ex-pression to their faith, to create their own discipline; culturally, they were ¯ ¯ absorbed into a larger unity, into the ecclesiastical province or the national church. Thus, the Irish church, from the beginning, wa.s quite different from the continental churches, yet there was not much difference from one diocese to another. The English church, too, had its own characteristics under the leadership of Canterbury. On the Continent, the legal customs of Germanic peoples gave a certain unity to many churches. In Spain, the Mozarabic rite developed and united many dioceses in worship. In France, churches around Lyons formed again a vital unity, distinguished by their liturgy. We could continue the enumeration of such developments, but for the purpose of this article, let us content ourselves with a general statement, that I believe is historically correct. If by particular church we mean a church that has its own specific charisms, its own mind and its own heart within the universal Church, then only a few dio.ceses were truly.particular churches,n Differences in theology, liturgy, and discipline could be found much more between ecclesiastical provinces, regions and territories of nations, than between dioceses. The source of such variety is much more in human culture than in the understanding of faith. With the waning of the Middle Ages, a change takes place. The power of the metropolitan see in the Western church is reduced to a minimu~m. Liturgical worship, preaching, and discipline become strongly unified in the whole Church, even to the point of exaggerated uniformity. The role. of A Theology of the Local Church and Religious Life / 6159 particular churches, be they dioceses, regions or provinces, is reduced to a minimum. Vatican Council II wanted to restore the dignity of the particular church and the bishops sti'essed its importance repeatedly,r ~'et the council was not in a position to do much reflection on the nature of the particular church, on what it has been throughout different periods of.history; it did not tell us how the term should be understood in the future. Indeed,°the developments after the council reflect some confusion, even some contradiction in these matters. In many theoretical writings and commentaries on the council, it is assumed that the particular church is the diocese. Its unity, its specific character, its distinctive vocation are em-phasized. Yet recent developments in liturgical and disciplinary legislation do not give,.much importance to individual dioceses; they give much more power to larger :tinits represented by national or regional episcopal con-ferences. While differentiation on the diocesan level is virtually impossible, ex-cept in insignificant and minor matters, privileges, exemptions, special permissions are easily granted to a larger unit such as a region or a nation. It is clear now that the term "particular church" can be used in two distinct ways. It may refer to an individual diocese, to one congregation around its bishop, or it may refer to a larger unit that comprises several dioceses and possesses a unity that springs from human factors such as culture, history, national inheritance, and so forth. Both uses are legitimate and important. But the meaning ought to be clarified in each case. Reflecting on the relationship of religious communities to the particular church, we cannot sweep away this problem of meaning, calling it purely semantic. The issue of relationship is alive on both levels and brings up different problems that we must face. There is the issue of the rela~tionship of.religious communities to a diocese. But there is also the issue of the relationship of religious com, munities to a larger unit, e.g., ~to the national church, that has its own particular characteristics. In the United States, both issues are alive. Theological reflections on the fact or event of the particular church, or, what is our understanding of a particular church? 1. Christian people throughout their historY were aware of belonging, as it were, to two communities: one, universal, the other, particular. The universal' community is world-wide; it springs from the action of the one Spirit of God, who was poured out on the face of the earth. The entrance into it is through one baptism that is the same everywhere. The particular community is the local one~ For some, the local church means the parish, for some others the diocese, for others again, it may well mean the church in a country. 2. The temptation always existed, and will probably never leave us, to Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 oppose the two to the point that one is considered important at the expense of the other. But any such consideration is wrong because it tears up the visible body .of Christ. When we speak of the universal Church and the particular ones we. do nothing less.and nothing more than to describe an existing differentiation in the social, body of Christ. His body is one, but it is composed of parts; the whole could not exist without the parts;-and the parts have no life .in themselves. Any separation means death for all; any destruction of natural harmony brings sickness to the whole organism. 3. Paradoxes can be helpful inour attempt to understand such complex differentiation. It can be :said that there is both autonomy and dependence in each member of the body. The particular church is autonomous and yet it depends on the universal Church. The universal (~hurch is itself the source of life for all other churches; yet its vitality comes entirely from the local churches. We may think of the autonomy of the heart in bur body. It will not ~ perform well unless all the other organs let it do what its spec!fic task is; any unwarranted intervention with. the heart,may bring subsequent disaster for the whole body. Yet the heart is totally dependent in its function on the whole body. The rhythm of its beat, the strength of its action, are carefully regulated by numerous other factors and agents present in the living body. If they,.cease . to function, no life-giving blood will flow into the heart. We may not be able to reach~a precise definition for the local church, but reflection through symbols and images can give us a great deal of, under-standing. 4. If we ask now what precisely the source.of differences is among the local churches, we find that it is mainly in the humanity of those Christians who form them, that is, not so much in any specific Christian belief, but in th~ human traditions; history and culture of those who believe. Thus, initially, the Jews and the Greeks and the Romans all received the good news equally, but they built up churches that were marked by their own culture, national customs and characteristics. Thus there were soon Jewish churches, Hellenistic Churches, and churches of the Romans, all part of the "same universal Church, yet all different. .Later, the inhabitants of Ireland, of England, of the Iberian peninsula built their churches on the universal elements of Christian faith, worship, " and discipline, and on the particular elements of tl~eir own inheritance. 5. The situation is not much different today. Here and there, an isolated di6cese may be found that has its own distinctive life as a diocese. The Christian community of a Pacific Island may well develop.distinctive traits that no other diocese in this world can possess. But such cases are rare today. More often there is a regional unity. The dioceses of Alaska form a natural unity that is quite different from their sister churches in the South. A Theology of the Local Church and Religious Life / 671 There" might also be a national unity. The dioceses of Japan are not mark-edly different from each other; the strong unity of the culture and traditions on the four islands is manifest in the particular church of Japan. Even a whole contir~ent can display a unity. How many times in recent years we have. heard the churches of South America speaking with voices that were strikingly similar to one another. There are foundations in South America for a specific particular unity that embraces the Christians of many dio-ceses, numerous provinces and several nations. 6. °Such re°flecti0ns and considerations do not leave us with a clear concept'and definition of what a particular church is; but they leave us with a good working understanding of the complex nature of our Church that is both universal and particular at the same time. Our undei-standing reflects the true state of things and.~e do not become captive of romantic ideas that are definitely present in the .post-conciliar writings. Father Karl Rahner himself stresses that there is church whenever the bishop celebrates the Eucharist, surrounded by his community. Such a ViSion certainly corre-sponds to our earliest traditions, but it is simply not realistic today. Few of the faithful ever partake in the Eucharist'celebrated by the bishop, and the size of the dioceses geographically or numerically makes any such cele- I~ration virtually iml56ssible. Our understanding it not in adopting clear theories. It is much more the perception of the changing, shifting realities of the Chi~rch. That is how it should be. The duty of Chri~tia.ns to uphold the particular church; or, how must we confess in word and deed our belief in the particular church? At this point, two facts stand out. One is that there is no Christian Church without particular churches, as~there is no human body withotit members. The other is that there is no Christian who does not belong, somehow, to a particular church, as there is no individual cell that does not belong,to a distinct organ in the human body. No one can; therefore, belong to the Christian Church without assuming the duty to uphold a particular church, although this duty may well be differentiated according to the condition of each one, as we shall see. There is no direct and immediate entry, into the universal Church, since it is the communio of local churches. Interestingly enough, not even the pope him-self, who traditionally has been called the "Bishop of Rome," or the "Uni-versal Bishop," belongs exclusively to the universal Church. He is not residing in a territory detached from all particular churches, as the Presi-dent of the United States resides in the District of Columbia, detached from any allegiance to any state. The pope is the Bishop of Rome and belongs to that particular, church, while he is also the head of the universal Church. The very structure of the (2hurch demandsthat there should be aduty on every single person to uphold his own local or particular church. The support to a,memb.er church must always be in harmony and good 679 / Review for Religious, Volume,36, 1977/5 balance with the belief and support given to the universal Church. There is no precise measure to determine how much a Christian should give tohis particular community and how much to the universal congregation of the Church. Such measure can only be determined by taking into account a call and a mandate: the vocation of an individual person or of a distinct com~ munity. Even in the case of the same person, of the same community, the contribution can be shifting and changing according to needs, and their existing capacity to give. Now we have come to the point where we can speak .more explicitly about the duty of religious communities to uphold the local, particular church. It is a duty from which there is no exception and no exemption. But the duty is not the same in every group. Religious ins'titutes that are exempt from the jurisdiction of the local or~linary and subject to the direct supervision of the Holy See, have a f9ndamental universality, a call and a mandate to go to local churches where the need is greater.8 They are freed from the power of the local,.bishop, not in order to be total free-lancers in the Church, but to be free to serve~ anywhere in any local church. Because of the universal call and mandate of such religious institutes, their world-wide organization, their capacity to move from one place to another should be respected. But once they are settled within the boundaries of the local church or in the territory of a particular church in the broader sense, they must blend into the local scene; they must even strike roots in the local soil in order to bring forth good fruit. They should not be a source of disruption, but a source of strength.9 Similar considerations apply to'various communities of pontifical right. As a rule their vision goes beyond the limits of a particular church, their aspirations often stretch far and wide. But they too, are at some place and have the duty to serve the people of God there. Then there are the institutes of diocesan right. They dedicate them-selves to the service of the universal Church through serving exclusively near a local church. They are not superior or inferior to the others; they simply have their own distinctive vocation and dedication. The duty to respect.and to serve a particular church SpringS not only from a law imposed by God through the structures of the Church, but also from the respect due to differences manifest in our human nature and in our historical traditions. The upholding of the local church originates in a deep belief in the Incarnation; in the blending of divine and h6man elements in the Christian community. The gift of God may be similar all around but it takes different shapes and forms in various ~places. Second Question: How Do We Perceive Existentially, Understand Rationally, and Be at Home Practically With Religious Communities? The question sounds broad but the focus of our inquiry is strictly cir-cumscribed again. We do not wish to reflect over all the aspects of the A Theology of the Local Church and Religious Life / 673 existence and life of religious communities. We want to know, to under-stand and help them in their relationship to the local and particular (hurch. This is the proper scope of our inquiry. A short survey of the development of religious communities in their rela-tionship to the local or particular church will be good grounding again for further reflection. Our survey will be limited to a few facts arising in the history of the Western Church. The birth and expansion of the monastic movement from the sixth into the ninth century can be described in a somewhat unusual way: the au-tonomous monasteries that sprang up first in Italy, and then on the con-tinent of Europe, also in the British Isles, had much of the characteristics of a local church. The monasteries were cities of God, distinguished from the cities of man. The brethren gathered around the Abbot to offer their praise and thanksgiving to God.~° In some places, the bishop exercised a certain amount of power over them. In other places, due oftrn to distance, the monks lived and died Within their own monastery, with no interference from any ecclesial au-thority. By the eighth century however, the weakness of being alorie and not being in communication with a broader ~egment of the Church became manifest. Signs of decline and decay were setting in. The eighth century that witnessed the movement of Cluny also saw an increasing awareness of the need forgreater unity am?ng religious com-munities. Monasteries of different places, provinces, regions and countries placed themselves under the power of the Abbot of Cluny. Such close unity clearly constituted a new relationship to both the particular and universal Church. In fact, without the help of the church of Rome, that is the pope, they could not have achieved what they did. With Cluny, an organizational breakthrough had been made. In the eleventh century, the movement of Citeaux brought about again a new type of union of monasteries built more on a bond of love than on any legal structure. In the thirteenth century, Francis and Dominic were certainly dedicated servants of local churches, but soon they moved beyond this: they em-o braced the whole of Christendom. They brought their own new approach toward serving both the local and the universal Church. They had a strongly developed sense of universality, without, however, turning their backs on local needs. ~ ~ The sixteer~th century is the time when new continents opened up. Discoverers and colonizers set out to conquer new lands. That is the time of the foundation of the Society of Jesus. The Jesuits seemingly had no allegiance to any local church. They were devoted to the pope. But further examination shows that while they set out on their apostolic journeys, often 1574 / Review for Religious, Volume 36~ 1977/5 sent by the pope himself, for the sake of the universal Church, once they arrived, they went to extraordinary lengths to build and to uphold local churches in India, in Japan, in South America. Paradoxically, they left thei,r native churches to become all to the natives in faraway places.~z The nineteenth and the twentieth centuries bring a new development. There are many apostolic foundaiions; some more for the sake of the universal Church, some definitely for the sake ofparticular churches. Both trends are represented: to serve the universal Church, and to work for the welfare of local churches. Here our historical survey ends and our reflections begin. The ecclesial Character of religious communities; or, hdw are they related to the Church? Our .aim here is to articulate with some clarity an understanding of the obvious fact of history that religious communities exist in the Church and they are in the service of our Christian people. 1. The birth, the development, the existence and the work of religious communities is nothing else than a particular manifestation of the life of the Church.~3 A religious com,rnunity, independently .from the ~:hurch, has no life. When a community prospers, it is growing in the life that was given to the Church. This statement should be stressed today ~ince some religious comn~unities have become soinvolved in reflecting on their own life that they hhve lost sight of the source of their life. They work within a- narrow horizon, and never find what they are seeking so anxiously. Also, once we understand the fact that there is no life in religious communities except what comes from the Church, it is easier to understand the history of those communities which once prospered spiritually but later grew old arid died. There is not necessarily any shame~in that. Human persons too. are born, develop, prosper, grow old and die. God may well call a community into existence to provide for the needs of the times; he may well call another one for new needs. We are not privy to his designs. We should give praise for the vocation we have and should not covet what we do not have. Those who are ~nxiously asking whether or not religious life will survive lock themselves in(o the limits of a wrong question. The right question is: is there an abundance of life in the Church? If so, that life. will manifest itself in new ways that we cannot foresee. There will be always foolish persons around, such as were Francis of Assisi, Ignatius of Loyola, Teresa of Avila, to surprise us, to shock us, and to entice us to follow them. If we put our hope. where it naturally belongs, that is, in the Church, our anxieties may well disappear.~4 ~ 2. A religious community may have many goals, all of them good and right. But there is a built-in purpose in .every community that seeks and obtains approval from the Church. They. publicly proclaim that the words of life are with the visible Church. They want to be publicly recognized by the Church, they want to have their way of life authenticated as good enough to follow Christ. A Theology of the Local Church and Religious Life / 675 The legal formalities of obtaining approval for a new religious com-munity have a deep theological significance. As often happens in the Church, the beauty is all within. A community asks for public incorporation into the strtictures of the Church. Such a quest is the fruit of an act of faith in the wisdom and the power of the Church. When such incorporation is granted, behind the test of the document there is a quiet recognition that the Church has seen grace operating in the community. It is an approval of the way of life of the group, of their service to thee community. The foundation. for the understanding of government and obedience in religious commu-nities is their ecclesial character. The Church gives them a public mandate. When they accept it, they obey the call to service.1'~ 3. Ye~, the mandate from the Church does not make all the ]zommunities the same. Each retains its own particular character and personality. Each is called to serve both the universal and local church in different ways. There are and there will be communities Who have their origin and the scope of their life within a local or particular church. There they were born, there they live, work and die. We all know such groups. Their gift is precious beyond telling.In Lesotho, who can serve the local church better than a congregation of native sisters? There are communities whose organization may spread throughout the ~niversal Church. Members are easily transferred from one place to an-other, according to need. Their vocation is to blend the universal mission with service in one place. The Franciscanor Dominican friars or the Jesuits would be typical examples of'suchcommunities. But let us recall that when a Eurbpean is sent to Japan, and takes up some apostolic work there, his mandate is to affirm and uphold through every available means the church of Japan. Missionary adaptation or "incuituration" is really an effort.to-ward building the local church. No matter how universal the vocation of a commu,nity is, eventually service must be given at a place that is the local or particular church. The duty of the Church to uphold religious communi.tiey; or, how can religious communities be "affirmed by the Church? The Church affirms a religious community through the act of public approval. But that is just the beginning. The initial act should be followed by unceasing help and encouragement to promote the integration of reli-gious into the life of the Church, both universal and particular. Respect for the ,way of life of each group should be the fundamental rule that governs the attitude of the Holy See or of the diocesan bishop. There is no single rule to say how this respect should go. , In the case of a contemplative monastery, respect may ~nean the ap-preciation of the prayers~offered by those monks and nuns, of the sacrifice of their lives. In the case of an apostolic community, the situation is dif-ferent; they are taking part in the practical work of evangelization. The 676 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 Church mandates them to preach, and to perform deeds of charity. They should be given an opportunity to share their experience with others. I.n the diocese, they should=be taken into the planning, even into the decision-making, process. Indeed, there is an ancient tradition to invite abbots of independent monasteries and, a newer practice, to invite superiors general of exempt religious, orders, to an ecumenical council. To have religious present at synods, held either on regional or diocesan levels, would be not only fair and just, bfit it would be according to our traditions, too. Such can be the affirmation of religious life in practice. At this point it is interesting to note that the development from synods to episcopal con-ferences is somewhat a departure from the old tradition of the Church. Surely, the episcopal body has a unique position in the universal Church, and the residential bishop is in charge of his diocese. But the bishop needs the religious to carry out well their own mandate received through their consecration. I~t is, necessary for them to be in steady contact with religious who carry so much of the burden of daily work in the Church and the churches. If reiigious share the pastoral work of the bishops, they should also have some part in planning and evaluating the same work.~ Third Question: What Is the Relationship Between the Particular Church and Rer, ligious Communities, and How Should This Relationship Develop? The relationship between a particular church and religious communities is a dynamic living relationship that must be created anew all the time. Legal norms cannot do more than give a framework that is always in, adequate .to generate life, but good enough to protect life that comes from deeper sources. Legal norms by their very nature are abstract, impersonal, and general. They are meant for typical cases irrespective of the persons inv61ved, and of their historical circumstances. But in real life there are only concrete situations and living persons and communities. The relationship depends on the personality of the bishop on the one side, of the religious community on the other side. They must work out their relationship concerning particular issues,lr Perhaps this.relationship is best described through analogies. The ob~,ious analogy of call and response can be used. The bishop calls on the religious community and asks for help to build the Church, to announce the good news, to do the good deeds of charity. When the re-ligious hear this call they must respond out of their own resources. The response of an enclosed community may well be in offering prayers for the needs of the diocese; the response of a group of Dominican friffrs may well be in preaching in' the diocese. The religious too, may call 'on the local church for help and encouragement; they may well need it. A Theology of the Local Church and Religious Life / 677 They may play another role in the diocese. They may call people to a better service of the Lord. They can act as the conscience of the com-munity. Their independence and freedom allows them to do so, provided they can do so without presumption.18 The analogy of the body can be recalled also. The religious community must find its own identity in the body of the church, before it can function properly. The community is a member of the local church, with its own structure and role. It would not be in the interest of the local church to weaken a member group. On the contrary, it must promote their welfare, It must respect theii- identity, must use them properly for the purpose they have been created.19 Such relationship cannot be regulated 'by the rules of justice only, Justice gives birth to rights that must be respected, and certainly should not be bypassed and neglected: Nonetheless, a living dynamic relationship cannot be created if both sides stand on their rights. Such an attitude would lead to a dead end where all the participants become captive to their own rigidity and: dedication to strict justice:2° ~ Good relationships between the local church and religious living and working in it must be created'continuously by both sides. There is no other way of creating it than by charity thiat means to give. Neither side should ask first what is due to them, but rather what is 'it that they can give to-the other. Only then will there be a new spirit that builds the church instead of destroying it; a new spirit that brings unity to the whole body instead 6f fraffmenting it. ~ Conclusion As we reach our conclusion we may well experience contradictory feelings. On the~one side, we experience frustration. After ali we did not succeed in finding precise rules and fixed principles tO determine ihe relationship of the local church and religious communities. We found only changing ,and shifting patterns and the need to create relationships where they do not exist according to our expectations. On the other side we experience contentrhent because we are guided by the Spirit of God and the intelligence of believers rakher than by rigid rules. After all, the Lord himself did not give many detailed instructions to his disciples. He gave them his Spirit to guide them in all. With the help of the Spirit they have built the Church. They were guided more by a person than by words. Our hope, too, is in a person, in the same Spirit of Christ. He is with us, in the local church and in the religious communities. Yet, our hope is also in the dedication and intelligence of Christian people on both sides, in the local church and in religious communities. They; together, can create their relationship anew. 678 / ReOiew for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 By dOing it, they will experiencethe joy of the Incarnation; they will share theagony of the Cross. Yet, throughout it all, they will 'be blessed and will know a contentment that is in a small way the anticipation of the gift of the Resurrection. Notes I. Parvus error in principio magnus est in fine in "De ente et essentia," begin~ning. ~ 2. Such understanding is the fruit of both contemplation and rational reflection. We must first accept the mystery through faith and then seek the understanding of it. 3. We do not intend to down-play the importance of a diocese. It is a natural unit in the church, ,sacramentally and organizationally. Nonethe-less, the life of a given diocese ordinarily does not differ significantly, if at all, from the life of neighb.oring dioceses. But, often enough,.a group of dioceses displays significant differences from the way another group .lives. The local churches of Holland form a unity that is quite distinct under many aspects from the d!oceses of Germany. Organizationally, the division of the universal Church into dioceses is of permanent importance; but, histori-cally, the larger units have played a more importapt role. The term "par, ticul,ar" is used in our text loosely; its meaning is to be determined from the context. At times, it refers to a diocese. More often it refers to a larger unit: to several dioceses grouped together, displaying a common understanding of the mysteries, using similar rites in worship, cooperating closely in apostolic work. 4. The theological principle cannot be stressed enough. We do not begin with a definition; we begin with the contemplation of an event in the history of the Church. We seek to reach some understanding through the con-templative perception of the mystery. Therefore, our vision will never be so complete as apparentlya definition is. Even if we are able to reach a good understanding, it remains incomplete and leaves plenty of possibility for further pr.ogress. 5. As succeeding generations of Christians may focus on different as'- pects of the same mystery, and give practical emphasis to their vision, in a similar way, churches existing in the same historical period may build up differing~understandings of the same mystery, and order their practices acc.ordingly, not in the sense of Contradicting each other, but rather, in the sense 6f completing each other's perception. The same mountain can be looked at. by explorers from the North, and by explorers from the South. Their differing vision of the same mountain is complementary, not contra-dictory. The contemplation of God's mighty deeds in our history, deeds that are certainly permanent, gives rise to perceptions and understandings, that are diStinct and complementary. We see the origin of particular churches in such different perceptions, followed by different practices. A Theology of the Local Church .and Religious Life / 679 6~ At any time of Christian history, a diocese can be called a particular church organizationally. There is one community, with a bishop presiding over it_But beyond any Organization, there is a sacramental unity in the diocese; if the universal Church is a sacrament, so is the diocese. "This Church of Christ is truly present in all legitimate local congregations of the faithful which, united with their pastors, are themselves called,churches in the New Testament" Lumen Gentium, 26. 7." Vatican Council II strongly upheld th6 dignity of, and the right of, the local church.' For instance: "That Church, Holy and Catholic, which is the Mystical Body of Christ, is made up of the faithful .who are organically united i6 the Holy Spirit through the same faith, the same sacraments, and the same government and who, combining into various groups held together by a hierarchy, form separate churches or rites. Between these, there flourishes such an admirable brotherhood that this variety within.the Church in no way harms her unity, but rather manifests it. For it is the mind of the Catholic Church that each individual church or rite retain its traditions whole aiad entire, while adjusting its way of life to the various needs of time and place" Orientalium ecclesiarum, 2. 8. A paradoxical statement; nonetheless it is true; Exempt religious orders mostly used their freedom from local episcopal jurisdiction-to go from,one place to another, either to help the churches most in need, or through missionary activity, to give birth to new churches. Sometimes the privilege of exemption helps specific activities in the service of the universal church, such as, to :sponsor an International School of Theology in Rome or elsewhere. 9.' The strength they give to the local church eventually rebounds to the strength of the whole. 10. To describe the monastic movement in terms o'ffuga mundi, that is flight from the world, only~ is to do injustice to history. Granted that to flee the world was an important motive for people who wanted to join the monastic community, still theii" main motive was to build the city ~of God among the cities of man.°The monastery was as self-contained as the Small cities built on the tops of the hills and mountains of Italy. Yet, there was a difference: praise and thanksgiving were offered, t9 God, day and night. The task of th'e earthly city wasopus hominum, the work of man; the task in the city of.God° was opus Dei, work thai belonged to God. Admittedly, the theme 'of "fleeing the world" is stressed in contemporary monastic lit-erature. But such writings must be contrast+d with documents, such as the Rule of St. Benedict, where the ongoin, g praise of God and his service takes the central place; also, with the fact that the monks did not hesitate to go out into the world "of barbarians in central and northern Europe to bring them the good news of Christ, and to teach them all that they found precious in human culture. A monastery could truly be called a,"local" or "partic-ular" church except, perhaps, for the fact that it was not presided over by 6~!0 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 a bishop. But the monks were dedicated to the service of the universal Church0probably more than they realized. Without understanding their universal orientation, we cannot understand the conversion of Europe. For a wisely controversial book on the rise and fall of religious com-munities, see Vie. et mort des ordres religieux by Raymond Hostie (Paris: Cesclee de Brouwer, 1972). For a classical exposition of the development of religious orders, see From Pachomius to Ignatius by David Knowles (Oxford: Claredon Press, 1966). 11. The Middle Ages, also, saw the foundation of religious orders that were principally devoted to the works of the universal Church. There were orders' to promote the Crusades, or to take part in them; to protect the possession of the Holy Land; to give themselves for the redeeming of the captives, and so forth. 12. Thi~ history ofthe Jesuits shows eloquently that the service of the universal Church can never be separated from the service of particular~ churches, and vice versa. They could not have been more dedicated to the universal Church. They accepted a mandate from the pope, and the pope only. Yet once they established themselves at a given place, they did everything to enter into the culture of the natives. They helped them, in every way that was compatible with Christian faith and the universality of the. Church, to build new churches with strong particular traditions. In China, they devised and fought for specific rites in the vernacular suitable for the Chinese culture and mentality. They attempted to do the .same in India. In South America, they sided with the natives against the con-quistadores, and gave life to local churches within the framework of the so-called "reductions," that is, autonomous Indian settlements leading a strong community life reminiscent, somewhat, of the early church of Je-rusalem. History shows that to serve the tiniversal Church redounds to the good of Particular churches. 13. We like to stress that the life of religious communities is nothing else than a particular manifestation of the life of the Church. There is no such thing as the Church on one side and religious communities on the other, eitherhelping each other inharmony, or being in open conflict. The member is not .separate from the body; all life of the member is the life of the body, Religious life cannot be conceived of as charismatic life independent and separate from the institutional life of the Church. Charisma and structures, although distinct, can no more be separated from each other in the Church than the flesh and blood of a human person can be separated from his bones: The skeleton, ugly and unfriendly as'it is, gives support and proportion to the beauty of the flesh that covers it. Charisma and institutions must work' together. ~ 14. There is no need that is as. great today as the need for purification of our faith in the Church, and the right understanding of what ,kind of A Theology of the Local Church and Religious Life / 681 community Jesus has founded. One conception should be discarded right from the start (in the terms of Karl Rahner, it could be called a "silent heresy"): the Church is a community of holy persons throughout. While it is true that there will always bepersons of extraordinary holiness raised by God among his people, there will always be many in the Church who are sinners, and glorify God by proclaiming his mercy. The Church is a human community, a community of sinners. Yet, because the Spirit of God is faithful to her, she will never lose or corrupt the word of God, provided the proclamation of the word takes place with ~'ull apostolic authority. Human limitations and fragility, however, will always be present and manifest in the Church till the end of time, be it in the hierarchy, be it in the people. To love the Church means to love the community as it is, and above all, to have the internal disposition to give what we can to this community. There is little love in those who continually expect to receive. There is love in those who know how to be compassionate. A religious community is one with the Church if the members are steadily asking themselves what they can give to her so that she can grow in goodness, into a greater likeness to Christ. For a more detailed explanation of these principles, see "How to Be One With the Church Today" in Blessed Are Those Who Have Questions, by Ladislas Orsy (Denville, N. J.: Dimension Books, 1976). Perhaps the best and most rewarding way of acquiring the right theo-logical understanding of the Church is to read and study its history. The real Church, suppprted by the Spirit, is there in its beauty and fragility. A merely conceptual and systematic approach may lead the unwary to a dream--beautiful and unreal. Once a person surrenders to,the dream, he will be frustrated by the harsh and true reality, that is, by the Church as it exists. 15. Indeed, the roots of a theology of obedience in religious life are there in the mandate that the community receives from the Church. There is a sacramental character to such a mandate, since the Church itself is a sacrament. (The seven signs are particular manifestations of the life of the Church.) Obedience to such a.great mandate should not be confused with ob~eying ordinary human rules and regulations that are part and parcel of the life of every community, religious or not. Through the v6w of Obedience, a person gives himself or herself explicitly, visibly, to the Church~ It is the sacrifice of legitimate freedom to accept a mission from the Church in which, behind human~structures, the Spirit of God lives. 16. There are few countries where the health and progress of the Church depend so much on education as in the United States. Much of this ~ork is sponsored, directed, or done by' religious men and women. Yet, when the most important policy-making body for the pastoral life of the Church meets, that is, when the episcopal conference deliberates, or de-cides, religious are absent and are given only a very limited opportunity to Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 contribute before, during, or after the meeting--a lack of balance, and the Church is poorer for it. °17. It is interesting to note that, with all the ingenuity of canon lawyers at .her disposal, the Church never succeeded in working out clear and entirely satisfactory norms to regulate the relationship between the local ordinary anti,religious communities of pontifical right, or those enjoying the privilege of exemption. Why? Because it is easy to state some theological principles such as: the bishop is the supervisor of~all apostolic works in the diocese; or, religious must be free to i'egulate their internal affairs, and to carry out their apostolate according to their constitutions. But, it is difficult t0 make detailed norms applicable everywhere. Nor will the new proposed legislation overcome this problem. If anything, history proves the insuf-ficiency of strict legal solutions. 18. A religious community of international dimensions can do much to bring a local church out of its own isolation, and to make it aware of the universal Church. The very presence of the members of~a community that works world-wide for the Church is a reminder ~to the faithful that they too belong to a community over which the sun never sets. 19. This implies respect for the particular charism of an institute. The local church should not try to use the religious for work contrary, or alien, to their own calling. 20. While it isright to work for justice, we should never lose sight of the ¯ fact that justice is the minimum of charity. Justice can proclaim what is due to each person and group and does establish a balance in the life of a human community. Yet the stability of an organization built on justice only remains precarious.To achieve contentment and happiness, it is necessary to ttave charity all around. By charity, we do not mean charitable handouts, but strong love that consists in giving, not only advice or things, but ourselves. A society in which each vindicates his or her own fights is built on a shaky foundation. A society in which each one is intent on giving what he has to others, is like a house built on a rock. This is obviously true of the Church, but it is equally applicable to any secular society. The great national'heroes of the past were those who were able to give to others, not counting much what they were giving. From what we just said, rio one should conclude that ttie cause of justice is not urgent, and that we should not work for it. Quite simply, as Christians, we must say that justice, in itself, i.s not_enough. The strength and perfection of love is a vital need for every human being and every"human society. The great idea of balance and welfare through the virtue of justice ought to be completedby the foolishness of love that God revealed through his Son. See the Conclusion in Morale Internationale, by Rene Coste (Paris: Desclee, 1964). For general orientation about the great problems of the world, and for spiritual recreation, all at once, see Return to the Center, by Bede Griffiths (Springfield, IL: Templegate, 1977). From the Center will those actions flow that bring love, peace, and justice to all men. Prayer: Adventure Into the Unknown Cecile Godreau, M.M. Sister Cecile worked for eighteen years in Bolivia where she was active in spiritual direciio~ for young religious. Presently she resides with the M.aryknoll Sisters; Maryknoll, NY 10545. Today there is a thrill at the very thought of the unkno~,n. Is there life on Mars, on Jupiter, or on the planets around other suns? If there is life, is it more advanced or more perfect than the life forms we know? What about our own planet? Are there life forms we have not yet explored? What about ¯ those areas on earth where men have never or rarely ventured?.What secrets do they hold? There was a time when the knowledge of the unknown would have inspired us to build protective areas, or at least, to introduce taboos for safety's,sake. Today we want, and are drawn to venture into, the heart Of the unknown. I would suggest to anyone with a bit of explorer's blood, and ~,h~ has a heart desirous of giving beyond what is often a dull, everyday existence (called life), to join me in a consideration of a great adventure. This ad-venture is so unique and so intensely personal that it is different for each -one. It is so thrilling that the one who goes on this journey will need an eternity to finish it to discoger its source. I mean prayer, God's version of p~ayer, called spiritual life by some, mysticism or i:ontemplation.by others. I call it adventure: God calls: maybe, he proffers a mind-blowing call, the kind of call that, as in the life of St. Paul, knocks us down when we are riding high. Maybe it is a call as quiet as an evening calm. Or, maybe it is a call after a powerful experience in a Common pCayer situation because of, or with, an unusually charismatic person's approach to our weak defenses. Again, maybe it is merely the movings quietly within that crumble all our preconceived plans and leave 683 684 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 us stunned by silence, or the slow and burning love that somehow separates us from our past. It is impossible to mention every situation, for from the time of this very conversion, it is different for each. God knows how best to invite us into the great adventure. Once we have been converted, we are left to find our way into God's country. Like the prophet Elijah, we realize that God is not in the con-version, not in the earthquake or thunder, but in the whispered breeze. Even trees, whose job it is to let us know when a breeze is near, are often u~nmoved by the gentleness of a tiny breeze. But we are made with hearts attunedif we will but go into our hearts to see and hear what is taking place therein. Some stop here. It is difficult to go within. Our culture has worshipped the extraverted, the active, the expressed word. Our people are expected to tell the world how they feel about everything. So it is almost impossible to have a silent center within us. We are not accustomed to going deep within where God is waiting for us. We are afraid to find out how it is to meet God in our'hearts. We are afraid to discover life within because someone may think we are not socially-minded. People may think we are not committed. "Alone in our hearts where God resides" has a scary sound to it, or, perhaps, even neurotic. What is God doing inside when we have been shouting to him from afar? Some break through and come to the God within. For them, He is Father, or Jesus, or maybe an inner awareness or "presence." Here we are bound to kneel in silence. Even our vocal prayer and meditations come to a halt. As the silence deepens, we wonder if it is right to be here. And we need help so often to just sit and enjoy what it is to be with God. Here we need often to be assured like children. We are moved to love so deeply, we may think we are a little "different." We search for others to understand. Often there are few around who dare to talk about this. We are alone and happy, deliriously in love, or quietly secure. Our God is like a mother nursing its child, a child being embraced by a loving mother, or held like an infant to a father's cheek. As we settle down like Peter to build tents for our experience, Jesus reminds us it is time to go back down to the bustle of the city. Our first reaction to move on is, "I thought this was it!" We balk at being born, and we refuse to leave this hallowed place. So God "puts out the lights" so to speak. Here many get discouraged. Yes, they lose heart. Why? Because all was so comfortable. Here people try to find other loves and ways. They are frightened because they think they have lost their faith. "Faith," of course, is the name mistakenly put on the experience of God within. Faith,-in fact, is the stepping out into the darkness that God directs us toward. We "explore" Faith by putting our hand into the hand of the resurrected Jesus to go out and discover what it is to be Jesus, Son of God. We are going to have to molt our skins of the intense joy and the security Prayer: Adventure Into the Unknown / 685 that we had, and we realize that we are vulnerable. To put our hand into the hand of Jesus is not a journey deeper within. It is a journey beyond our human limitations. Here Jesus who directs our adventure gives us self-knowledge. We might get discouraged and have the feeling of one who has climbed too far, too fast. We are aware of our smallness. Yet, Jesus who helps us on our journey is intent on leading u~ onward. When we reach the place he means us to explore, he does a very strange thing. He lets us see our world through his eyes. We might find ourselves somehow knowing what Jesus means in his gospel. Somehow, we tread through life as Jesus did. We, little by little, begin to know ~vhat it meant for Jesus to have been driven by the Spirit. Now we no longer seem drawn within. Our eyes are cast out onto our world! How terribly important each person we meet becomes! We are not sure we are loving others as our-selves, or as Jesus, because we are somehow filled with a compassion beyond our own. We are almost sure our small selves are being used by Jesus. Yet, all along the way, we are aware of the difference. Our real selves come to light. We find fewer and fewer excuses for ourselves, and we are driven deeper into our faith. For some this step is done very quietly, almost imperceptibly. Some cry, "I no longer know if it is me or Christ living in me," while others go deeper into faith, knowing only that they must go on seeking a water to quench the thirst of "Everyman." Here each one is given something of Jesus to use for Others. Little by little, the awareness of self is lost in the dream of bringing solace to others. 'Here we lose touch with our world because it claims to do what we, in fact, are made ~over~ tiy Jesus to really accomplish. We talk a different language, and our agony is this language. We no longer speak as men do who have tongues in cheek. Our new simplicity makes us a target for the clever and the powerful. Yet we seem to be drawn to quietly go on. our wills and intellects, no longer bound up in our feelings, are sharper. We are able to see our. way better than before, and our way takes us, like/Jesus, into the Father's will. We delight in our brothers, whether large, smzll, sinful or ~,irtuous. We ar~ at last able to see the God hidden in each. We know what it is to be Jesus. We begin to desire with all our strength to build a temple to our new-found religion. Jesus will be our Master, and we will do our worshipping strongly for a new world. We will be the Jesus of this world. It seems we have arrived, and yet--yet, God has just brought us to a new faith. It is as though all the experiences we have had were pu! in a vast sea, and we were set afloat in the tiny boat of our new faith. No longer do we feel the strength of God, nor see the glory of Jesus. We are asked to ride a stormy sea in a skiff. There is only one thing to do: trust. We are terrified by our nothingness, as we are compared, not with men, but with God. This death experience is the most terrible and the most beautiful experience of our lives~this realization of what we are without 686 ,/ Review for Religious, VOlume 36, 1977/5 him. The deep peace that has seen us through that dark and light of our lives is a must now, and we hope it is real in this stage of our adventure. Here, too, each person is different, and comes to this at different times. Once we have opted for death, we are given a faith that we never thought possible: No longer a faith held up by our deepest feelings, nor one seeing the progress of Jesus in our lives, but the faith that believes because one holds on to God beyond any reason. We go into the darkness to be pulled out now not trusting ourselves, our "faith," our ways, even our religiosity. We are pulled out swinging from a thread like a string puppet. We go from anger, to despair, to surrender. Surrender, which once sounded so terrifying, is the beginning of life. A dark faith is given us. No longer do we explain, or sing to it, orhold it as a precious keep-sake, for we realize.it is simply gift. We are now ready to walk back with a song to our native home. Nothing can really make us fear again. Our wordless love is for God, the Great Unknown. God, who lias been badlyexplained over and over by ourselves and others, takes us into himself. It is as though welook for our small boat, only to see it has disappeared. We are at the beginning of an intense desire. Longing and homesickness set in to show us how intense ourodesire is for God. Yet, he turns us back to live again among his people. He gives us each a seed to nurture, and when grown, to share the fruits with others. Some are so overwhelmed by this that they fall into silent prayer, agonized with the weight of their message. Others are filled with speech, a babbling speech, yet a speech that can be recognized as a song of God. One can open one's eyes and God has grown unlimited. We hasten to meet him, only to find that at this point, he spreads out in all directions. One is surrounded by God, silence, and it will take an eternity to begin to explore, to begin our adventure into this great unknown. How much we desire to begin to go towards our deepest love, and at least arrive at the first steps toward an eternity of ~urprises, peace, and our Source. We are willing to live a thousand years, if that be what he desires. We ~ealize that creation needs our new song which we, like God's trou-badours, will sing, with hearts somehow free and waiting, in this new-found peace, his last call. An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice Max Oliva, S.J. Father Oliva is the Director of Social Ministries for the California Province of the Society of Jesus. His special interests are the theology and spirituality of Social justice. He conducts workshops on these two themes as well as on. other aspects of social justice. He is also Associate Director of Field Education at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley. He ~resides at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Introduction We hear a lot of discussion today about the need to promote justice in economic, social and political structures. It takes only a cursory reading of the Bishops' Synod Statement, "Justice°in the World," tofind the Church issuing this call: Listenihg to the cry of those who suffer violence and are oppressed by unjust systems and structures, and hearing the appeal of a world that by its perversity contradicts the plan of its Creator, we have shared our awareness of the Church's vocation to be present in the heart of the world by proclaiming the Good News to the poor; freedom to the oppressed, and joy to the afflicted) How does one pursue social justice in the light of one's faith? How do we in.corporate and integrate the important ingredients of our own need for personal contact with marginated and oppressed people and the ongoing process of conversion that each of us must undergO? Row do we bring about a balance between our faith and our practical efforts for changing structures? This article offers some reflections on an apostoli~ spirituality for changing social structures, a ministry which can be a part of anyone's life and ministerial vision. The thoughts expressed here are the result of the tSynod of Bishops, 1971, "Justice in the World," page 1. 687 61111 / Reviewfor Religious, Volume 36, 1,977/5 author's reflection on his own ministry, both in inner-city Black commu-nities and in efforts to change social structures,z What do we mean when we talk about changing social structures? The most obvious example of structural change that comes to mind is the effect that a state or federal law can have on a whole range of institutions and the people in them. Take, for example, the Equal Employment Opportunity Act, which has had the effect of requiring businesses to hire minority and women workers, in responsible positions, or lose federal contracts or be taken to court in civil action suits. The ordinary citizen's role in promoting such a law might have been to draw attention to the injustices present before the law was passed by some kind of advocacy effort. Another example of structural change, again in the world of business: ~in the 1960's, many companies had as one of the standard questions on their applications forms, "Have you ever been arrested?" To the person ap-plying for work from an economically depressed area, this question was an automatic "No" to a possible job since many had been arrested. However, relatively few people had ever been convicted. Successful efforts were made to convince companies to change the word, "arrested," to, "con- .victed," thus opening the job market to a large segment of the community who had up to then been ex.cluded. Closer to home, changing structures m~ght involve affecting admission policies in a religious school so that more min.ority students might be able to attend, or, influencing a province so that an essential criteria for being a superior would be that she or he is strongly committed to justice. In both of these cases, an individual's action can have results that change the structures involved and thereby affect many people in the process. Basically, structures, systems and institutions of society are the frame-work in which human relationships--personal, political, economic, cultur-al~ take place. Social justice seeks to assess the worth of social structures and systems in view of how they impact the lives of people in them, or exclude people from them, and calls for personal responsibility for these structures. There are many ways to influence social structures, be it through actions to promote just state or national laws, be it efforts to affect international systems, or by way of altering a policy in one's own institution or com-munity. Whatever the means chosen, certain basic dispositions are neces-sary for such efforts to be realistic and, thus, effective. The first and pri-mary disposition is to be on the side of the economically po, or and politically powerless, as an advocate for their rights. In St. Matthew's gospel (15:29-31), we find Jesus sitting on a moun-tainside. There, "large crowds of people came to him bringing with them ~'i'he author is also indebted to Workshop participants who have given valuable feedback to the ideas expressed in this article. A Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice / 689 cripples, the deformed, the blind, the mute, and many others besides. They laid them at his feet and hecured them." What is particularly striking about this scene is not so much the cures, though, of course, these are marvelous signs of God's presence, but that Jesus actually, physically, touched these people: the crippled, the deformed, the blind, the mute--the marginated and outcasts of his time. Today, we, because we are Christians, are called to do the same, to touch the poor and oppressed of our day, those who are often different, from us by economic background, by color or culture, by education, perhaps by some kind of physical or mental handicap. To touch these, people means to have some ongoing personal contact with them, in order tolearn from them--their needs, their suffering, their aspirations, and their richness. To touch these people involves, paradoxically, a healing in ourselves, a deliverance from our prejudices, convictions, and attitudes, an escape from apathy, and an awareness that has deep within it a sense of urgency that justice be done. Such personal contact insures that our com-mitment be an "affair of the heart." Such contact is essential if our ministry of changing unjust .social structures is to be realistic, that is, meeting real needs. This ongoing personal interchange with oppressed people and an alert analysis of the structure we wish to change are basic dispositions for a ministry of changing social structures, be our work in schools, hospitals, a parish, retreat house, mass media, social ministry, or whatever,z Some Basic Principles The cycle of poverty is often described as consisting of: apathy--aliena; tion frustration--ignorance--hunger---despair. These words can also be used to describe our own state of mind and heart as we contemplate unjust arid dehumanizing structures. The problems seem so vast, the structures so complex, that we simply despair of moving at all to influence or try to change them. We need to begin our consideration of an apostolic spirituality for social justice ministry by taking a close look at some basic principles: 1. That each of us can be part of the change process for a more just world: by our choices, by our life-style, by our life-stance. No issue is so ambig-uous, no structure so complicated that we are unable to do something to influence it. ,~ 2. That other people--those we live with, those we work with, our stu- 3Personal contact with oppressed people, is also necessary for one-on-one kinds of service, such as spiritual direction, for the purpose of such ministry is to help the person clarify and deepen his relationship with God and challenge, when appropriate, the way the person lives out this faith in relation to the world. The director can be an excellent resource for helping the person being directed to see the intimate connection between faith and social justice and to discover ways she or he might effectively act to change unjust social structures. It is only by realizing this connection in his own life that the director will effectively communicate this message to the one being directed. 690 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 dents, parishioners, retreatants, fellow workers--can be reached and can change in their attitudes, in their values/in their standard and st.yle of life. Why? Because, like us, they are of good will. True, like us, they suffer from ignorance about those who are poor, are often insulated from those who are economically poor and politically powerless, and sometimes accept myths about the poor as truths. Still, they do not deliberately will the destruction and dehumanization of others any more than we do. They, too, seek hap-piness, peace and justice. And, like us, they sometimes get too caught up in self-interest or ignore the social dimensions of their actions. But if we can change, can become more socially conscious, more committed to justice, so can others. 3. That because of God's personal love for each of us, we are each im-portant in the process of building the kingdom of God, a kingdom initiated by Christ and commissioned to us, his followers, to carry on and build, a kingdom which fosters human dignity and equality, and which values hu-man-. development. , 4. That the Spirit is working in and through each of us even as we take small steps to change structures, and can work in ever new ways as we become more resolutely inserted into the world of the marginated and the oppressed. ~. 5. That other people---other religious women and men, diocesan priests, laypeople, Christians of.every denomination, and non-Christians too-are at work, acting for peace and justice, realigning their life styles, taking a critical stance toward the structures of society. This gives us hope. The Center of Our Commitment We are called to this ministry of changing unjust social structures by Jesus Christ, who works with us and whose Spirit is the source of our courage, wisdom, power and hope. God the Father is the center of our lives, the focal point of our identity: his personal love isthe basis of our worth.4 He is our Rock, our Foundation, our Beginning and our End. He is the One for whose sake ultimately we are engaged in the struggle for justice. ~ The more God is our center, the less chance do the idols that attract us and keep us from a commitment to justice hamper our ministry, idols such as popularity, "success," reputation, endless analysis, and the '.;good life." The more God is our center, the more effective will be our ministry of justice, for it will become ever more clearly his work. Because God is the center of our lives, we can develop the kind of apostolic qualities that are necessary for an effective ministry of justice. ~The author realizes that not all people relate to God, as Father,. as the center of their lives. This is the way the author relates to Gbd. To respect this difference, the word "Father" will only be used this once in the article. A SpiritutJlity for the Ministry of Social Justice Let us now consider some apostolic qualities that can help render our actions more fruitful. Apostolic Qualities for Our Ministry of Justice Because God is the center of our lives, we can be radically open: open to growth--intrapersonal, interpersonal and societal (our relationship to human.environments, structures, institutions and processes, especially of asocio-economic-polifico-cultural character). Open to new ~concepts and ideas, such as social sin and social grace, Liberation Theology and the use of Marxist tools of analysis for studying the structures in our socie[y. Open to face uncertainty and fear as we come into personal contact with the marginated and the oppressed people in our society and the environments in which they are forced to live. Open to face our own prejudice, racism and sexism as, they are manifested in attitude and language. Open to face our value addictions as they are reflected in our consumption patterns--the kinds of things we buy and.~why--and in our life style. Open to the pos-sibility of being misunderstood, even rejected, by those ~ith v~hom we speak about issues of justice, be they members of our family, our com-munity, or our constituents. Because God is the center of our lives, we can ~have a capacity for critical reflection such that no ideology, no system or way of life is "sa-cred" (or defines who we are). None can be free of scrutiny, challenge and, if needed, reform, be it: socialism, communism, capitalism, the American way of life and its values, the Church, our own community or the work of our apostolate, Because God is the center of our lives, we are not afraid to face the fact that we are converts to our ideas of justice and the actions we undertake for justice. Thus, we are capable of being ruthlessly honest with ourselves, neither becoming self-righteous nor bitter or cynical. Being honest in this way enables us to have what Thomas Cullinan calls "patient endurance,''~ a uniquely, Christian virtue, which is centered on Christian hope, without losing a sense of urgency that justice be done. Because God is the center of +ur lives, the focus in exercising our ministry of justice is not on "success" as we usually define it. Our success is in the doing or saying what we know we must say to be true to our convictions and the needs of oppressed people. Like the prophets, the doing or not of some word, some action, is not based on peoples' reac- 5Thomas Cullinan, O.S.B,, If the Eye Be Sound (England: St. Paul Publications, 1975), page 121, This is an excellent work of modern spirituality. In particular it uncovers the theological and spiritual foundations on which a socially committed Christianity must be built. Dom Tfiomas Cullihan, O.S.B., is a monk of the Ampleforth community, in England, and a member ¯ of the Commission for International Justice and Peace of England and Wales. Available: Catliolic Institute for International Relations; I Cambridge Terrace; London, NW I, England. 692 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 tions--be they affirmative or negative--not on how many people like us more or not, not on how many people ag~'ee with us more or not, but on being congruent with who we are before God, as we discern it in prayer and consultation. It is the virtue of integrity. Because God is the center of our lives, we can ~possess an habitual facility of discernment. In our ministry of social justice, there are two basic areas of input for our process of discernment. (1) The first element of our input is grasping the "signs of the times," that is, the cries of the poor and the oppressed of our world, their struggles,, their needs, their aspirations, their problems and the causes of these problems. Such knowledge and, more importantly, unders~tanding comes, as we said before, primarily by way'of some ongoing personal contact with economically poor people and those who are politically powerless and is supplemented by books and articles, films, workshops, or whatever means serves to increase our con-sciousness of the problems. Then each of us must lobk closely at her Or his talents, gifts, personality, ministerial strengths and weaknesses, and the kind of ministry she or he is involved in. In a spirit of prayer and with ~:onsultation, then, the discernment-reflection process gradually, organi-cally, and continually enables eiach of us to make action-choices for justice from where we are. For some, such action will involve integrating, social justice into classes taught or into the administration of a school or a hos-pital; for others, it will mean some kind bf political action or public protest. For some, it will mean homilies or retreat talks that show the intimate relationship between one's ~faith and a commitment to act for justice; for still others, it will involve direct service in an inner-city or rural, community or Third World country. Because God is the center of ou~ lives, we can ask him to fashion in us a heart for the oppressor as well as for the,oppressed. Injustice kills the perpetrator since exploitation, tyranny and oppression are sighs of death, spiritual death. We love the oppressor when we oppose with all our strength her or his spiritually suicidal behavior of oppression. With God's help we can enter every heart. For the po. or, we strive to win rights and the freedom to develop humanly; for the rich, we strive to win moral development. It is important to note, though, that the way in which one manifests one's concern for the oppressor will differ according to the kind of ministry one is involved in. The community organizer's way, for example, will be dif-ferent from the high school teacher's. Each develops a heart for the op-pressor in the context of her or his own situation. Because God is the center of our lives, we can have empathy with those who are economically and politically oppressed. Empathy is the'ability'to see life through the eyes of others. In our ministry of social justice it is seeing life through the eyes of the poor. It demands personal contact with people who are poor. It necessitates our taking a "learning stance" in the presence of oppressed people, listening to their needs, their suffering, being A Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice / 693 willing to be continu'ally educated by their life experiences and their contact with human misery. Empathy is the key to understanding and thus to be able to demythologize our views on why people 'are poor. Finally, empathy is the way to true solidarity and effective advocacy. Because God is the center of our lives, we can have a freedom from attachment---in the face of anything which is not in line with our primary goal: the will of God and the building of his kingdom, a kingdom which values and promotes human dignity, equality and development. Having our foundation in God allows us to be free from attachment to. any cause or issue, any insight or pre-conceived plan of action, any request, for action, or even our own fear of acting. It is the "single-heartedness" of the Be-atitudes. Finally, because God is the center of our lives, we can have a capacity for suffering--what Jos6 Magafia says in his book Ignatian Exercises: A Strategy for Liberation, "to rejoice in sufferings because they are the hallmark of every ,genuine liberating commitment.''6 Such a capacity en-ables us to make the fundamental Christian option of becoming advocates for the rights of oppressed people. It is also, obviously, intimately bound up with the preceding eight apostolic qualities and with the effort it takes to keep God as one's center. A capacity for suffering is essential for each person~s ongoing process of conversion, and we are all called to conversion: "It is too easy to throw back on others responsibility for injustices, if at,the same time one does not realize how each one shares in it personally, and how personal conversion is needed first.''r Just what is conversion ? One of the clearest descriptions the author has read is the following from Fr. Pedro Arrupe, S.J, Conversion is getting rid of something so that something else can take its place. It is getting rid of everything that prevents us from being filled with the Holy Spirit. Conversion, then, is a change; a change tfiat takes place deep inside us; a radical change. Let us make no mistake about it: there is nothing supdrficial about conver-sion. It is not, for'instance, deciding, after a somewhat more fervent retreat, to "give something to the poor," or to be a little more generous to one's "favorite charity." This is a praiseworthy thing in its way, but it is not conversion. Conversion is not a giving of something that we can well afford to lose. It goes much deeper than that. It is a putting away of something that we are: our old self, with its all-too-human, all-too-worldly prejudices, convictions, attitudes, values, ways of thinking and acting; habits which have become so much a part of us that it is agon.y even to think of parting with them, and yet which are precisely what prevent us from rightly interpreting the signs of the times, from seeing life steadily and seeing it whole.8 ~Jos6 Magafia, S.J., Ignatian Exercises: A Strategy for Liberation (New York: Exposition Press, Inc., 1974), page 117. rPope Paul VI, 1971, "A Call to Action," page 28. 8Pedro Arrupe, S.J., "Witnessing to Justice" (Vatican City: Pontifical Commission Justice and Peace, 1972), pages 25-26. 694 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 Our call to conversion as we pursue our ministry of social justice is not a one-time happening, it is an essential element of the Cross-Resurrection dynamic that permeates our lives as Christians. And conversion does in-volve suffering as well as joy. With God as:our center, we can have the courage to face our own need for conversion and the suffering that ac-companies it, Such suffering is redemptive. Conclusion We are,' each, called to a ministry of justice, but our ministry must take place in the rootedness of our faith lest we become simply good humanists or philanthropists. Our commitment must be founded in the love of God and the "Good News" of his Son. Although this may seem to be an evident" premise, it is easy to lose sight of once we become involved in actual work. We depend on one another for support, for.challenge and tolerance. And we are nourished in our commitment to act on behalf of social justice by our prayer and the Eucharist: in prayer, for it is here in the quiet moments that we can face the reality of just who our center is-~ourselves or God; in the Eucharist, because it strengthens us to face our timidity and fears, it calls us out of ourselves to be, like Jesus, persons for others. Now Available As A Reprint Prayer of Personal Reminiscence:' Sharing One's Memories with Christ by David J. Hassel, S.J. Price: $.60 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious 612' Humboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Taking the Long View Francis X. Hezel, S.J. Father Hezel is director of the Micronesian Seminar. based in Truk; Caroline Islands; Trust Territory, Pacific 96942 Not too long ago a gentleman visited these islands offering a new eight million dollar college as a gift to the Micronesian people from the U.S. Congress. His offer met with an enthusiastic response almost everywhere. At last Micronesia would soon have its own four-year college! Not a con-ventional college, but one that would be specially tailored for providing training in vocational skills or whatever else is judged to be educationally relevant. I was dismayed by the uncritical enthusiasm that greeted the visitor's offer, well-intentioned though it was. Don't people here know, I asked myself, that the new college will cost almost two million dollars a year to operate? A tidy sum, considering that the total amount of local revenues generated in the Trust Territory is only seven .million dollars at present. Isn't this gesture, I thought, a bit like making a gift to a poor friend of a good-sized German shepherd to guard his house, letting him know as you walk out the door that the animal eats five pounds of meat a day? tin any case, would a new four-year college of any kind help solve the burning question of how to promote economic development? Diplomas abound in the Trust Territory and marketable skills are on the increase. The real problem, of course, is jobs; and this won't be solved by adding another expensive education mill. As long as the goal is to develop Micronesia's resources and make the islands more productive, a new college with an increased capacity can only make a bad situation worse. If you want a person to spend his life in a fishing boat or on a farm, the worst thing you can do is plant him in a chair for another four years. He will very likely never get out of it afterwards. 696 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 Its the old story, I said to myself. Another."gift" from abroad; more hidden costs, social and economic; and the dependency rut gets deeper and deeper. How is it, I wondered,th~at this familiar story is repeated over and over again, even by individuals and groups that profess a commitment to self-reliance? Surely some of them must see the long-range effects of these projects. Consider the response to the Headstart and Old Age Programs, to use as examples two federal programs designed to benefit opposite ends of the population. No sooner was the Trust Territory made eligible for federal funds under these titles than every district opened an office, applied for government money, and began an earnest search for ways to spend it. The immediate benefits of the two federal programs were all too obvious: food for the young and the old, an income for those on the payroll, travel abroad for program directors and their understudies, and the promise of other good things to come. But how about the fact that the~palates of the young were being ha-bituated to breakfasts of tomato juice and doughtmts? What about the danger of families abdicating their strongly-felt traditional responsibility to provide for the elderly? Or the risk of weakening family and community ties, as still another responsibility of theirs is surrendered to a government agency? Then, of course, there is again the matter of furthering the eco-nomic dependence of Micronesia on a global superpower that has military interests to maintain. Somehow these last questions were overlooked in the rush to expand the district payroll and get money rolling in. A paycheck and cases of corned beef are just a bit more real than such intangibles as family bonds and ,psychological dependence. - Do I sound a trifle "anti-progress," or possibly even cynical?.Then let me make a public confession. Neither I nor the staff of the small private school of which I am director have altogether resisted the temptations of "easy money" from abroad. We are receiving federal funds from the six-million dollar Federal Feeding Program, as are virtually all public schools and a good many 'mission schools as well. To understand how an abomination of this sort ~might have happened, you would have tO put yourself in the shoes of a school administrator who is wondering how he will make it to the end of May. without going broke. Local support groups have not come through, the school accounts are just about exhausted, and bills continue to pile higher on his desk. Just then, in walks a federal program officer with a sheaf of papers in hand who proudly announces that he has funds to cover the entire cost of the school feeding program for the year. To the beleaguered school.administrator it is a heaven-sent answer to a pressing problem. Naturally he signs on the dotted line, heaves a sigh of relief, and then settles back to wait for the first check to come. ~ Taking the Long View / 697 That, however, is only the beginning.'A year later the school admin-istrator has to decide whether he shall continue to participate in the feeding program. He knows very :well that the 25 thousand dollars he receives will not raise the nutritional quality of the food one bit. Healthy food is some-thing that teenaged boarding students must have in ample quantity, no matter hbw financially hard-pressed the school may be. He knows that the Feeding Program of which his school is a beneficiary can only further re-inforce the "handout" mentality of a people long accustomed to looking to Washington to pay all their bills. He recalls with a shudder all that he has read and heard about the stifling welfarism of Indian reservations. But he calculates that an additional 25 thousand dollars a year would allow him to build a garage, a maintenance shop and new water tanks which he thinks that the school may need. And so, dismissing the uncomfortable concern he feels for remote consequences, he signs on the dotted line just as he did the year before. Like the others in the examples cited earlier, he has responded to the immediate need and left the future to take care of itself. Micronesia teems with persons like him (or should I say me?) whose decisions are based on answering today's needs at the expense of the future. Jobs, schools, roads and the like occupy our exclusive attention while the hidden costs of these "improvements" and the nature bfthe funds that finance them go uncalculated. This preocc~ipation with the sho~'t-term rewards might be called the national disease of Micronesia and it has infected every part of society. The employee who drinks up his paycheck, on Friday and Saturday to the sorrow of his family for the following two weeks shows acute symptoms of it. So does the fish dynamiter who pulls in his haul, rubs his belly, and leaves the shattered reef to repair itself---in twenty years time. Then there is the young college student who spends the two days before his semestral exams emptying Budweiser cans with his friends, and a week hence is looking for plane fare home from college. Is it simply an accident that a couple of years ago the theme song of the islands seemed to be "Help Me Make It Through the Night?" The people of an island press for Congress of Micronesia funds to erect a seawall, conscious only of the money that will make its way into their pockets, but unmindful of the damage to their sense of community that loss Of locally sponsored labor projects will inflict. Congressmen vote to ap-prove high-cost capital impr6vement projects to be funded by the U.S. knowing full well that the cost of maintaining these facilities will be a financial burden to Micronesia in later years. Top,level policy-makers cam-paign for higher wages for government employees, thereby undercutting any real hope of inducing young people to take up less lucrative but much-needed work in commercial agriculture and fishing. And ,everyone-- parents and educators alike---encourages the greatest possible number of 69~1 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 high school graduates to go off to college without the least idea of how they will occupy themselves when they return. Entrepreneurs with an eye for a fast dollar build supermarkets, bars aid moviehouses, thus helping to send the annual level of imports soaring still higher. Prominent businessmen who are. instrumental in bringing tele-vision into their islands make a killing on sales ofTV sets~ leaving the social consequences anti'the economic effects on families for others to handle. Political decisions, I fear, are made in much the same way. Nothing can convince me that the people of the Marianas, when they signed their Cove-nant with the U.S. two years ago, were as fond of the American Eagle as the dollar on which it 'appears. Yet money buys good things, as I have already ungrudgingly admitted. Whether, however, it will also purchase an enduring social bliss for the Northern Marianas remains to be seen. I have never heard or read a cogent explanation of what any of the separatist districts wants politically and I have despaired of ever doing so, although it is well-known what those districts expect by way of fiscal gains. I can only assume that they desire for themselves whatever their generous benefactors~ desire for them--whether these bene.factors be America, Japan, Nauru, or the Sheikdom of Aden. Surely it would be difficult to maintain that their decisions are. models of political far-sightedness, whatever else they may have to recommend them. But the rest of us are in no position smugly to point an accusing finger at those districts that have sought greener pastures---or, to be more exact, greener bankrolls--elsewhere. Which of the remaining' districts can hon-estly say 'tha~it would not have jumped at the chance to do likewise, had the opportunity been offered? We all seem to have fallen prey to this obsession with the immediate pay-off. It may be that this is an all too human weakness, but it is a frightening irony that our failings should be rationalizedqn the name of "progress" or "development." If development implies anything at all, it suggests a forward-looking approach---one that is as concerned with to-morrow and 20 years hence as with today. With the coming of foreign currency to these islands a century and a half ago, Micronesians were for the first time able to accumulate a surplus, to hoard, to save and invest. Money created the possibility of a "tomorrow" in these islands. By a strange irony, however, foreign money is now being used to freeze us securely into the present and to anaesthetize us against a concern for the future. Not that money, jobs, education, material improvements, and even federal programs are evil in themselves. The real problem is that these and other short-range benefits are so alluring that they overpower more distant considerations. And when they are offered to any of us gratis, their at-traction is practically irresistible. An announcment is made that some new federal program is offering funds to establish national parks, buy library books, or develop curricular materials for teaching the metric system. We Taking the Long View / 699 run to our desks' and concoct a proposal that will enable us to receive our share of the funds. Why not take advantage of a windfall while it lasts, we reason to ourselves. The trouble is that the objectives we set down for our programs can all too easily be inconsistent with or even run counter to broader develop-mental goals in ttie Trust Territory. There's certainly no harm in securing federal money to build a museum in which traditional artifacts will be displayed., or in providing emergency assistance for' rebuilding houses after a typhoon, or in putting up a new sports center at U.S. expense. But we must not be surprised if the cu-mulative effect oUall this on the community is to teach people that Santa Clauscomes to Micronesia every day of the year. Over many a desk in headquarters is posted the inspiring adage: "Give a person a fish and he has a meal today. Teach him how to fish and he has food for the rest of his life." It is very easy to understand how this lesson can be lost on our people today in the face of the mammoth give-away program that enervates our com-munities even 'as it showers on'them its material "blessings." Buyit~g canned federal programs is a lot like buying canned fish. It is inexpensive, convenient and satisfying---an eminently sensible thing to do. But there, are still those hidden costs to be reckoned, as we know only too well. Whether we weigh these costs in making any initial decision or not, they are bound to catch up with us in the end. Those of us who ~take a dim view of ~anned programs funded from abroad---and I include myself hereto so on the grounds that their long-term costs usually outweigh their immediate benefits. These "costs" can be conveniently grouped under three bro~d headings: social, economic and political, although some would want toadd "environmental" as a fourth heading. Let me now suggest a few examples of each. Regarding social costs we may say this. Programs that introduce into a community a substantial amount of money to build a road, erect a com-munity center or feed schoolchildren all too often bring about the pyscho-logical or social impoverishment of the community that they are intended to help. This happens when members of the community decide that it is more profitable for them to sit and wait for things to happen rather than initiate devi~lopment projects oftheir own. At this point, cooperative work by families on community projects sharply declines, and so does what we commonly call "community spirit." When most of its responsibilities are pre-empted by government agencies and alien institutions, the community simply loses confidence in its own effectiveness to achieve anything of real value. The same may be said of the family. As it relinquishes its respon-sibility for feeding toddlers, schoolchildren and the aged, the ties among its members will almost certainly weaken. The obvious question that must be asked of every development project, then, no matter what the source of funding, is whether its effects will be to increase or diminish the social fabric and sense of purpose of the community. 700 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 ¯ Micronesians commonly refer to their islands as "poor"--that is, as lacking adequate income to provide for themselves much of what they regard as desirable. For this reason, there is usually a mad rush to obtain whatever haaterial benefit~ the U.S. or any other country might offer by way of assistance. What is often overlooked, however,, is that certain gifts may make us poorer rather than richer. Expensive hospitals, water systems and airports are also expensive to rriaintain year by year--and the future budget of a "poor" group of islands is bound to be very limited. Moreover, some improvements can require an expanding network of expensive facilities and social services to support them (or clean up the social mess they have made). Take,the case of a costly new high school that is built of sufficient size, to allow all school-age youth in the area to enroll. Soon after the new school opens discipline problems multiply, since there are clearly a large number of misfits who have been accepted in the cam-paign to make secondary education universal. To keep the poorer students in school, a special program for potential dropouts is funded through a federal grant. A recreation center is built and new staff is hired to moderate the center's activities. Social therapists are trained---at additional expense-- and hired to counsel "hardcore" problem students. Mental health facilities and referral centers are established through still another program. In short, everything.possible is done, at prodigious expense, to keep in s~chool young people who never wanted to be there in the first place, As social services and physical facilities proliferate along with the pro-grams that support them, Micronesians are gradually led to believe that a society without expensive gadgetry and quackery is entirely impossible. To have a school without sliding classroom dividers or a hospital without sophisticated laboratory equipment becomes unthinkable. It is no wonder that Micronesians have come to believe that they can't live without an extravagant subsidy from abroad! Naturally this means that they will have no recourse but to continue living in the shadow of the American eagle--with all that this implies politically and militarily. Very few decisions today are simple decisions. Most have far-reaching implications on the future social, economic and political order in these islands. We know this only too well, of course, but all of us still must adjust to making decisions at times as if there were no tomorrow. Until all of us learn honestly and openly to weigh the long,term effects of our choices, not just count the immediate gains; we will be deluding ourselves

Loet Leydesdorff on the Triple Helix: How Synergies in University-Industry-Government Relations can Shape Innovation Systems





This is the sixth and last in a series of Talks dedicated to the technopolitics of International Relations, linked to the forthcoming double volume 'The Global Politics of Science and Technology' edited by Maximilian Mayer, Mariana Carpes, and Ruth Knoblich 







The relationship between technological innovation
processes and the nation state remains a challenge for the discipline of
International Relations. Non-linear and multi-directional
characteristics of knowledge production, and the diffusive nature of knowledge
itself, limit the general ability of governments to influence and steer
innovation processes. Loet Leydesdorff advances the framework of the "Triple
Helix" that disaggregates national innovation systems into
evolving university-industry-government eco-systems. In this Talk, amongst others, he shows that these eco-systems can be
expected to generate niches with synergy at all scales, and emphasizes that, though
politics are always involved, synergies develop unintentionally.




Print version of this Talk (pdf)




What is the most relevant aspect
of the dynamics of innovation for the discipline of International Relations?



The
main challenge is to endogenize the notions of technological progress and
technological development into theorizing about political economies and nation states.
The endogenization of technological innovation and technological development
was first placed on the research agenda of economics by evolutionary economists
like Nelson and Winter in the late 1970s and early 1980s. In this context, the
question was how to endogenize the dynamics of knowledge, organized knowledge,
science and technology into economic theorizing. However, one can equally well
formulate the problem of how to reflect on the global (sub)dynamics of
organized knowledge production in political theory and International Relations.



From
a longer-term perspective, one can consider that the nation states – the
national or political economies in Europe – were shaped in the 19th
century, somewhat later for Germany (after 1871), but for most countries it was
during the first half of the 19th century. This was after the French
and American Revolutions and in relation to industrialization. These nation
states were able to develop an institutional framework for organizing the
market as a wealth-generating mechanism, while the institutional framework
permitted them to retain wealth, to regulate market forces, and also to steer
them to a certain extent. However, the market is not only a local dynamics; it
is also a global phenomenon.



Nowadays,
another global dynamics is involved: science and technology add a dynamics different
from that of the market. The market is an equilibrium-seeking mechanism at each
moment of time. The evolutionary dynamics of science and technology nowadays
adds a non-equilibrium-seeking dynamics over time on top of that, and this puts
the nation state in a very different position. Combining an equilibrium-seeking
dynamics at each moment of time with a non-equilibrium seeking one over time
results in a complex adaptive dynamics, or an eco-dynamics, or however you want
to call it – these are different words for approximately the same thing.



For
the nation state, the question arises of how it relates to the global market
dynamics on the one side, and the global dynamics of knowledge and innovation on
the other. Thus, the nation state has to combine two tasks. I illustrated this
model of three subdynamics with a figure in my 2006 book entitled The Knowledge-Based Economy: Modeled,
measured, simulated (see image). The figure shows that first-order interactions
generate a knowledge-based economy as a next-order or global regime on top of
the localized trajectories of nation states and innovative firms. These complex
dynamics have first to be specified and then to be analyzed empirically.



For
example, the knowledge-based dynamics change the relation between government
and the economy; and they consequently change the position of the state in
relation to wealth-retaining mechanisms. How can the nation state be organized
in such a way as to retain wealth from knowledge locally, while knowledge (like
capital) tends to travel beyond boundaries? One can envisage the complex system
dynamics as a kind of cloud – a cloud
that touches the ground at certain places, as Harald Bathelt, for example,
formulated.



How
can national governments shape conditions for the cloud to touch and to remain
on the ground? The Triple Helix of University-Industry-Government Relations can
be considered as an eco-system of bi- and tri-lateral relations. The three
institutions and their interrelations can be expected to form a system carrying
the three functions of (i) novelty production, (ii) wealth generation, and
(iii) normative control. One tends to think of university-industry-government
relations first as neo-corporatist arrangements between these institutional
partners. However, I am interested in the ecosystem shaped through the tri- and
bilateral relationships.



This
ecosystem can be shaped at different levels. It can be a regional ecosystem or
a national ecosystem, for instance. One can ask whether there is a surplus of synergy
between the three (sub-)dynamics of university-industry-government relations
and where that synergy can generate wealth, knowledge, and control; in which
places, and along trajectories for which periods of time – that is, the same
synergy as meant by "a cloud touching the ground".



For
example, when studying Piedmont as a region in Northern Italy, it is
questionable whether the synergy in university-industry-government relations is
optimal at this regional level or should better be examined from a larger perspective
that includes Lombardy. On the one
hand, the administrative borders of nations and regions result from the
construction of political economies in the 19th century; but on the
other hand, the niches of synergy that can be expected in a knowledge-based
economy are bordered also; for example, in terms of metropolitan regions (e.g.,
Milan–Turin–Genoa).



Since
political dynamics are always involved, this has implications for International
Relations as a field of study. But the dynamic analysis is different from
comparative statics (that is, measurement at different moments of time). The
knowledge dynamics can travel and be "footloose" to use the words of Raymond
Vernon, although it leaves footprints behind. Grasping "wealth from knowledge"
(locally or regionally) requires taking a systems perspective. However, the
system is not "given"; the system remains under reconstruction and can thus be
articulated only as a theoretically informed hypothesis.



In
the social sciences, one can use the concept of a hypothesized system
heuristically. For example, when
analyzing the knowledge-based economy in Germany, one can ask whether more synergy
can be explained when looking at the level of the whole country (e.g., in terms
of the East-West or North-South divide) or at the level of Germany's Federal
States? What is the surplus of the nation or at the European level? How can one
provide political decision-making with the required variety to operate as a
control mechanism on the complex dynamics of these eco-systems?



A
complex system can be expected to generate niches with synergy at all scales,
but as unintended consequences. To what extent and for which time span can
these effects be anticipated and then perhaps be facilitated? At this point,
Luhmann's theory comes in because he has this notion of different codifications
of communication, which then, at a next-order level, begin to self-organize
when symbolically generalized.



Codes
are constructed bottom-up, but what is constructed bottom-up may thereafter
begin to control top-down. Thus, one should articulate reflexively the
selection mechanisms that are constructed from the bottom-up variation by
specifying the why as an hypothesis.
What are the selection mechanisms? Observable relations (such as
university-industry relations) are not neutral, but mean different things for
the economy and for the state; and this meaning of the observable relations can
be evaluated in terms of the codes of communication.



Against
Niklas Luhmann's model, I would argue that codes of communication can be
translated into one another since interhuman communications are not
operationally closed, as in the biological model of autopoiesis. One also needs a social-scientific perspective on the
fluidities ("overflows") and translations among functions, as emphasized, for
example, by French scholars such as Michel Callon and Bruno Latour. In
evolutionary economics, one distinguishes between market and non-market
selection environments, but not among selection environments that are
differently codified. Here, Luhmann's theory offers us a heuristic: The complex
system of communications tends to differentiate in terms of the symbolic
generalizations of codes of communication because this differentiation is
functional in allowing the system to process more complexity and thus to be
more innovative. The more orthogonal the codes, the more options for
translations among them. The synergy indicator measures these options as
redundancy. The selection environments, however, have to be specified historically
because these redundancies—other possibilities—are not given but rather constructed
over long periods of time.





How did you arrive where
you currently work on?


I
became interested in the relations between science, technology, and society as
an undergraduate (in biochemistry) which coincided with the time of the student
movement of the late 1960s. We began to study Jürgen Habermas in the framework
of the "critical university," and I decided to continue with a second degree in
philosophy. After the discussions between Luhmann and Habermas (1971), I
recognized the advantages of Luhmann's more empirically oriented systems approach
and I pursued my Ph.D. in the sociology of organization and labour.



In
the meantime, we got the opportunity to organize an interfaculty department for
Science and Technology Dynamics at the University of Amsterdam after a
competition for a large government grant. In the context of this department, I
became interested in methodology: how can one compare across case studies and
make inferences? Actually, my 1995 book The
Challenge of Scientometrics
had a kind of Triple-Helix model on the cover: How do cognitions, texts, and
authors exhibit different dynamics that influence one another?



For
example, when an author publishes a paper in a scholarly journal, this may add
to his reputation as an author, but the knowledge claimed in the text enters a
process of validation which can be much more global and anonymous. These
processes are mediated since they are based on communication. Thus, one can add
to the context of discovery (of authors) and the context of justification (of
knowledge contents) a context of mediation (in texts). The status of a journal,
for example, matters for the communication of the knowledge content in the article.
The contexts operate as selection environments upon one another.



In
evolutionary economics, one is used to distinguishing between market and
non-market selection environments, but not among more selection environments
that are differently codified. At this point, Luhmann's theory offers a new
perspective: The complex system of communications tends to differentiate in
terms of the symbolic generalization of codes of communication because this differentiation
among the codes of communication allows the system to process more complexity
and to be more innovative in terms of possible translations. The different
selection environments for communications, however, are not given but constructed
historically over long periods of time. The modern (standardized) format of the
citation, for example, was constructed at the end of the 19th
century, but it took until the 1950s before the idea of a citation index was
formulated (by Eugene Garfield). The use of citations in evaluative
bibliometrics is even more recent.



In
evolutionary economics, one distinguishes furthermore between (technological)
trajectories and regimes. Trajectories can result from "mutual shaping" between
two selection environments, for example, markets and technologies. Nations and
firms follow trajectories in a landscape. Regimes are global and require the
specification of three (or more) selection environments. When three (or more)
dynamics interact, symmetry can be broken and one can expect feed-forward and
feedback loops. Such a system can begin to flourish auto-catalytically when the
configuration is optimal.



From
such considerations, that is, a confluence of the neo-institutional program of
Henry Etzkowitz and my neo-evolutionary view, our Triple Helix model emerged in
1994: how do institutions and functions interrelate and change one another or,
in other words, provide options for innovation? Under what conditions
can university-industry-government relations lead to wealth generation and
organized knowledge production? The starting point was a workshop about Evolutionary Economics and Chaos Theory: New
directions for technology studies held in Amsterdam in 1993. Henry
suggested thereafter that we could collaborate further on university-industry
relations. I answered that I needed at least three (sub)dynamics from the
perspective of my research program, and then we agreed about "A Triple Helix of
University-Industry-Government Relations". Years later, however, we took our
two lines of research apart again, and in 2002 I began developing a
Triple-Helix indicator of synergy in a series of studies of national systems of
innovation.





What would you give as
advice to students who would like to get into the field of innovation and
global politics?



In
general, I would advise them to be both a specialist and broader than that.
Innovation involves crossing established borders. Learn at least two languages.
If your background is political science, then take a minor in science &
technology studies or in economics. One needs both the specialist profile and
the potential to reach out to other audiences by being aware of the need to
make translations between different frameworks. Learn to be reflexive about the
status of what one can say in one or the other framework.



For
example, I learned to avoid the formulation of grandiose statements such as
"modern economies are knowledge-based economies," and to say instead: "modern
economies can increasingly be considered as knowledge-based economies." The
latter formulation provides room for asking "to what extent," and thus one can
ask for further information, indicators, and results of the measurement.



In
the sociology of science, specialisms and paradigms are sometimes considered as
belief systems. It seems to me that by considering scholarly discourses as
systems of rationalized expectations one can make the distinction between
normative and cognitive learning. Normative learning (that is, in belief
systems) is slower than cognitive learning (in terms of theorized expectations)
because the cognitive mode provides us with more room for experimentation: One
can afford to make mistakes, since one's communication and knowledge claims
remain under discussion, and not one's status as a communicator. The cognitive
mode has advantages; it can be considered as the surplus that is further
developed during higher education. Normative learning is slower; it dominates
in the political sphere.





What
does the "Triple Helix" reveal about the fragmentation of "national innovation
systems"?



In
2003, colleagues from the Department of Economics and Management Studies at the
Erasmus University in Rotterdam offered me firm data from the Netherlands containing
these three dimensions: the economic, the geographical, and the technological dimensions
in data of more than a million Dutch firms. I presented the results at the
Schumpeter Society in Turin in 2004, and asked whether someone in the audience
had similar data for other countries. I expected Swedish or Israeli colleagues
to have this type of statistics, but someone from Germany stepped in, Michael
Fritsch, and so we did the analysis for Germany. These studies were first
published in Research Policy.
Thereafter, we did studies on Hungary, Norway, Sweden, and recently also China
and Russia.



Several
conclusions arise from these studies. Using entropy statistics, the data can be
decomposed along the three different dimensions. One can decompose national
systems geographically into regions, but one can also decompose them in terms
of the technologies involved (e.g., high-tech versus medium-tech). We were
mainly relying on national data. And of course, there are limitations to the
data collections. Actually, we now have international data, but this is
commercial data and therefore more difficult to use reliably than governmental
statistics.



For
the Netherlands, we obtained the picture that would more or less be expected:
Amsterdam, Rotterdam, and Eindhoven are the most knowledge-intensive and
knowledge-based regions. This is not surprising, although there was one surprise:
We know that in terms of knowledge bases, Amsterdam is connected to Utrecht and
then the geography goes a bit to the east in the direction of Wageningen. What
we did not know was that the niche also spreads to the north in the direction
of Zwolle. The highways to Amsterdam Airport (Schiphol) are probably the most
important.



In
the case of Germany, when we first analyzed the data at the level of the
"Laender" (Federal States), we could see the East-West divide still prevailing,
but when we repeated the analysis at the lower level of the "Regierungsbezirke"
we no longer found the East-West divide as dominant (using 2004 data). So, the
environment of Dresden for example was more synergetic in Triple-Helix terms
than that of Saarbruecken. And this was nice to see considering my idea that
the knowledge-based economy increasingly prevails since the fall of the Berlin
Wall and the demise of the Soviet Union. The discussion about two different
models for organizing the political economy—communism or liberal democracy—had
become obsolete after 1990.



After
studying Germany, I worked with Balázs Lengyel on Hungarian data. Originally,
we could not find any regularity in the Hungarian data, but then the idea arose
to analyze the Hungarian data as three different innovation systems: one around
Budapest, which is a metropolitan innovation system; one in the west of the
country, which has been incorporated into Western Europe; and one in the east
of the country, which has remained the old innovation system that is state-led
and dependent on subsidies. For the western part, one could say that Hungary
has been "europeanized" by Austria and Germany; it has become part of a
European system.



When
Hungary came into the position to create a national
innovation system, free from Russia and the Comecon, it was too late, as
Europeanization had already stepped in and national boundaries were no longer
as dominant. Accordingly, and this was a very nice result, assessing this
synergy indicator on Hungary as a nation, we did not find additional synergy at
the national (that is, above-regional) level. While we clearly found synergy at
the national level for the Netherlands and also found it in Germany, but at the
level of the Federal States, we could not find synergy at a national level for
Hungary. Hungary has probably developed too late to develop a nationally
controlled system of innovations.



A
similar phenomenon appeared when we studied Norway: my Norwegian colleague
(Øivind Strand) did most of our analysis there. To our surprise, the
knowledge-based economy was not generated where the universities are located (Oslo
and Trondheim), but on the West Coast, where the off-shore, marine and maritime
industries are most dominant. FDI (foreign direct investment) in the marine and
maritime industries leads to knowledge-based synergy in the regions on the West
Shore of Norway. Norway is still a national system, but the Norwegian
universities like Trondheim or Oslo are not so much involved in entrepreneurial
networks. These are traditional universities, which tend to keep their hands
off the economy.



Actually,
when we had discussions about these two cases, Norway and Hungary, which both
show that internationalization had become a major factor, either in the form of
Europeanization in the Hungarian case, or in the form of foreign-driven
investments (off-shore industry and oil companies) in the Norwegian case, I
became uncertain and asked myself whether we did not believe too much in our
indicators? Therefore, I proposed to Øivind to study Sweden, given the availability
of well-organized data of this national system.



We
expected to find synergy concentrated in the three regional systems of
Stockholm, Gothenburg, and Malmö/Lund. Indeed, 48.5 percent of the Swedish
synergy is created in these three regions. This is more than one would expect
on the basis of the literature. Some colleagues were upset, because they had
already started trying to work on new developments of the Triple Helix, for
example, in Linköping. But the Swedish economy is organized and centralized in
this geographical dimension. Perhaps that is why one talks so much about
"regionalization" in policy documents. Sweden is very much a national
innovation system, with additional synergy between the regions.





Can governments alter
historical trajectories of national, regional or local innovation systems?



Let
me mention the empirical results for China in order to illustrate the
implications of empirical conclusions for policy options. We had no Chinese
data set, but we obtained access to the database Orbis of the Bureau van Dijk
(an international company, which is Wall Street oriented, assembling data about
companies) that contains industry indicators such as names, addresses,
NACE-codes, types of technology, the sizes of each enterprise, etc. However,
this data can be very incomplete. Using this incomplete data for China, we said
that we were just going to show how one could do the analysis  if one had full data. We guess that the
National Bureau of Statistics of China has complete data.
I did the analysis with Ping Zhou, Professor at Zhejiang University.



We
analyzed China first at the provincial level, and as expected, the East Coast
emerged as much more knowledge intense than the rest of the country. After
that, we also looked at the next-lower level of the 339 prefectures of China.
From this analysis, four of them popped up as far more synergetic than the
others. These four municipalities were: Beijing, Shanghai, Tianjin, and
Chongqing.



These
four municipalities became clearly visible as an order of magnitude more
synergetic than other regions. The special characteristic about them is that –as
against the others – these four municipalities are administered by the central
government. Actually, it came out of my data and I did not understand it; but
my Chinese colleague said that this result was very nice and specified this
relationship.



The
Chinese case thus illustrates that government control can make a difference. It
shows – and that is not surprising, as China runs on a different model – that
the government is able to organize the four municipalities in such a way as to
increase synergy. Of course, I do not know what is happening on the ground. We
know that the Chinese system is more complex than these three dimensions
suggest. I guess the government agencies may wish to consider the option of
extending the success of this development model, to Guangdong for example or to
other parts of China. Isn't it worrisome that all the other and less controlled
districts have not been as successful in generating synergy?



Referring
more generally to innovation policies, I would advise as a heuristics that
political discourse is able to signal a problem, but policy questions do not
enable us to analyze the issues. Regional development, for example, is an issue
in Sweden because the system is very centralized, more than in Norway, for
example. But there is nothing in our data that supports the claim that the
Swedish government is successful in decentralizing the knowledge-based economy
beyond the three metropolitan regions. We may be able to reach conclusions like
these serving as policy advice. One develops policies on the basis of intuitive
assumptions which a researcher is sometimes able to test.



As
noted, one can expect a complex system continuously to produce unintended
consequences, and thus it needs monitoring. The dynamics of the system are
different from the sum of the sub-dynamics because of the interaction effects
and feedback loops. Metaphors such as a Triple Helix, Mode-2, or the Risk
Society can be stimulating for the discourse, but these metaphors tend to develop
their own dynamics of proliferating discourses.



The
Triple Helix, for example, can first be considered as a call for collaboration
in networks of institutions. However, in an ecosystem of bi-lateral and
tri-lateral relations, one has a trade-off between local integration
(collaboration) and global differentiation (competition). The markets and the
sciences develop at the global level, above the level of specific relations. A
principal agent such as government may be locked into a suboptimum. Institutional
reform that frees the other two dynamics (markets and sciences) requires
translation of political legitimation into other codes of communication. Translations
among codes of communication provide the innovation engine.





Is there a connection
between infrastructures and the success of innovation processes?



One
of the conclusions, which pervades throughout all advanced economies, is that
knowledge intensive services (KIS) are
not synergetic locally because they can be disconnected – uncoupled – from the
location. For example, if one offers a knowledge-intensive service in Munich
and receives a phone call from Hamburg, the next step is to take a plane to
Hamburg, or to catch a train inside Germany perhaps. Thus, it does not matter
whether one is located in Munich or Hamburg as knowledge-intensive services
uncouple from the local economy. The main point is proximity to an airport or
train station.



This
is also the case for high-tech knowledge-based manufacturing. But it is
different for medium-tech manufacturing, because in this case the dynamics are
more embedded in the other parts of the economy. If one looks at Russia, the
knowledge-intensive services operate differently from the Western European
model, where the phenomenon of uncoupling takes place. In Russia, KIS
contribute to coupling, as knowledge-intensive services are related to state
apparatuses.



In
the Russian case, the knowledge-based economy is heavily concentrated in Moscow
and St. Petersburg. So, if one aims –as the Russian government proclaims – to create
not "wealth from knowledge" but "knowledge from wealth" – that is, oil revenues
–it might be wise to uncouple the knowledge-intensive services from the state
apparatuses. Of course, this is not easy to do in the Russian model because
traditionally, the center (Moscow) has never done this. Uncoupling
knowledge-intensive services, however, might give them a degree of freedom to
move around, from Tomsk to Minsk or vice
versa, steered by economic forces more than they currently are (via institutions
in Moscow).





Final question. What does path-dependency mean in the context of
innovation dynamics?



In
The Challenge of Scientometrics. The development, measurement, and
self-organization of scientific communications (1995), I used Shannon-type information theory to study
scientometric problems, as this methodology combines both static and dynamic
analyses. Connected to this theory I developed a measurement method for
path-dependency and critical transitions.



In
the case of a radio transmission, for example, you have a sender and a
receiver, and in between you may have an auxiliary station. For instance, the
sender is in New York and the receiver is in Bonn and the auxiliary station is
in Iceland. The signal emerges in New York and travels to Bonn, but it may be possible
to improve the reception by assuming the signal is from Iceland instead of
listening to New York. When Iceland provides a better signal, it is possible to
forget the history of the signal before it arrived in Island. It no longer
matters whether Iceland obtained the signal originally from New York or Boston.
One takes the signal from Iceland and the pre-history of the signal does not
matter anymore for a receiver.



Such
a configuration provides a path-dependency (on Iceland) in
information-theoretical terms, measurable in terms of bits of information. In a
certain sense you get negative bits of information, since the shortest path in
the normal triangle would be from New York to Bonn, and in this case the
shortest path is from New York via Iceland to Bonn. I called this at the time a
critical transition. In a scientific text for instance, a new terminology can
come up and if it overwrites the old terminology to the extent that one does
not have to listen to the old terminology anymore, one has a critical
transition that frees one from the path-dependencies at a previous moment of
time.



Thus,
my example is about radical and knowledge-based changes. As long as one has to
listen to the past, one does not make a critical transition. The knowledge-based
approach is always about creative destruction and about moving ahead,
incorporating possible new options in the future. The hypothesized future
states become more important than the past. The challenge, in my opinion, is to
make the notion of options operational and to bring these ideas into
measurement. The Triple-Helix indicator measures the number of possible options
as additional redundancy. This measurement has the additional advantage that one
becomes sensitive to uncertainty in the prediction.





Loet Leydesdorff is Professor Emeritus at the Amsterdam School of Communications Research (ASCoR) of the University of Amsterdam. He is Honorary Professor of the Science and Technology Policy Research Unit (SPRU) of the University of Sussex, Visiting Professor at the School of Management, Birkbeck, University of London, Visiting Professor of the Institute of Scientific and Technical Information of China (ISTIC) in Beijing, and Guest Professor at Zhejiang University in Hangzhou. He has published extensively in systems theory, social network analysis, scientometrics, and the sociology of innovation (see at http://www.leydesdorff.net/list.htm). With Henry Etzkowitz, he initiated a series of workshops, conferences, and special issues about the Triple Helix of University-Industry-Government Relations. He received the Derek de Solla Price Award for Scientometrics and Informetrics in 2003 and held "The City of Lausanne" Honor Chair at the School of Economics, Université de Lausanne, in 2005. In 2007, he was Vice-President of the 8th International Conference on Computing Anticipatory Systems (CASYS'07, Liège). In 2014, he was listed as a highly-cited author by Thomson Reuters. 





Literature and Related
links:



Science & Technology Dynamics,
University of Amsterdam / Amsterdam School of Communications
Research (ASCoR) 


Leydesdorff,
L. (2006). The Knowledge-Based Economy: Modeled, Measured, Simulated. Universal Publishers, Boca Raton, FL.


Leydesdorff, L. (2001). A Sociological Theory of Communication: The Self-Organization of the
Knowledge-Based Society. Universal Publishers, Boca Raton, FL.


Leydesdorff,
L. (1995). The Challenge of Scientometrics . The development, measurement, and
self-organization of scientific communications. Leiden, DSWO Press, Leiden University.


http://www.leydesdorff.net/





Print version of this Talk (pdf)



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It is not what we to-day would call a large chapel—the number of the order was al-ways small and select—but the dignity of the lofty granite pillars and arches, which look so sombre and heavy in the dim half twilight of the heavy stained glass windows,, the musty coolness and above all the death like stillness only broken by soft footfalls or the whispered explanation of the guide as you pause beside the grave of some once famous knight, whose armor arranged in his likeness, lies stretched at full length on THE MERCURY. 49 top of his tomb, and frequently the armor is battered and dinged and in some cases pierced clear through. The chapel is the last part of the hall shown and it is well, for so greatly does the awe of the old, old sanctuary take possession of you that the spell is only broken by the lively bustle of the team-ing streets. It was our good fortune to meet a most obliging English-man while going through Lincoln's Inn, and when we lett he asked us to share a pass to the Mansion House with him. The Mansion House is situated right next to the Bank of England. In this building takes place the state meetings be-tween the King and the Mayor and it is here that the yearly banquet of the King and officers of the city are held. By virtue of our pass we were shown the banqueting hall and the long table with its array of cut glass and gold. All the dec-orations and hangings of the various rooms are of the finest and everywhere you look you can see that distinguished guests have been received there. After parting from our sociable friend we hastened toward the Zoo, stopping to get lunch on the way. It was our cus-tom to get our meals wherever we happened to be when out sight-seeing, as often we were very far away from our hotel. 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When he found that we would not buy his out-tit— and he expected nothing less for the French think all Americans are millioniares who are ready and anxious to sup-port as many Frenchmen as desire to be and so as soon as an American desires to buy an article it becomes invaluable, an Englishman or any other nationality can get the same'article for less than half—he immediately declared that we needed a guide and folding up his stand proceeded to take us under his wing. We explained to him in our best school French that we guessed we could toddle along without his help. But he held other views. We tried to ignore him. But the more we 52 THE MERCURY. looked over his head and in every other direction but at him, the more effusive he became. We tried waiting. We sat on a bench for half an hour. He came and stood in front of us and pointed out the various parties out driving. We turned the bench around He offered to help us and when we refused he came around and began to name off the dignitaries going in a public building opposite. We got up and left. So did he. He tried to get'hold of our luggage to carry it, in fact, . do what we could, call him all the names we could thing of, at the end of a long tirade he would simply smile and say he had been in New York and could talk English. It was mad-dening. Finally by hiring a hack and refusing to go if the driver let him ride along, which at first he tried to do, we got rid of him Afier getting ourselves settled in a hotel where United States English, not an awful imitation, was spoken, we sallied out to admire the city. Paris well deserves the title of beautiful The buildings on ajl the principal thorough-fares are constructed of white marble and set back quite a distance from the curb. On some of the boulevards trees and shrubs are placed between the buildings and the sidewalks. The builcb'ngs are kept in a white condition as no soft coal is used inside the city limits and no factory is allowed within three miles of the city. The streets and boulevards are all of wooded blocks which are kept from being splintered by com-pelling all the horses and mules to be smooth shod. The cafes of Paris are scattered everywhere. All along the boulevards, one after another. Here one can sit and sip his drink while listening to the playing of the orchestra in the open lobby and watching the never ending procession of the countless thousands of idle, gay pleasure loving sight seers. People of all nationalities pass before you, for all come to Paris. While you are sitting watching the changing of the throng lit up by thousands and thousands of electric lights, till you can almost believe that night has been turned to day. A troupe of singers may come along and stopping, sing some popular song of the day, or a musician may perform on some instrument for Paris is an intensely music loving city. The very atmosphere seems charged with pleasure while the throng is composed of tourists from all parts of the world who have THE MEKCURY. 53 come especially to see and enjoy Paris and its beauties It is a city whose principal object seems to have been the acquiring of beauty and it has well succeeded. Our first day we did nothing but stroll around the streets and admire the artistic public buildings and the parks and boulevards. We lunched in a pleasant little cafe where no one could speak English and as we could not make out what the bill of fare was we trusted to luck and ordered at random. Many times we ate strange compounds with names as long as an incurable disease, but all extremely tasty, for the French are famous cooks. They wait on you with the utmost polite-ness always read}' with a bow and a smile and a torrent of words and at the same time just as cheerfully charging you for your water and napkin, it making not the slightest differ-ence whether you drink the former or use the latter. After lunch we went through the horse market. This is a place where all the old, worn out, stiff or crippled horses are brought and sold to the butchers, for horse steaks have this advantage over beef that no matter how old the horse may be the meat is still as tender as in a two year old. Although the horse butchers are required to place a horse head over their shops still a great deal of horse meat is eaten under the name of beef for it is hard for one not knowing the difference to tell them apart. Not far from here the fish market was situ-ated. Every stall consists of a scries of troughs about a yard wide and a foot deep, filled with running water. The fish and other marine animals are placed^ in these troughs which are separated from each other by screens, which allow the water to flow through but not the animals, and thus kept alive so that the purchaser knows he is getting fresh fish. As it was getting late we started back, to our hotel, passing the ruins of the Bastile on the way. To-day all that is left of that once hated and renowned prison is a corner of a wall which is kept as a souvenir of the days of power when the nobility ruled with-an iron hand. We boarded a car bound for our hotel, and here again we saw the carefullness of the Parisian builders. No trolley wires mar the streets, but at the end of the route the car is recharged from underground pipes and so on the run it carries its own motive power. By the aid of the map we finally reached our hotel. 54 THE MERCURY. A SNAKE SKIN BELT. J. ROY M'.MILLAN. TWAS riding home at vacation time on a slow train. The weather was hot and the car was crowded. At a way station a pleasant looking young man entered and took a seat beside me. An odd snake skin belt he wore attracted my attention. It had a bright nickel or silver buckle and was about an inch and a half broad. The color was yellow or brownish yellow with large dark brown blotches upon it. The young man saw me glance at it and asked "Would you like to know how I got my belt?" 'Indeed I would," was my ready response. So without hesitancy he commenced the following story : "Late one summer afternoon I was riding along a narrow mountain road. Gypsy, my horse, was taking her own time, as the way was steep and rough. The air was warm and under its narcotic influence all nature seemed drowsy ; but the -in-sects were wide awake. Large yellow and black butterflies floated by, or stayed for an instant at some attractive flower. A cloud of little yellow and white ones hovered over each moist spot in the road, flying swiftly aside as the horse or buggy disturbed them. The reins hung loose in my hand and now and then, in spite of my efforts, the desire to sleep closed my eyes. "Suddenly Gypsy jumped to one side of the road. A locust drummed shrilly a short distance ahead—or was it a locust ? Something had frightened the horse, for it attempted to back. Soon the cause of the disturbance was apparent. In the mid-dle of the road about fifteen feet ahead lay coiled a large snake : its body, a muddy yellow, with three rows of large irregular spots of dark brown arranged in a zigzag pattern upon its back. Its wedge shaped head was slightly raised and from the center of the coil the rapidly vibrating bony rattle sent out the sharp whirr I had heard. It is a sound that once heard is hard to forget. The challenger was a fine specimen of the light colored rattlesnake. A sudden impulse to take •this snake inspired me. Leaping from the buggy I tied the horse and cut a forked stick, about five feet long. Taking the stick in my left hand and the buggy whip in the other I ad- THE MERCURY. 55 vanced to do battle. The snake had changed its position and was drawn in an 'S' shaped curve, as it could not strike from a regular coil. I walked close to the snake and extending the whip struck it lightly. TTie rattler also struck and thus extended itself. I attempted to place the fork of the stick just behind its head but by a quick twist it turned the stick aside, again drawing itself into a striking or defensive position. After several failures I succeeded in pinning the writhing and thrashing snake to the ground. Then I had to summon cour-age to take the snake in my hand and carry it to an empty box, I knew to be in the buggy. While I was thinking over this, by a quick • twist, the rattler freed itself and now thoroughly beaten, made for the rocks on the roadside. My only course was to kill it quickly or let it escape me ; so I struck it several times with the whipstock until the thick body ceased to move. The way was now cleared of the danger, so I drove on con-gratulating myself upon the good fortune in securing so large a snake, which I afterward found to be forty-eight inches in length. The skin made the belt I wear and also a purse cover and I carry the rattle with me as a sort of charm even if it is only a superstitious idea." After a few more words my companion arose and left me to ride the last few miles of my journey alone. 56 THE MERCURY. CAPE COD CALLS. SEA—PORTLAND STORM—SOID—RACE POINT STATION, BY REV. GEORGE C. HENRY, '76. THE sight of the sea to an inlander seems to supply a cer-tain something which he has been waiting for all the year. My first sight of the ocean at all was at Atlantic City when a boy of fifteen I accompanied my father (E. S. EL of '49) on an excursion given to the meeting of the East Pa. Synod in session at Philadelphia. That view on that Septem-ber day long ago stands out clearly to this very hour. I love to sit and watch the breakers in a majesty all their own for even in this land-locked bay they are great. I could hardly keep myself from going over the two miles to the Atlantic every day to see them rolling ceaselessly in on the shore. Ah, the day we did see them I We bad toiled over the acres of. undulating sand dunes which stretch away for miles, when suddenly from a summit one of the party cried, 'The Sea 1'* I thought of the account in Xenophon, "The Retreat of e Ten Thousand," when the weary marchers caught the first sight of the Euxine and hailed it with the glad shouts, t'®tiA.aa-cre ! ®aXaacre !" Well, as quickly as it was possible to pull our feet out of yielding sand we made our way toward that streak of misty light and soon were where the waves have beeu surging for countless vears. As far as eve could gaze was the swelling: tide, at our feet its ceaseless moan. Within gunshot lav a wreck of a coal barge, a three-master, run ashore in a storm. It is alwavs a mournfullv suggestive sight to see a vessel going-to pieces, water-soaked from stem to stern, the wind playing and whistling through its rotting rigging. In full sight from the place where 1 used to write, lay the wreck of a schooner that with many others went to death in the awful "Portland storm" of November, 1898, of which something later. No. I will speak of that.storm now. The people in those parts give it that name because of the sad fact that on the Sat-urday evening before Thanksgiving of that year the steamer "City of Portland" sailed from Bostou for Portland. Maine, into which desired harbor she never came. It will never be known just when and where she went down, but on Sunday THE MEKCURY. 57 evening' a little after seven her wreckage began floating ashore on Cape Cod, a pitiful sight ! She was a side-wheeler, must have been struck by a coal barge, so Cap'n Herrick, of Swan Island, Maine told ine, but whatever her unrevealed misfor-tune she and her two hundred passengers went down on that Saturday night and not one survived At Provincetowu I held in my hands the door plate, "Chief Engineer's Rcnni," and a lap robe and a piano stool, all from the ill-fated steamer. A house up along Commercial Street here has. the very end of the name, —"AND" nailed over the front door. I have a ruler on my desk here this moment made from a shutter si >t, also a brass hook and a little paper cutter given me from the picked up wreckage. So fiercely did the wind blow landward that Sunday evening and afternoon, too, that a Mr. Swift, a reporter for the Boston and New York papers, couldn't get his horses to face that biting, nipping tempest, he had to le .ve them in the lee of the friendly woods and struggle as best he could to the scene. So he got his story at first hand but with it, too, a soaked ulster, its pockets half full of sand blown in by the wind, and his face cut at places by the points of the pelted sand. The people there seem to reckon things by the "Portland Storm" and T pray that He Who ruleth the wind and waves may prevent another like it. At our first walk along Provincetown Harbor shore we no-ticed scattered along the sand the malodorous remains of some fish of the backboneless species, but being from the interior we knew not what they were. We soon learned. One day there arose a cry landward from the end of the long pier : "The Squid ! The Squid !" With other sojourners like our-selves, we hastened to the end of the pier where a strange and unwonted sight met our gaze. In one unbroken, ceaseless thick flowing mass came, backwards like their cousins, the crab species, millions of the peculiar squid. They are the queerest looking among that which passeth through the paths of the seas. From their snouts project ten tentacles, their heads are joined to the hinder part which looks like the sheath of a big knife ; they have the power when pursued or dis-turbed to eject an inky fluid which darkens the water and. thus enables them to escape. From this midway aperture they also throw clear water. By swimming backwards they 5S THE MERCURY. prevent the tentacles from becoming entangled and thus these addenda to their make-up draw with their motion into a point,, and as you stand and look at them swimming you can't tell whether they are going backward or forward. Very near the pier was a large weir about twenty feet square, in which there was one solid, squirming, squirting mass of them alread}r caught. A dory was being filled as we arrived. A man stood on the edge of it, and dipping some vessel about as big as a peck measure down into the mass he brought it up full to over-flowing every time and their boat began to sink ; so thev beckoned to their partners who were thereabouts to bring an-other, which they proceeded to do, and the filling process went on. The squid are cold-storaged until March 'when they are taken by the the cod fishers and used for bait up on the Grand Banks of Newfoundland. They are a miniature species of the devil fish, a nasty denizen of the deep to meet anywhere alone as Victor Hugo tells so tremendously graphic in his- "Toilers of the Sea."' I mentioned a weir a moment ago. Did^ you ever see any ? We never had until we came here. They resemble a chicken yard more than anything else. They are so constructed as to catch the finny fellows in great shape. My wife and I no-ticed one of these things away out to the left and one after-noon when the tide was out (it rises nine feet here) we waded out barefoot to get a view at closer range. The tide being so-high the traps must be tall and they are. We paddled along gaily in boy and girl fashion and before long arrived, but we did not prolong our inspection. Just above in this article there is quite a lengthy reference to the squid. Our olfactor-ies detected a very decided reference to them before we were within close range. They stank for they had been dead some days. F(o)ully satisfied with our inspection we turned and made for regions whose odors were more agreeable. A rare and unexpected treat was an arranged visit to the Race Point U. S. Life Saving Station. A noble and ennobling sight is a Life Saving Station and along the shore of ^Old. Ocean's gray and melancholy waste." living,, sentient beings contesting with manly vigor against the waste of life in humanity which the sea is ever causing. A large party of the Mayo Cottage boarders was made up at THE MEKCTJRY. 59 the breakfast table, the livery men were 'phoned to, while We waited for de wagon And all tuk a ride. The Race Point Station is one of those many admirable in-stitutions which our Government sustains and whose inmates are picked men. It is their duty to patrol the beach through the sight watches ; each man walks his beat (about a mile and a half) for three hours, meeting always at the end of the beat the watchman or saver from the next station with whom he exchanges a brass certificate which shows to the Lieutenant that he has performed his duty. On certain days these six white-coated men drill with the life-saving apparatus, the breeches buoy, etc, and on this day by previous arrangement they waited until we came. The bomb with the attached rope was shot out to a mast, fastened, the breeches buoy was sent out after it, an odd-looking affair resembling a huge bologna sausage with short pant-legs dangling from it, into which the one being rescued is supposed to fasten himself and to be hauled into shore by the life-savers. After we had seen this interesting drill, we were shown through buildings, sitting and dining and sleeping rooms, all the boats and apparatus. From upstairs on clear days the statue of Captain Miles Stan-dish can be seen across the bay over on Plymouth Hill possi-bly thirty miles toward the west. A lonely life these men must lead, varied by only one day off a week provided the day is fair, varied enough too, and stirring. "When descends on the Atlantic, The gigantic Storm wind of the Equinox, Landward in his wrath he scourges, The toiling surges Laden with sea weed from the rocks." They have wind there on those sand dunes which is blown so fiercely, so pointedly against the window panes that it blurs the glass into indistinctness ; it remains translucent, of course, but not transparent. A new pane is always kept on hand or the iudwellers could not possibly see out of that window. But whatever be the weather, these men both here and at Peaked Hill, of which we shall write another time, are semper parahts and for years during fall and winters they have had something of this noble, exciting, dangerous work to do. A bit of this in our next. 6o THE MERCURY. THE CAUSES OF THE CIVIL WAR. PAUL E. BLOOMHART, '09. J7T T this late period, when the hostile spirit has died out -£^- entirely both in the North and the South, it is a fitting time to review the causes of so mighty a struggle with un-biased judgment. The immediate cause of the secession of South Carolina in i860 was the election of Lincoln to the Presidency. But of course the real causes were the principles for which Lincoln and his part}' stood. First, the Southern states believed that any state had a right to secede from the Union at its pleasure, and that the Constitution did not give the President or Congress any au-thority to restrain it. This belief is embodied in the States Rights doctrine to which Lincoln and the Republican party were opposed. The presence of slavery is a very much disputed cause. It is undoubtedly true that most of the'Southern States wanted unlimited extension of slavery into new territory and that the North wished to abolish it altogether, yet the South was not so much in favor of it as is generally supposed. Two years before the war the legislature of Virginia lacked but two votes to abolish it, and South Carolina lacked' but one. And the -leaders of the South surely must have foreseen that slavery would have to go in a few years even if the South should be successful. Another cause was the misunderstanding that existed be-tween the mass of the people in the South and the people of the North. Books written at this time gave the Northern people the wrong impression that slaves were always treated badly by almost everybody in the South, while most of the Southerners felt that the North was accusing them unjustly and that the spirit of John Brown animated the whole North. To make matters worse, neither side attempted to find out the real state of affairs in the other section. There is a host of minor causes, but the true and funda-mental cause is this antagonistic feeling, existing from the time of the Revolution. It is the outcome of a fixed law or principle. From time immemorial, there have been two distinct classes THE MERCURY. 61 of society in every community, state, nation, or race, which have always been warring with each other. All through Ancient History, their clashes have been felt, especially in Greece and Rome, the founders of Western Civilization, are they noticeable. Greece was composed of two distinct states, vSparta and Athens, representing an aristocratic state and a democratic state, respectively. The two united in common defense against the Persians, but in the following thirty years, Greece was ravaged by one of the most horrible of civil wars. In Rome, from the first, there were dissensions between the patricians and -the plebeans. So, following the course of hu-man events, we cannot discover one nation whose history does not record the occurrence of one or more of these civil wars. The revolutions in France and Germany, the struggles of the underclasses in Italy and Austria, and many others can be named. But the most important of these is the struggle in England between the Cavaliers and Roundheads. This civil war concerns us the most. Now the settlements in Virginia, Georgia, and the South generally, consisted of adventurous English Noblemen whose fathers or grandfathers were called Cavaliers and most of the families of the South to-day aredirect descendents of these settlers. But in the North, the New England States were set-tled by the Puritans and Pennsylvania by the Quakers, whose ancestors were the Ronudheads. Later in the history of America, the two sections united in a common cause as the Greeks did. But as the country grew and as the interests of the North and South separated, the inevitable result was the bloodiest givil war that the world has ever seen. T H E HERCU.RV Entered a' the t'ostajfice at (letfyxhurg as second-class Mutter. VOL. XV GETTYSBURG, PA. APRfL. 1907 No. 2 Editor in-1 hief EDMUND I* MANGES, '08 Exchange Editor ROBERT W. MICHAEL, 'OS Business Manager HENRY M. BOWER, '08- Ass't Bus. Managers LESLIE L. TAYLOR, '09 CHAKLES L. KOPP, '00 Assistant Editor MARKIEV C. ALBRIGHT, 'OS Associate Editors PAUL E BLOOMHART, '09 E. E. SNYDER, '09 Advisory Hoard PROF. J. A. HIMES, LITT.D> PROP. G. D. STAHLEY, M.D. PROP. J. W. RICHARD, D.D. Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Pennsnaylvia (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in. advance \ single copies 15 cents. Notice to discontinue sending THE MERCURY to any address, must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited tc* contri-bute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE MERCURY. GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS. All the readers of the MER-CUR\ noticed that the last issue appeared under a new cover. We feel that this is a decided improvement over the old, mak-ing a much neater appearance in all respects. This is only one step forward in our intended general improvement. Although our intentions are excellent yet, as we have said before, the best results do not alone depend on the staff. Our readers' inter- THE MERCURY. 63 est is most kindly solicited so that with their assistance our intended hopes may be fulfilled. RESPONSIBILITY. It is remarkable what great prominence any movement may attain if there is one man behind it who exerts his energies in its favor. A little ser-ious thought will show us that the scope is wide. All the organizations about our college at one time were dubious un-dertakings, but at the present time are so firmly established that one unacquainted with their beginnings might think they originated with the college itself. These results are due mainly to the efforts of individual students. But let those who have charge in those matters grow listless and uncon-cerned and not put forth their best efforts in behalf of their duties, soon will a Sad state of affairs result, simply because some one's sense of responsibility is not what it should be. We are astonished at what great influence each man in our school has upon our community either for good or evil. The students may be divided into two groups, the energetic and the indifferent, the former the cause of praiseworthy and the latter of lamentable conditions. If the conditions about our school are lamentable is it not to a great extent the direct fault of the students themselves because they don't have energy enough to make them otherwise. And then in such a state how prone human nature is to shift the responsibility upon the shoulders of another one. The amount of benefit derived from having a great amount of obligation resting upon one's shoulders needs no discussion. It is plainly evident to all. If there were only some way of making each student rouse himself from his indifference, not only he but his institution would be extremely better off. EXCHANGES. "The Sorosis" published this month a very well written ar-ticle, entitled. "Attitudes or Advice to one about to Enter College." The production is jocose description of the char-acteristics of students at Women colleges. We are glad to have this disclosure of the hows, the whys and the becauses of a school for the opposite sex. Some pastime related in the 64 THE MERCURY. writing are: Eating hot fudge, 10.10 P. M., and welsh rar-ebit at 12.12 A. M. (These are conductives to good digestion says the writer.) Girls ! We are surprised. "The Mountainer" is good. The article "Duty or Friend-ship" vividly reminds us of the address delivered by Mr. Mercer. The article is interesting and confirms the old maxim, "Five years after graduation makes or breaks a college man." The exchange notes are well written. Young Greek Student: "Doctor, I am not a natural born Greek scholar." Dr. B. : "Well, I know we find people like that sometimes, but still we can rub 'Greece' into them."—Ex The "Sketch Book" is always a welcome visitor to our desk. We are glad to have it on our list. The subject mat-ter this month is commendable. We acknowledge "The Red and Black" (Reading), "The Perkiomenite." "The Philomathean," "The Drury Mirror," "The Harvard Eampoon." "The Lesbian Herald" is one of our best exchanges. The contents are always good and we never tire reading it. This month is no exception. TOAST TO GEOMETRY. Sing a song of school days, A head that knows not why, A lot of propositions Are figured into n (pi). And when the it was opened The class in horror shrunk. Wasn't that a dainty fish To make a fellow flunk ? PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. Mattresses, Bed Springs, Iron Beds, Picture Frames, Repair Work done promptly. Under-taking a specialty. - Telephone No. 97. IE3C_ IE3_ Bender, 3» Haltinwrr St., Gettysburg-, /• SCHOOL Songs with COLLEGE Flavor - .f.O Songs of the Flag and Nation - .50 100 New Kindergarten Songs - 1.00 New Songs fur College Glee Clubs .1.0 New Soni>s for Male Quartets . .50 Songs ofthe University of Pennsylvania 1.511 Songs of the University of Michigan - 1.85 Songs of Washington and Jefferson College- 1.25 Songs oi Haveiford College - - 1.25 New Songs and Antht-ms lor Church Quartet {Eleven Numbers) each .10 to .30 HINDS, NOBLE & ELDREDGE, PuMshers 31-33 35 West !5lhSt. New York City COMPILER IMPRINT ON JOB WORK MEANS TASTY WORE CAREFULLY DONE. MENU CARDS, WINDOW POSTERS. DANCE CARDS LETTER HEADS, ENVELOPES, TICKETS, Programs of all kinds. Everything the College Man wants in Paper and Ink. Specially designed work. Latest Effects in Paper, done in Colors along lines-of College Men's Associations. Catalog and Book work. The Gettysbmg Compiler will keep old and new students in touch with town and college life.

Issue 36.6 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Louis UmversLty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1977 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: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other dountries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 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 FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Dattiel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November 1977 Volume 36 Number 6 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REWZW FOa REL~CIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. (;allen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. My Son's "Hour" by Virginia Ann Gardner, S.S.J.1 who shares via dramatic mono!ogue memories ---of others' contemplations and her own-- in an interview with Mary about 1Sister Virginia Ann resides at 517 East 26th Sty; Erie, PA 16504. I. The Marriage Feast at Cana Now that I think about it, my Son's hour had a special kind of beginning at Cana. Chesterton once said, "There was some one thing that was too great for God to show us when he walked upon our earth; and I have sometimes fancied--it was his mirth." That is so true it makes me smile. You would have to admit the gospels show little if any of the Alleluia that Augustine said a Christian should be from head to foot. But the evangelists had so much to tell--and, besides, when they were writing, trying to catch the memory of Jesus in words, they knew little mirth themselves. They knew only urgency as they watched Christians pay the price of Love. Little won-der they record no mirth, no laughter, no sign of human joy. Yet, from the beginning, marriage feasts have been symbols of celebra-tion. One finds few somber wedding guests--ever. And so it was at Cana! We had gone to Cana together--Jesus and his new friends, strong, simple men full of the love of life. Cana was filled with mirth and laughter and the warmness of love shared. 817 I~11~ / Revie,w for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 Then, strange that I should have noticed, I read the concern on servant faces: all jugs of wine were empty. It struck a sympathetic chord and I turned to Jesus: "They have no wine," I said. It was just a simple remark--nothing more; the observation of some-thing that would bring embarrassment. It was the way anyone would say, "What a pity!"; or, "Isn't that a shame!"---and wish that you could help. You know, if I were to orchestrate a symphony, I'd compose the Marriage Feast of Cana in a major key of sheer joy--until we knew "there was no wine." But when my son responded, "Woman, what is that to you and to me, my hour is not yet come?"--then, I'd have tympanums clap and cymbals clang; I'd deafen ears with the roar of drums. It would be a haunt-ing interlude--repeated often during the symphony to record in sound the history of an hour that began at Cana. Jesus called me Woman. Strange. Did he mean it as a call to sacrifice --a call to live what women through the years have lived? "She is such a woman," we say--and mean there is nothing small about her; she does not stoop to smallness; she endures. Still, it startled me, much as Gabriel had some thirty years before, with--"Rejoice, O highly favored daughter!" Then Jesus spoke again, "What is that to you and to me?" Was he calling me to translate and respond? Translation revealed everything: He meant: were he to act, the act would be but a first on the way to his hour. "My hour has not yet come," he had said. Someone has called its dis-cernment~ etermining the will of God. At Nazareth I had "wondered and was troubled," I even questioned Gabriel. I did not unders.tand. At Cana there was no wonder, no question. I knew! And I said to the servants: "Do whatever he tells you." Yes, I answered~knowing full well "what it meant to Jesus and to me." We would be parted. I would be alone --and where Jesus was, what he would be doing, I would not know. You see, at Cana we shared discernment: His Father willed that his hour should begin. A mother, someone has said, is a lover--a lover who gives of herself and then pushes the loved .one away, both the child and herself enriched. I loved my son; I had given him myself; I had taught him human ways of talking, walking, laughing. At Cana I pushed that loved one away so that he could tell others what to do. The pushing hurt. But long ago I had vowed: "Be it done unto me according to Thy will." Corita says, "To celebrate is to tell who we are and to say yea cere-moniously." That is what my son and I did together at Cana. I spoke my last recorded words: "Do whatever he tells you." My last recorded words! They began my son's hour. John tells it in his Gospel. You'll read it all in John, and only there. Yes, we had looked forward to Cana. We had not known what the Father would ask. He asked me to be woman; He asked for an hour to be-gin; and on that day my son and I, together, shared a fiat. My Son's "Hour" / 8"19 II. Good Friday Evening Now I knew. Now I understood. Scripture had unfolded. It was like hearing that symphony played--one I had studied the score for but had never heard. "Oh, so that's how it goes! It's lovely and aweful." John had come for me--telling me Jesus' hour had come. I knew it of course. I'd known it since that day in Cana. Lovers aren't aware of time. Days, months, years telescoped. I had said my fiat to this hour thirty-three years ago, but thenwI did not understand. It's like writing something or clinging to an idea you don't understand until later. The unknown is diffi-cult, but it's good for you too. How hard it would have been to live those thirty-three years with what I know now! But at Cana the hour moved both Jesus and me at once. We knew. I did not need to speak for him to hear me, because we were both hearing with our hearts then; and we had both said yes. With Jesus it was always yes. I guess it was with me too---because the Father helped me, the Spirit moved within me--and I said yes ceremoniously to the God of my life. I think the Father saw "that it was good." Since then, since Cana, time has dragged and sped. I've heard so many things about my son. Sometimes what I've heard pierced--and I'd remem-ber Simeon. Sometimes, though, my heart quickened. People would tell me of his life, his compassion--and I'd go back to our Nazareth days, days shared with Joseph. But John came--a humbled "son of thunder." I understood. I loved him for it, and.I went with him. Jesus came stumbling up the road---carry-ing that cross. My heart broke; it broke. But even then I understood. You don't live trusting all those years without the courage to be strong. Then Jesus saw me. I extended no veil. I did not weep. I gave him all I could. His Father, my Father, erased from my eyes all pain. Once again, I did not have to speak for him to hear me: "It's all right, Jesus; no, don't worry about me. Your hour has come. I understand." His glance meeting mine spoke too. It was almost as though he tried to smile, and console me, saying, "It's not bad, not bad at all. Don't worry, Mother." Role pl~ying? You call that role playing? Putting on a masque? No, not at all. Me? I call it gift--my last gift to him. My son, who had emptied himself to take on the masque of humanity, would understand. Emptied him-self. I'm told that is the way Paul wrote it. I like the way another has put it: "Poured himself out." That is how I see his hour that started at Cana and became a free accepted death-act on Calvary. Hearing iron strike iron was such a familiar sound to me! My husband was a carpenter and he'd taught my Son. Part of the price of that hour was the giving up of sounds, sounds that brought back "homey" memories. Strength was God's gift to me; but because he is all knowing, and because he is everything my Son had revealed, I knew he'd understand that ever since that hour, I've been very sensitive to iron striking iron. ~i20 Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 Three hours is not so long a time. It took us longer to get to Bethlehem --and much longer to Egypt---but no time was longer in all my life than those three Friday-hours. His hour was never so long in coming. My heart still shares that pain as I watch loved ones die--loved ones am(~ng my chil-dren now on earth. My children? Yes, my children. During my son's hour he gave me as Mother to all children of all time and all places. Strange! I had given birth to Jesus for one reason: so that he might be shared with all people of all time and all places. In the greatest hour of that sharing, he too shared me-- with John, and in John, you. At Cana, I spoke my last recorded words, "Do whatever he tells you." In one of my Son's last words, he tells you to take me as your Mother. His hour had come and he gave up~no---he didn't give up, he poured out his Spirit. It was that Spirit that had filled me years ago--and once again--this time eternally, I prayed my fiat and you became my Spirit-child. Now share your Brother's hour caught eternally in time. His hour is here! With him, pour yoursel[ out. III. Holy Saturday "Great will be his dignity." I had pondered those words in my heart for thirty-three years: while arranging the straw in the stable-manager; while fleeing in fear to Egypt; as I stood before the prophet Simeon. They came back with new poignancy during the donkey-pageantry in Jerusalem--and five days later when I saw Jesus' bloodied eyes neath his thorned-crown. Then, as I prepared his bruised body for burial, as I washed his wounds, and Joseph (how good his name was Joseph!) helped me with the linen shroud, I thought of them again. It would have been easy to be cynical but I had watched my son die; and I heard him forgive his crucifiers. Yes, I had heard him cry, "Father, forgive." And I heard him call me Woman. Could the dignity he called me to in that name ever match the dignity of his forgiving love? My sagging shoulders had straightened and John had helped me back to the Upper Room. On our way, John and I said the first Stations--back-wards. I made John show me the Praetorium and take me to Gethesmane. John cried, remembering his sleep. And he told me all my Son had said and done in the upper chamber. It was not the time to speak to him of symphony, but I tried to comfort John; he was young and the day had been agony for him, I knew. Then I withdrew. I cried my tears alone. The Father watched and con-soled me. Jesus had wept at Lazarus' tomb; and Jesus had said just a few hours earlier: "Who sees me, sees the Father." Tears, I knew, were some-thing the Father understood. I let them come. What had happened to my mother-hope? "Great would be his dignity. He will be called Son of the Most High. He will rule forever in a reign My Son's "Hour" / 821 without end." Gabriel had told me that. It was a message from the Father. Let me tell you--that night there was within me a whisper of despair, Was it, I wondered, a whisper my son knew too when I heard him call: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Faith is not faith, we're told, until it has been tested. That night, my faith knew its greatest test. And yet something still stirred within me--and I endured. I waited through that long, long vigil--clinging hard to mother-hope and to the patience I had learned from waiting for his hour. I knew--no, I did not know; I hoped that his hour had not ended. I fell asleep saying, "Lord, I believe; help . . . help thou my unbelief." IV. Resurrection If "appearing" means "closeness," there was no need for my Risen Son to come to me. Together or apart-~I live in him and know his closeness. The time after Cana had taught me that. Then, I had thought Jesus' mission would ask for separation--a typical human fear, I know---but the Father was good. Just as the Incarnation had never separated Son from Father, so Jesus' leaving home kept us still united. With him, I was doing the Father's will, and the Father asked that I share him with the world. I shared, and lost nothing. Jesus had said the one who best does the will of his Father--is his mother and father and sister and brother. People pitied me when he said that. They needn't. He was really saying I was more than mother to Jesus. His Father willed it so and I accepted that will. Thomas Merton, in writing about me, once explained how I felt, "I was glad because He was glad and for no other reason." I say all this so you'll understand: it was not necessary for my Risen Son to appear to me. All that mattered was that I believed and he knew I did. Ignatius Loyola had loved me, so he insisted that Jesus appeared to me first. I never admitted that--even to Ignatius; nor shall I admit it to you. Yes, you like the poem that tells I had gathered herbs and had them ready for Jesus' Easter breakfast. You like to think that, while apostles hud-dled in fear, while women wondered "who will roll back the stone," and Magdalen searched the garden--I was calmly fixing those herbs. I'm sorry. That is like a little jewel---a pretty thought. I cannot say it's more. John, whom Jesus had given me as son, was exhausted when he'd finished his memories of Jesus. '"There are still many other things that Jesus did," he wrote, admitting the world would not have books enough to record them. Some things must wait 'til heaven-~else why have faith? I say, then, to you--perhaps I saw my risen son on Easter; perhaps, as it will be for you, that vision came only ~at death. It matters not. The important thing is Christ had died; Christ is risen. I believed and, so, my child, must you. I promise though, that sometime when we meet in heaven, we'll talk about this if you want. But then I doubt if it will matter. You'll Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 understand when your believing is no longer necessary, for Christ will come again. Wo Dialogue with Mary at 55-~ I was not so old the day Christ died So young I was the night I gave him birth. But when they pulled that spear from out his side No one was quite so old on all this earth. You remember that poem, do you? It's true--I was older at 55. Mothers share the lives of their children and my Child had become sin. I think I can say he had become the sin of all my children; he had taken on himself your sin--with that of all the others. Sin ages one. Faith on Good Friday didn't save me from feeling the weight of all those sins. And with Jesus, I forgave all those engaged in sin's tragedy until the end of time. I forgave y6u--and loved you in my Son. But all this took its toll. Yes, I was older at 55. The death-resurrection act was almost ten years old then. John and I shared a home and much more besides. He had begun his Gospel and he'd leave parts with me when he. went on his journeys. I would read them in the quiet evenings pondering each word in my heart; it would take me weeks to read my son's "last discourse." All the apostles would come to see me--come home, tired, from their journeys. Luke came too--our cousin, constantly asking questions about the early life of Jesus. I loved to share my memories. They had become very precious to me---forming a tapestry now--and even Golgotha brought peace. I had lived my own "healing of memories." Things were different after Pentecost. The Holy Spirit that had come upon me long years ago came to all the apostles--filling them with the Love that had given me the courage of my years. All minutes were precious to me but when one of the apostles would return, and I'd send word to the neighbors, and we'd break bread together, keeping my son's new Covenant --then, I find it hard to tell you what I knew. I don't mean that I didn't feel his Spirit with me always. It was just that I'd experience my pre-Bethlehem days again. Jesus was within me--no longer an unborn infant, but my mature son--and we'd share together all we once did not understand. That knowledge and that wisdom were caught in heartbeats of Love. Then I'd be ready to go to the well again and listen to the gossip of the women. Christians, they would say, "are changing the face of the earth." 2The author herselt' is 55. My Son's'",Hour" / 823 Some were not eager for that change. It exacted a heavy toll, I know. But filled with the Spirit the Father sent me one spring evening--and my risen son sent to the whole world--I could look at each woman with such love that she too could respond with openness to that Spirit. You would have liked my life at 55. Did I long for heaven? I longed, my child, only to do God's will. If ever the Father had been very fond of anyone, he'd been fond of me. I wanted to return that fondness--without anxiety. The Trinity lived within me. I was content to do the Father's will. I don't mean that I didn't feel the cross of separation. I was human-- very human, and I longed for reunion with my parents, with Elizabeth, with Joseph. But it was comforting to know they were all with God. We'd be together again--all of us in his good time and that would mean for eternity. And I said once more to the Father; Behold the handmaid of the Lord Be it done unto me according to your will. Amen! .O Till I Begin I did not understand till I had begun to know. I did not find You, You found me; a small and melancholy st6ne to be carried in Your pocket, till I begin to wear, to shine, till I am brushed to a smooth and faultless final core. Stephanie E. WeIler 1030 East Washington St. Iowa City, lowa 52240 Dread (the Dark Night) and Christian Transformation Leslie Lund Miss Lund is presently working on her thesis to complete her work towards an M.A. degree in Religious Studies at Gonzaga University in Washington; her interest is in spirituality. She resides at E. 945 Nora, 4~4; Spokane, WA 99207. It is difficult to be living an authentic, deep Christian life without shortly running up against the cross, the "dark night" (St. John of the Cross), the "cloud of unknowing" (14th-century anonymous Christian mystic), or "diminishment" (Teilhard de Chardin). I will lump all such terms, and the experience they attempt to express, under the catch-all word, dread. These elements of suffering and diminishment (dread, as we may now call it) are not peculiar to Christianity, and neither is mystical experience itself. Such experiences are not in themselves a good. Dread is not to be sought for its own sake. We are not stoics or modern existentialists or Buddhists --but Christians--and this article cannot be read outside the total Christian perspective. Christians may not affirm or emphasize the negative aspects of spiritual growth to the exclusion of ultimate Christian hope, fulfillment, the restoration of all things in Christ. It is my hope, lest distortion arise, that this focus will be kept clearly in mind throughout the article until its final elaboration in the concluding pages. The Paschal Mystery is diminishment, yes, but it is transfiguration. It is the cloud, but it is truth and light. It is the dark night of the soul, but it is union. It is the cross, but it is, ultimately, the resurrection. Though there may be a number of different levels or nuances to dread, in this paper I will be dealing with a very specific understanding of it. The focus will be on religious dread, though to accentuate its particular qualities 824 Dread and Christian Transformation I Will at first show religious dread in counterdistinction to an existentialist conception of dread. There are a variety of states of dread, even within the religious context, so to further narrow the topic, this article will concern itself with the religious dread experienced in serious prayer (desert prayer or contemplative prayer-~-the "dark night of the soul" in John of the Cross). For a representative understanding of this state of dread I will use the l~anguage and thought of a "classical" contemplative, the author of The Cloud of Unknowing, and also of a modern contemplative, Thomas Merton (from his book, Contemplative Prayer, in which the topic of dread is dis-cussed in some depth). Dread Dread is a basic, and common, human experience, and as such, it is a theme that recurs in literature, psychology, philosophy and theology. For the philosopher Kierkegaard, dread could also be set within a religious context. But even so, generically it can be described as a condition or state of being that comes before and precipitates a choice (leap) from one period of life to another. Dread, then, involves the awful possibility of freedom, for it forces the choice for or against new realities or potentialities. This state of freedom and new choices is recognized as very painful by existentialist philosophers, but Kierkegaard believed one could be delivered from it by making a leap, a commitment to the "objective uncertainty." The leap is the leap of faith.1 The choice is painful because it is made in regard to the unknown and undeterminable, and hence to what is both attractive and fascinating, but revolting and frightening. It is a very uncomfortable sit-uation, marking the end of self-complacency and the beginning of some-thing new. Let us further define dread. Christians, along with existentialists, can describe it as a state of anguish, alienation, and insecurity. It also includes a recognition of the limits of reason (the experience of "absurdity" for the existentialist), though for the Christian this does not therefore imply that what is is meaningless, but rather, that the meaning escapes the power of haman reason, and lies beyond the self in the.transcendent mystery of God. However, religious dread includes attributes or nuances beyond "sec-ular" dread. It includes for the Christian also the awareness of sinfulness, wandering, exile, Iostness (Exodus themes). This state Merton describes as ". death--a kind of descent into our own nothingness, a recognition of helplessness, frustration, infidelity, confusion, ignorance.''~ The person can experience an acute, sense of his own uselessness and worthlessness. This experience and awareness of the self is particularly painful, though for tThe similarity of this secular view of dread with our religious dread, and what it means in a Christian context will come Clear, hopefully, a little later. 2Thomas Merton, Contemplative Prayer (Garden City: Doubleday, 1969), p. 34. ~196 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 the Christian this pain does not drive him to self-sufficiency in setting up the self as the center of its universe, but on the contrary, pushes him towards God as the center and meaning of his being. The author of The Cloud of Unknowing makes this statement about the experience of nothingness, self and sinfulness: Then will come a time when he recognizes in that nothingness no particular s'in but only the lump of sin itself which, though but a formless mass, is none other than himself; he sees that in himself it is the root and pain of original sin.a ; Rephrased for 6ur own time we might call this an understanding of the experience of self-worship, with the accompanying experience of this false self as the root of sin, darkness, emptiness and alienation. Our anonymous author also wrote that to feel one's own existence, which is'the content of our modern word "dread," is the greatest suffering possible. ". he alone understands the deep universal reason for sorrow who ex.periences that he is."4 It is more terrible than any other type or level Of experienced isolation and separation. Within the experience itself often comes the realization that this must be what hell is like. And with it also comes the temptation to despair at ever being healed or delivered from it and froha the burden of self. That we are as we are (separated existence) is the source of our deep anguish. The illusion that brings the agony is the failure to experience God in one's own being. Instead, one experiences his .being apart from God. For as often as he would have a true knowing and feeling of God in purity of spirit ¯. and then feels that he cannot--for he constantly finds his knowing and feeling as it were occupied and filled with h foul, stinking lump of himself., he almost despairs for the sorrow that he feels, weeping, lamenting, writhing, and blaming himself. In a word, he feels the burden of himself so tragically that he no longer cares about himself if only he can love God? This is the fundamental cause of this type of dread, though there are other corollaries and ramifications. The alienation that causes the anguish is more than a sense of being a useless, unnecessary, ephemeral being, and includes a profound experience of being separated from God, all men, and even from the self. This gives rise to acute feelings of insecurity, for not only can we not control God, we are even powerless to control or to be reconciled to ourselves. We discover we have nothing and are nothing by ourselves. This period of dread is a time when faith is seriously challenged (as is everything that has ultimate value and meaning in the Christian's life). The fear is great that faith will be lost or abandoned, and that the see,rningly absurd and meaningless, or even despair, will be embraced instead. The aThe Cloud of Unknowing and the Book of Privy Counseling, ed. by William Johnston (Garden City: Doubleday, 1973), p. 137. 41bid., p. 103. 5lbid., p. 104. Dread and Christian Transformation entire process of dread is a crucible of honesty, where truth is almost experienced as the enemy because of the pain it causes. One sees too clearly his own unfaithfulness and dishonesty in regard to Truth, especially as it involves the truth of his own life. The existentialists coined the phrase "bad faith" which is descriptive of the awareness that one is capable of, or has been living his life untruthfully, that one has not been true to God, to his fellow man or even to himself. One perceives that he may have been living contrary to the truth of his own call or condition. Indeed, truth itself is questioned. Old ideals and values lose their certainty. There is the suspicion that one may have set himself up as the standard of truth, or there is the temptation to do so if truth is not so certain for him. Deep down, far back in the mind there are demands or calls or possi-bilities that are only dimly and faintly recognized. Failure to respond to, or even examine them, haunts and produces a sense of failure and guilt. Somewhere there is a stubborn, defiant refusal to be all one can be. Every-thing feels illusory and slippery, and out of control, and this gives rise to panic. We "want out," we want to escape the condition, but we do not know what we want instead or where to go. The experience of rebellion and anger are overwhelming at times. We experience, too, a deep hatred for God and for ourselves. God is like a "monkey on our back"--an ever constant and annoying affliction that we cannot get rid of, Like Jeremiah we feel angry at being tricked and duped (20:7). This kind of relatedness to God is not at all what we expected. The spiritual understandings and com-forts of the past have vanished. We are comfortless. To pray is nearly impossible, if not impossible. Gone will be your new fervor, but gone, too, your ability to meditate as you had long done before. What then? You will feel as if you had fallen somewhere between the two ways having neither, yet grappling'for both.6 Not prayer, or mass, or confession, or any fulfillment of the "law" can take the dread away, or bridge the gap between God and the false self. The schism between this self and all that is seems infinite. The self is seen as bankrupt and barren, and the ha~-dness of heart, selfishness, and self-cen-teredness make us recoil in disgust and near despair. "I am gall, I am heartburn, God's most deep decree. Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me.''7 But still there is the clinging to the illusory false self for fear that if we let go of even that miserable possession we will have nothing and be nothing. God could not be so audacious as to demand that from us! Even though it is seen that this clinging to the false self causes our spiritual 6lbid., p. 143. 7Gerard Manley Hopkins, Poems and Prose of Gerard Manley Hopkins (Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1963), p. 62. 1~21~ / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 "sickness" and estrangement between God and self, still the all important, confused "I" remains th~ center of worship, and without the grace of God it can never be otherwise. The alienation is truly terrible, for it is not estrangement from the abstract, transcendent God of the philosophers, but is estrangement with the All and the ground of our own being. This point being re~iched in the ¯ dread of contemplative prayer, nothing is more terrible than the suffering of emptiness at the prospect of living without God, though the ambivalence of attraction and fear is again experienced--the proverbial "I can't live with him, and I can't live without him." At this point comes the temptation to believe that not even God can be what is needed, that not even he can fill the void, indeed, that he could not be the revelation of love of Jesus, but is instead, uncaring and disfant. "Wert thou my enemy, O thou my friend, how wouldst thou worse, I wonder, than thou dost?.-8 But there is a worse temptation. Maybe He does not exist at all;. and everything is meaningless. Though at first the struggle may be fierce and intense, strug-gling to fight back the chaos, finally one ". loses even the power to struggle._ _He feels himself ready to sink and drown in doubt and despair."9 Transformation While a description of dread needed to be set fo~-th, let us be reminded that this diminishment and apparently disintegrative condition is not the total picture, Much more is happening simultaneously. Does this most horrible of human experiences have a positive value for Christians? What is th,.e. "much more" that is happening? At bottom, it is all the mystery of the transforming cross, and since Christians are used to paradox, it should not be surprising that those who have come through dread speak of it as a "blessed gift." "God in his mercy protects the contemplative in this way, though some foolish neophytes will think he has turned enemy to them.''1° There are several approaches that can be taken in response to the process of dread. One can insulate himself from it by retreating into illu-sions of the world,, getting involved in society's concerns and structures, or in general, by just keeping busy and blocking out any interiority. Or, as many are saying today, one can escape it by "going through it." Thomas Merton wrote that the "chief service of the monk was not only silence, listening, and questioning, but was also b~ing open and exposed to dread."~ Those who are serious about their prayer and faith life, and gradual transformation into Christ, face, and even embrace, the crucible of dread, Slbid., p. 67. 9Merton, op. cit., p. 99. ~°The Cloud of Unknowing, p. 145. ~Merton, op. cit., p. 25. Dread and Christian Transformation / 829 and allow themselves to experience it totally. This is not done stoically. It is not done lightly. There is resistance, for Christians are not masochists; they always struggle against evil. It is the "If it is possible let this cup pass--not my will, but Yours" prayer of Jesus. Even the decision to go through this process is a mystery, and is often not even articulated at the conscious level. There is the sense of continually "letting go" and sub-mitring to the process and moving in the darkness and uncertainty, but if the question were put, "Why are you doing this?" probably no satisfactory answer could be given. This should not be a worry, and can be taken as a sign that it is an authentic transforming process, for it is not something we do to ourselves, rather it is something done to us with which we cooperate. It is the desert experience of the young Israel. Nothing is certain. Help, if it comes at all, comes only at the eleventh hour, barely in the nick of time. It is a period of trials and collapses. But it is the fruitful time of formation (as it was for Israel) and, it was, as it still is, the movement towards the Promised Land. There does not seem to be much of a choice once the process has started. It appears that God has forced us into a radical decision. (In The Book of Revelation he spits out the lukewarm.) We must make a choice. We are forced (as our existentialist writer, Kierkegaard, observed we would be). This makes us angry. We want to sit in the middle, but must choose the dread with its seemingly horrible emptiness and darkness (though we somehow s.uspect: accompanying growth and maturity) or withdraw and drop out of the process, letting ourselves become trapped in our own illusions and immaturity. Our Catholic tradition has always placed a value on suffering (more often than not a distorted value) and somewhere along the way we have all heard that this diminishment is a necessary factor in spiritual growth. If it is the authentic process, and not a pseudo one that we bring or put on ourselves, this can be so, and our faith can be deepened. Merton must be read in context, but he also puts it this way, ". full maturity of the spiritual life cannot be reached unless we first pass through the dread, anguish, trouble, and fear that accompany the inner crisis of spiritual death, where we abandon attachment to our exterior self and surrender completely to Christ.''12 Attributes of Transformation It is time to take up a description of the attributes that the transformation process of dread can accomplish. It brings about many spiritual benefits and new dispositions. Since it threatens faith, it also changes it and deepens it. The doubt and despair serve to purify faith and destroy some of the more human elements of it (i.e., the need for certainty, and a correspondence to t2lbid., p.110. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 one's way of looking at reality, etc.). It is not what it was before. It takes on new dimensions and powers. We can finally experience the very "dearest freshness deep down" of things that Hopkins wrote of in his poem "God's Grandeur." Some time during the process of dread we become more comfortable with it, i.e., with the uncertainty, darkness and emptiness. The dread has moved us mysteriously beyond the need for consolations or gratification of immediate desires, or need to control what is. The process has the power to radically alter attitudes, and once the person has been emptied and humbled through this process that is beyond his control, he can be filled with Christ-like attitudes. His stance before God can include such attributes as opennes, s, pliableness, purity of heart, dependence, defenselessness, emptiness, hopefulness, truthfulness and gratitude. One becomes receptive to the fullness of God through the process. As was mentioned earlier, it is definitely not a time to be trying to regain self-possession, nor is it a time to be making new resolutions. However, it is a time of surrender and a time of letting go of the control and direction of one's life, and of giving it trustingly into the hands of the Lord who has been in charge of the process all ~along. It is the moment to depend only on him and his grace. Again, the experience of dread forces honesty.'It makes us evaluate our commitments and motives and beliefs at a much deeper level. It surfaces questions to ask ourselves that we could not have asked before. It is a blessed time when we come to encounter our real selves, to get to know that person we truly are. It also destroys false conceptions of God, and reveals him as he is in himself. The authentic process reveals sham and posturing. It gets us down to rock bottom. It does not allow hypocrisy, and false religiosity. It makes clear our illusions, idolatries and addictions. It is the experience of being the broken clay pot, for it takes awhy our sense of self-possession or assurance. And though we can often be worried that the dread takes us only more deeply into ourselves, or gets us caught up in the trap of constantly taking our own emotional and spiritual pulses, in the end, the process takes us out of ourselves. The experience, in dread, of alienation becomes trans-formed into a great recognition, need and desire for reconciliation and union with God and our fellow man. It is said that God tests those he loves. This is scarcely of any comfort in the darkest hours of dread, and it is in no way adequate for describing the mystery of the process, but there is some truth to it. The process is a gift of God's enigmatic mercy, and it is God's work, not ours. (In the more traditional vocabulary it is known as passive purification.) Only the false self is destroyed and emptied, but to make room for the Christ-self. Re-men~ ber, we are not masochists or stoics or manicheans--but Christians, for whom each individual, including the self, is precious, not evil. But the true Christ-self cannot be happy or full apart from God, and it is the process Dread and Christian Transformation of dread that intensifies and deepens this realization. The Paschal Mystery is the dialectic that accomplishes this. Thomas Merton writes, This alternation of darkness and light can constitute a kind of dialogue between the Christian and God, a dialectic that brings us deeper and deeper to the conviction that God is our all. By such alternations we grow in detachment and in hope.~3 Our anonymous writer of The Cloud of Unknowing teaches that this is God's way of preparing, educating, and forming us through the alternation of hiS presence and absence. "As often as he goes, he will come back. And if you will suffer itall with gentle love, ea+h coming will be more marvelous and more joyful than the last.''14 In the process, doubt becomes faith. Despair becomes hope. The chaos and confusion become liberating and freeing. Hatred and anger mellow to gratitude and love. Rebellion becomes surrender. Peace comes in the com-mitment of the self to the loving will of God, and in the death of the false self comes the resurrection of the new Christ-self. The language and purpose of contemplative ~lread has a Pauline cast to it. The dread becomes the process in which the incomplete, false self dies so that the true self can come to be. It is "terrible" as the author of The Cloud of Unknowing calls it, but it is the work of love, nonetheless. The false old self dies, but this can be a joyous death for the Christian, for it is really the fulness of being. Therefusal to participate in this "work of love" results in a self that remains separated and isolated from the ground of its be!ng, God. To choose the destruction of the false self is necessary for the life of the true, resurrected self. It is to reject the illusions of the idolatry of the self. It is to truly believe at last that one is only himself when he is in union with God. "This simple awareness of my being is all I desire, even though it must bring with it the painful burden of self and make my heart break with weeping because I experience only self and not God. I prefer it with its pain., for this suffering will set me on fire with the loving desire to experience God as he really is.''15 Thus the author of The Cloud of Unknowing realizes that the suffering he.endures is really not hell at all "but his purgatory,.''16 He instructs the reader to not be troubled if his emotions or imagination tempt him to give up, for the prize is near. He asks simpl3i that a gift of the self be made as it is, to God as he is. Further, he counseis that there is no need, no matter ho.w it seems, for fear or panic or discoiaragement. His understanding is that it is a time to suffer humbly, waiting patiently in trust. For we do not know what is best for ourselves, but God, in his love and mercy, uses dread to bring us to his fuiness. God is audacious for us, and the process is nothing less than a total metamorphosis. "Now you are on what I might call a sort ~albid., p. 35. t4The Cloud of Unknowing, p. 184. 151bid., p. 174. ~lbid., p. 137. ~132 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 of spiritual ocean, in voyage from the rife of the flesh to the life in the spirit."~7 Though the author of The Cloud of Unknowing refers to this dread as a "hell of purgatory," a twelfth-century Cistercian monk, Isaac of Stella, refers .to it as a "hell of mercy." This is an even more powerful and rich notion. Here I quote the passage surrounding the idea of the "hell of mercy," for it very much embodies the reason and purpose of dread, that is, to destroy the false self, so that the Christ-self can be resurrected, and receive God himself. It also makes clear the concept of purification, not as punishment, but as a gift and work of Love. This passage must be read in the context of the total Christian dimension of diminishment and restora-tion, of cross but resurrection. It is too powerful and beautiful to para-phrase, so I leave it as it was written: "So let us be cruel and harsh for ourselves. I mean for the exterior man, so that we not offend the judge of both the interior and exterior man. If we accuse ourselves in all truth; if we judge ourselves with severity; if we condemn ourselves in harshness, we will not have to fear another accuser; nor will we have to be afraid to meet or confront another judge, or to have to endure or submit ourselves to another chastiser. What do we look for--pleasure or rest? We are on the cross. Or rather, we were in the world; we are in hell-- but a hell of mercy, not of wrath; we shall be in heaven. In the world, we sinned; here, we make atonement; there, we shall rest. There, we were in pleasures; here, in pain and tribulation; there, we will be in glory. There, we were in the dirt; here, we are in purification; there, we shall be in peace. "So let the Father be the Father of our souls and the chastiser of our bodies. Be he the Father of the Son of God in us. Be he the one who feeds and nourishes, the pedagogue and teacher, as long as childhood lasts, for him who i~ the future heir, and who as son, will dwell in his house forever. Be he for the son of man (man) theone who bruises and who humiliates, the one who betrays and seduces, the one who takes everything away, the one who crucifies and buries. If he neglects to act this way towards us, let us be ourselves the murderers of the son of man (man), but feeders and nurturers of the Son of God within us, so that he grow and become un-surpassed, or, as the apostle says, until Christ is formed in us, and we attain the perfect man in the fullness of Christ, who with the Father and Spirit reigns forever.''~8 In this same vein, though.from a different age and manner of expression, Thomas Merton also sums up the real value of dread, "The purpose of the dark night., is not simply to punish and afflict the heart of man, but to liberate, to purify and to eialighten in perfect love. The way that leads through dread goes not to despair but to perfect joy, not to hell but to heaven."19 171bid., p. 184. 181saac de L'Etoile, Sermons (Paris, 1974). pp. 148, 150, 152. ~aMerton, op. cit., p. 110. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality Thomas Dubay, S.M. Father Dubay, well known to our readers, presently devotes his time to lectures, retreats and chapter consultations for religious and priests. He resides at the Marist Administration Center; 4408 8th St., N.E.; Washington, DC 20017. No finite reality is adequately understood except in terms of its context. Even the God of revelation presents himself in Scripture in the context of a created world. The individual person is understood against the back-ground of his family, and social problems are evaluated in terms of the milieu in which they occur. A sentence is grasped only within its paragraph and the paragraph within the entire article. The classical example of this truth is the biblical statement, "there is no God." This is understood only with the words that precede it: "the fool says in his heart that . " Celibate friendship can be understood only in terms of a complete pic-ture of the raison d'6tre of celibate dedication. To discuss this way of life without a previous consideration of its primary orientation (which can be known only from Revelation) is to present a truncated account, almost necessarily an illusory account. The Usual Explanation The popular explanation of friendship in religious life is likely to begin with our modern and improved understanding of human sexuality. It goes on to say that while there was in bygone days an undue repression both of the reality and its open discussion, we now see a positive worth beyond that of procreation and we freely share our views about the matter. This may be followed by the basically favorable view of sex that we find in the Bi-ble-- even though anything approaching an adequate discussion of virginity 1~34 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 in the New Testament is omitted. At this point we arb likely to meet a disapproving look into the patristic and medieval literatures. Next the writer or speaker may direct attention to contemporary theories of sexuality as they may be applied to the celibate condition. Little or no attention is given to the revealed context of consecrated virginity. Instead we may find a mixture of undoubted truths ("the two sexes are complementary") with less secure statements (physical signs of affection [no limits mentioned] are normal between celibates) and even clearly .false ones ("there is no vocation to celibacy, only that to Christian life"). The legitimacy of celibate friendship is then supported and illustrated by the classical examples of Jordan and Diana, Catherine and Raymond, Jane and Francis. In this usual explanation there will be words of caution, for not anything at all is acceptable behavior. Yet the limits are not clear and some people carry away from the discussion the impression that occasional serious sin ought not to disturb the two friendsunduly, that such is the price of an enriching relationship. Celibate men and women need to mature in their relationships so that they can "handle" their emotional reactions. Religious and priests differ, of course, intheir evaluations of this typical discussion of celibate friendships. Some are highly critical, others are favorably impressed. My own reactions are mixed. Ican identify with some of the ideas in these presentations, but I also find serious shortcomings. There is often a lack of theological accuracy and of a realistic assessment of the human situation. There may be insufficient contact with the biblical word and, especially, there is no adequate context. Celibate friendships are seen as though celibacy itself were chiefly a matter of interhuman rela-tionships and apostolic freedom. Here, as elsewhere in human life, faulty premises yield faulty conclusions. The Celibate Context As a dedicated ~vay of life, a permanent ideal embraced for the King-dom, consecrated virginity/celibacy~ appears for the first time.on the face of the earth in the persons of Mary and her Son. It is a 'theological ~eality in the etymological sense of that word: its meaning is found only in God and it can be known only from his lips. Although they may be helpful in an ancillary way, psychology and sociology of themselves know nothing of consecrated celibacy. The celibate is grasped by the Lord God in a manner so radically new that his whole life undergoes a basic reorientation. All men and women are to be oriented toward God as their raison d'etre, but most reach him q shall use the two terms interchangeably even though strictly speaking they do differ. In every case the adjective, consecrated or dedicated, is supposed. Virginity is the preferred biblical term, while celibacy enjoys common modern usage. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality through the intimate and human sharing called marriage. The celibate on the other hand omits this sharing in order to respond to another more deeply intimate and divine sharing. Even one who may not be able to see the ¯ significance of these profoundly mysterious words can readily perceive their fundamental radicality. It is this fundamental radicality that must be grasped before we can understand what friendship should and should not be between celibate persons of the same or diverse sexes. Until we know how these persons relate to God we do not grasp how they relate to one another. Without this context, discussions of friendship are not likely to be on a much more elevated level than those of the syndicated advice columns found in the daily newspaper. Virginity, a Privileged Sphere of the Sacred Virginity is a vocation, a new vocation, a privileged vocation. To ap-preciate this fact we must refresh out understanding of the biblical concept ofqadosh, the holy, the sacred. We moderns tend to equate the word, holy, with virtuous. For us the holy person is the morally good person: patient, chaste, gentle, honest. For the ancient Hebrew, ttie "holy" is the set-apart person or thing. One was consecrated, holy, not primarily because he was virtuous (though that would be supposed), but because he was reserved for the service of the Lord God. All holiness derives from the utterly holy One. God is totally trans-cendent, totally other, even though entirely immanent in his creation. One becomes holy in this sense when he approaches the burning otherness of the Lord, when he is therefore set apart from the ordinary, the everyday, the merely finite. God's people, for example, are a holy people because they are selected from all the nations of the earth and set apart for him. This is the sense of 1 P 2:9: "You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a consecrated nation, a people set apart to sing the praises of God who called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light." Continence was practiced in the old dispensation before a priest par-ticipated in the temple liturgy or soldiers went off to the holy war (which shared something of a liturgical enterprise), not because sexual relations in marriage were bad, but because they were of the humdrum, ordinary life. Sexual intercourse was avoided at these times because it was of t, his world, whereas the priest or soldier was to enter the sacred sphere of Yahweh. He was to engage in something qadosh, holy,set apart, and thus he prepared himself by removing himself from the everyday occupations of marriage and daily life. When ther(fore, St. Paul speaks of the virgin as being holy in body and spirit he is not talking first of all of her moral goodness, though that is not excluded. He is saying that she, unlike the married woman or man, is set apart for the sacred sphere of the Lord God. As a virgin she need not be concerned with the dozens of duties that are the normal round for a wife 836 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 who cares for husband, children, household. She can give "undivided attention to the Lord" insofar as she is not burdened with the concern for this world that is necessarily entailed in familial duties and sexual relations. By calling the virgin holy, qadosh, St. Paul is not saying that she is virtuous while the married woman is not. Both are to be morally good. The dif-ference is that, as married, the one lives in the sphere of this world, while the other lives in the sphere of the Lord. This language and thought pattern are expressed by Jesus himself in his priestly prayer at the Last Supper. He says that neither he nor his select disciples are of this world (Jn 17:14, 16). He "consecrates" himself, makes himself holy, set apart, so that they too may be set apart in the truth (Jn 17:19). Jesus belongs to the privileged sphere of the Father in a preeminent way. He is reserved for the Father alone and so he declined an earthly marriage. His food was to do the will of the Father and nothing else (Jn 4:34). He could not have given the attention to this world that marriage requires. The celibate is celibate precisely as Jesus was and for the same reasons. The celibate, the virgin is a man or woman who, while living on planet earth and involved with its joys and sorrows, its hopes and burdens, is none-theless a person set apart. He belongs to the sphere of the transcendent, which is the sphere of the infinite, the other, the Lord God. This is one reason magisterial documents indicate that the primary orientation of re-ligious life is not engagement in an external apostolate but rather prayer, penance, gospel example.2 The religious vows afford a freedom for uni-versal love and apostolic involvement, yes, but that freedom is second to a prior freedom for a direct love-prayer relationship to God himself. The first commandment remains first, and the second remains second. Celibacy, an Excluding Fullness3 Celibacy for the kingdom (the only type we envision here) is not first of all non-marriage. It is a fullness in its own right. In a similar manner the earthly marriage of Susan to Philip is not first of all a non-marriage to Robert or William. A religious or priest does not see his consecration at all ade-quately until it appears as a positive fullness in its own right. The person with the celibate charism has been grasped by the Lord for a special, direct relationship. God takes the initiative and so orientates this person that he (she) "cannot" give a marital attention to another human being. The authentically married person experiences a similar "cannot" in relation to others than his spouse. The married man could physically attempt marriage to another woman than his wife but it would do violence to his being. The ~See Christus Dominus #33 and Renovationis causam, 4~2. aA more complete treatment of this section may be found in my article, "Celibacy As Full-ness," REWEW VOR REL~C~Ot~S, January, 1975, pp. 88-100. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality / 83? celibate could likewise attempt marriage but it would do violence to his person. God so captures the genuine virgin that she cannot but focus her being on the Lord's affairs and give him her undivided attention. In spiritual direction of religious one sees instances where this cannot is completely obvious. Virginity/celibacy is an exclusive God-orientation, a focusing on "the one thing," a fullness in its own right. From this positive reality flows the negative, the non-marriage. The healthy celibate appreciates and values the beauty, attractiveness, goodnesses of the opposite sex, but he appreciates and values even more the immeasurably greater beauty, attractiveness and goodness of God himself. The virginal heart is a large heart, a heart so large that earthly marriage cannot fill it. Erroneous Premises Many, perhaps most, significant differences among religious in recent years are fundamentally due to widely different presuppositions. An ob-vious example is one's ecclesiology. If one person wholly embraces the ecclesiology of Vatican Council II and another that of liberal Protestantism, ¯ it can hardly be surprising that they entertain basically different notions of what religious life is. Whatever one thinks about celibate friendships, it is quite certain that his thoughts stem from underlying premises. We may be aware or unaware of the explicit forms of those premises, but there is no doubt that we have them. A good tree produces good fruit and a bad tree produces bad fruit (Mt 7:17). Sound premises, roots, produce sound conclusions (provided the rest of the reasoning process is correct) and faulty premises produce faulty conclusions. Some of our problems in the area of celibate friendships are the presuppositions. It is no doubt worthy of note that not a few of these presuppositions are departures from Catholic teaching. I shall mention here several of these erroneous premises. This is not the place to develop my observations at length. Anyone moderately versed in theology will recognize that with some of them we are dealing with re-jections of the teachings of the Church. After we have cleared the air we shall sketch positively what a beautiful celibate friendship is like. First, the faulty premises. 1 .) "Close celibate relationships have no significant connection with the quality of prayer life." If a connection is supposed, little is made of it. The writer or speaker seems quite unaware of the primary orientation of vir-ginity to prayer, and he makes little of the tie-up between depth of prayer and the reality of friendship. The latter he seems to think ¯is simply a psychological matter which is quite accessible to human reason. 2.) "Genuine love between the sexes is common and easy to come by." We may note about this premise that psychologists themselves point out on purely natural grounds that a capacity for genuine love between the sexes is rare. Even more to our purposes is the teaching of the New Testament 1~31~ / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 that the new Christic love is naturally impossible, not simply rare. Only if we have been emptied of our maze of selfishnesses and converted by the eternal Word of God and born into his new life can we love others sincerely (1 P 1:22-23). Popular discussions of celibate sexuality seem not to know this. This is a fatal error. 3.) "The religious vocation may be temporary, and hence dating may rightly lead to marriage." I have not seen one sound psychological or theological argument among the many produced in recent years to support the theory of temporary vocation. This is not the place to trace out the solid case for permanent vocation. It may suffice for our purposes simply to state that the Catholic Church all through her history has held that the vocation to the counsels is permanent. 4.) "Genital sexual activity in celibate life is not nece.ssarily repre-hensible." Hence, those who hold this premise feel masturbation, intimate touches between friends, perhaps even sexual intercourse are not always wrong. It may be sufficient to note about this position that most people find it shocking, and that it entails a rejection of a large portion of Catholic sexual morality. One wonders what founders and foundresses would have said about these thoughts of their spiritual children. 5.) "Marriage and celibacy are of equal effectiveness in freeing for the kingdom." This premise is a rejection of Jesus' and Paul's teaching (Lk 18:29-30; 1 Co 7:32-38), as exegetes who have no axe to grind readily point out. The premise is of course also a rejection of the teaching of the Council of Trent and that of Vatican Council II. 6.) "The religious woman should display her femininity, or, as one writer put it, she should look 'sexy' " (in some sense he did not define). Only one who is innocent of real life (what, for example, many men are likely to think and say of this type of "virgin"), would make this sort of statement. One may wonder here, too, what our best examples of deepest feminine beauty would think of this idea: Agnes, Agatha~ Catherine of Siena. Teresa of Avila, Maria Goretti and a host of others. 7.) ,"Almost any friendship between a celibate man and woman is to be viewed as similar to those between saints." Merely to advert to the sen-tence is to see how untrue it is. No comment is needed. Signs of Genuine Friendship Even the most uncommitted scholar, well informed in the area of saints and canonization processes, will agree that the Church does not place her seal of approval on any celibate friendship. This undebatable fact suggests that there are significant differences between the holy and the unholy re-lationship. One may, if he wishes, introduce a third category, the "spiri-tually neutral" friendship, i.e., one in which there is no obviously sinful activity and yet in it no one would be inclined to consider either party especially saintly. It may be doubted in at least many cases whether such a "neutral friendship" would long remain merely neutral. It is likely that it Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality will either slowly dissolve or become more or less unholy. We humans are like that. I shall consider here the signs of the genuine friendship. If some readers are inclined to question these signs, I ask only one favor: read the lives of the saints and then judge whose position reflects their attitudes and prac-tice. All of us ordinary people are subject to error. In matters like this we are inclined either to exaggerate the gospel or to dilute it. And being sinners, ,most of us are far, more likely to dilute than to exaggerate. I trust that no one of us is so arrogant as to suppose that he knows better than the saints how the gospel is to be lived in concrete life. Their lives have the authentic seal of the Church upon them and ours do not. This is no slight difference. We may take it as a general norm that a genuine friendship is immersed in God, honestly immersed in him. It is a living of the universal Pauline principle that whatever we do, eating, drinking or anything else, we do to the glory of God (1 Co 10:31). This is easy to say in the morning offering but it is"not easy to live. Nevertheless I am supposing here that celibate friend-ship is a love of the Holy Spirit and as such is immersed in Jesus' love for all men and women. In a sense it is a participation in that love: "Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus" (Jn 11:5). Every celibate is to love as he loved. In that way and in no other. Honesty here is not easy. The first sign of this honest authenticity is that God not only was, but remains the first concern of each party to the friendship. It is not siinply that God was once upon a time their prime concern when they engaged in spiritual direction ora common apostolic enterprise. Right now he is their chief love. They would do nothing, absolutely nothing to displease him or to divide their hearts. This implies that each person is a man or woman of deep prayer. They take contemplative prayer seriously and are at least growing in it. They are not content with vocal prayer alone, even the excellent vocal prayer of the Liturgy, of the Hours. We can see why this sign is crucial when we recall the context of celibacy we considered above. Religious and priests who do not really understand their vocation and love it deeply are hardly capable of celibate friendship. This may be a funda-mental reason why some of the writing and speaking on this subject is so defective: it lacks roots and orientation. The second sign is a growing commitment to the celibate gift. God is a God of fidelity and he expects fidelity in us. The celibate charism is given permanently, not for a few years. Both the charism and a genuine friendship are gifts of the one Holy Spirit. He does not contradict himself. He who gives the permanent gift of celibacy does not then turn around0and chip away at it in a relationship between possessors of the gift. Hence if a priest and/or religious begin seriously to consider a dispensation from vows and possible marriage, the love is no longer a love of the Holy Spirit. The spiritual life is one integrated whole. It hangs together. A beautiful friend-ship strengthens chastity, perfect chastity. It prompts each party to want the celibate dedication more strongly and to be entirely faithful to it. 840 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 The third sign is non-exclusiveness, non-possessiveness. It is true that the universal love of the virgin does not mean that she (he) does not love individual persons. No one is to love others only as a kind of global mass. Like all others the celibate is to love unique individuals, but unlike the married he loves without exclusiveness. Marital love is possessive, but celibate love is not. Marital love as marital centers on one person and one alone, even though the married are to love others with a general love. Celibate love as celibate is universal, and a deep friendship with one in-dividual does not erase celibate universality. This is why a Teresa of Avila would be happy to know that Jerome Gratian has another deep, close friend. She does not love him possessively, exclusively. A religious or priest who resents another close friend lacks something of the love of the Holy Spirit. Our next sign is closely allied to the previous one. Genuine friendship promotes universal warmth. Not only is there no exclusivity or posses-siveness, but each party finds that he goes out more warmly to all people. Cordiality, warmth, helpfulness is not reserved to one's friend. This person lives the Pauline admonition to the Romans, "treat everyone with equal kindness" (Rm 12:16). Friends ought not to assume easily that they are living this admonition. It takes a great deal of detachment, self-emptying, to go out as warmly to others as to a special friend. We may recall that 1 P 1:22-23 taught that authentic love in community requires a conversion. And we ought not too easily suppose we have been thoroughly converted. Afinal sign is that in authentic celibate friendship the frequency and length of visits are limited. I shall not cite quantitative limits, but I may say that a man or woman of prayer knows instinctively what is too much in the area of time spent together and what is too much in the area of signs of affection. Again one need only think of the saints. Normal men and women who spend too much time together or are too demonstrative in their af-fection soon have a chastity problem. The Need-Relationship Experience indicates that when many young religious find themselves close to another person they quite automatically consider the closeness to be love. This is especially true of young women. When before too many months or years pass the closeness slowly vanishes, they are not only surprised, but sometimes crushed. Many of these relationships are nothing more than need relationships. One individual finds another to be attractive, interested, concerned. And perhaps the other finds the first to be such also. Then one or both find that the other answers real needs for attention, security, warmth, sharing of problems, pains, aspirations. They are close ¯ because needs are being met. This need-relationship is not necessarily bad. But it is not yet love. Love does not dissipate in time. A mere need-friendship does dissipate when the need disappears or is met by another person. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality / We annot emphasize too strongly what we noted above as the opinion of psychologists, namely, that a capacity for genuine love between the sexes is rare. Need-closeness is not rare. Love is. Real love demands I. conversion, being born of the word of the everlasting God. This is why ¯ genmne celibate friendship happens only when deepening prayer happens. This islanother reason, too, why some recent writings on celibate sexuality are so superficial and consequently misleading. / Implications //We are now prepared to suggest implications that flow from our dis-cUssion. of context, premises and signs. Some religious may well be sur- Jprised that I feel it necessary to indicate these implications so plainly. While others who are well aware of our situation may be saddened, they will not be surprised. Our first consequence is that there is no such thing as a valid "third way," namely some sort of combination of celibacy and marriage, that is, physical closeness and intimacy without marital commitment. It should be said, of course, that what has been meant by the third way is itself a fuzzy spectrum of relationships all the way from dubious friendships to uncom-mitted sexual intercourse. And, it may be noted, this spectrum of rela-tionships has itg defenders from one end of it to the other. Why do I say that there is no such thing as a third way? There are two clear vocations on this score, marriage and celibacy/virginity. A third, marital-virginity, is an illusion. The whole twenty-century history of Christian virginity has seen deep friendships and profound love, but the Church has never set her stamp of approval on a third way. A least acquaintance with the saints makes this clear. Further, one need only review all that has been said thus far in this article. None of it remotely suggests a third way. Our second implication concerns dating. I have found that a religious and a priest who go out to dinner socially together (or share some other recreation) are likely to object to calling the engagement a date. I am not at this point overly concerned about the semantics of the matter, but I may note that these people for some odd reason resist terminology commonly accepted in our day. Almost everyone calls this kind of outing between two unmarried people a date. Whatever the name, this practice has its ardent defenders. It is not simply something done through mistaken judgment and then regretted, That it often ends up in marriage is not surprising. (And that this is a normal, good consequence is also defended.) What is wrong about all this? A number of things. First, the celibate charism is a permanent gift. One who has accepted the gift through vow is to honor his commitment. Vows are to be k~pt. The celibate may not marry, and he ought not to put himself in circumstanc'es that normally lead to marriage. If one responds by thinking or saying, "I have no intention to marry and there is no danger in our dating," I would answer that if the two ~142 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 persons are normal and persist in their relationship they are going to have a chastity problem. If they are not normal, they already have a problem. Then there is the question of scandal. One writer, admitting that many people in our society are scandalized in seeing religious and priests dating, expiessed the hope that one day our fellow citizens would come to see that a man and a woman can go out together with some other purpose than an eventual genital relationship. To be more clear, I think he should have said that he hopes the ordinary man and woman of our day will come to see that a platonic friendship is a likely explanation~ of why a priest and sister may date. This hope is naive. Anyone familiar with our sex-saturated world recognizes that this "likely explanation" is becoming more and more re-mote. I have met aremarkable woolliness of thought on this score of scandal. A sister will maintain that if people see anything wrong in her going out to dinner with a man, that is their problem, not hers. They must, she thinks, have unchaste minds to think of anything else of a platonic or merely business relationship. This view is innocent of reality in two. ways. The first innocence regards the types of scandal~. There is such a thing as pharisaical scandal, namely, that which people take when there is no least reasonable basis for it. This kind we may disregard. The other is what we usually mean, namely, when our action is such that in the normal understanding of.people there is basis for seeing something amiss in it. This kind we may not disregard. And this leads us to the second innocence in this woolly view. The person who holds it seems unaware that in our contemporary society a man and woman who.go out together are ordinarily viewed as either a) married, b) thinking of possible marriage remotely or proximately with this person or some other or c) doing something together but only as a part of a genital sexual relationship. It is. true that many people would admit that the two may have only a platonic interest in each other, but that is not the likely understanding of why they date. Now if th, ese people are scandalized when they see two consecrated celibates dating, their scandal is not pharisaical, that is, without solid basis in normal society. They ought not to judge that the two have sinned or plan to, but they are not wrong in think!ng what I have expressed in the above (a), (b), (c) sentence. It is important to notice about this scandal matter that people need not be sure that there is sexual sin between dating religious. Scandal is given if suspicions are aroused through a normal understanding that there may indeed be something amiss. The work of priests and religious for the king-dom is seriously undermined if people begin to think they are leading double lives, posing public!y as celibates and privately living as married or some-thing approaching this. The Church is severely damaged by suspicions like these. Priests and religious have no right to furnish a basis for them. We may be reminded of the splendid example of St. Paul. He refused :to scandalize "the weak" (i.e., those with erroneous consciences about eating Celibate Friendship." llluMon and Reality food offered to idols) even though what he was doing was perfectly per-missible[ He does not callously say "that is their problem." Rather he remarkslthat Christ died'for this weak brother and Paul will never cause his ruin. "That is why," says the apostle, "since food can be the occasion of t my brother's downfall, I shall never eat meat again in case I am the cause of my br~other s downfall (1 Co 9:7-13)¯ Dedicated religious have this same sensitivity. In no way will they sow the seeds of suspicion in the minds of their bro~thers and sisters, whether the latter be weak or strong. Our ~inal implication bears on maturity, chronological and spiritual, in ~ts bearl.ng on the question of deep cehbate friendship. If one reviews what we havelsaid about the context and signs of a beautiful relationshihpe, will easily see" a problem: are young religious, priests, seminarians really de-veloped/ enough, psychologically and spiritually, to be capable of what we are talking' about? It goes without saying that no one can cite a mathematical norm oriage at which people are mature enough to enter upon more than a mere ne, ed-relationship. In any event young people should remember that ¯ a capacity for genuine love among all age groups is not common and they . ought not to be easily persuaded that they themselves are already so capa- . ble. Young people especially are prone to mere need-relationships which they m~stakenly interpret as love. I am not saying that the young cannot love genmnely. But I am saying that no one, young or old, can love w~thout hawng Been converted¯ And no one loves deeply w~thout deep conversion. Thislis why prayer is absolutely crucial to the whole question of celibate friendsliip.' Those who write and speak about this matter and pay scant ¯ I . attention to the prayer-context are s~mply bypassing the core ~ssue. Vt r-ginity f~r Christ has' depths of which psychology has not dreamed. That man or woman alone is capable of a deep friendship who is already deeply (or at least is growing in depth) in communion with the source of all love, the God who is love. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.~.B.T. and Carla Przybilla, O.S.F. Sister Mary Vincentia is Assistant Professor at the National Catholic School of Social Service; the Catholic University of America; Washington, DC 20064. Sister Carla is Executive Director of the National Religious Formation Conference; 1330 Massachusetts Ave., N.W.; Washington, DC 20005. The authors wish to acknowledge and thank Rev. Ladislas Orsy, S.J., for reviewing this article and for his helpful comments. The whole future of the Earth, as of religion, seems to me to depend on the awakening of our faith in the future. Teilhard de Chardin Today, with the growing consciousness of the personhood of woman and with the re-structuring of her roles in both society and in the Church, women religious are providing leadership in spearheading and developing new and exciting ministries designed to meet rapidly changing social needs. There appears to be a new perspective, based on a model of collaboration and interdependence, which captures both identity and purpose, while at the same time engaging in a dialogical process with the world. This vibrant movement, in response to the needs of people, and within the context of the charismatic beginnings of religious communities, is not only transforming the forms of ministry of women religious in the United States, but is also impacting on the orientation and style of preparation required for ministries of the future. The future however, is in the present. A futuristic view of ministry requires preparation for today's demands. We are living in a time of such 844 Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View / !i45 accelerat ~d change that it is estimated that people will undergo retraining ~ . for occup, at~onal needs many times during a lifetime. Not only will many religious have to re-tool for today's work but a totally new orientation will be necess,ary to respond appropriately to ever-changing needs. Professional schools, i,n their socialization processes, are emphasizing education geared to the self-directed learner, preparing the adult learner for a major constant in our culture--social change. In the helping professions this means creat-ing a readiness to handle continuous and rapid change as well as skill in generating new models of helping. Incorporated within this orienting frame is the closely related concept of monitoring and assessing service effect¯ iveness. Has this trend fully impacted on religious communities, in their socialization processes and in preparation for second careers? Cer-tainly, it has influenced a number in their approaches to ministry. More still have to ~ confront this major dynamic influencing the mission of the Church in moder~n society. It vitally touches every area of "personpower": re-cru~ tment policies, qualifications needed for the various service modalities, the capacity to ~ntegrate the spiritual and rehg~ous dimensions m service, and the tra~mng modaht~es for new m~mstnes. What are the personal re-quiremedts necessary to meet new and changing situations? A look at the emergln.g~ forms of mlmstnes may provide some answers. As Rahner states, ttiese new models of service, similar to the secular professions, are concretelexpressions of the spiritual and corporal works of mercy.~ The p~urpose' of this article is to examine the developing forms of min-istry of women religious and to consider their implications for the so-c~ ahzat~on processes, e.g. the formation programs of religious congrega-tions as ~well as for re-tooling for new and re-focused careers. An attempt also wiillbe made to provide an organizing schema, a conceptual frame-work, to,~ analyze the major components of these socialization processes within a [context of future needs. The data presented here were collected during the preliminary phase of ¯ a larger study which is underway on the new careers of women religious, related areas of role conflict, and coping styles utilized in conflict resolu-tion. 2 Thlis first phase, a survey of 367 religious congregations of women in the United States, sought to locate the population of religious in new works, that is, ~n works which were new to their congregations.3 Communities ~Karl Rahner. "'Practical Theology and Social Work in the Church," Theological Inves-tigations, ~/ol. 10, translated by David Bourke (New York: Herder and Herder, 1973), pp. 267-68. I , 2This study is being conducted by Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T. with the Nationa~ Religious Formation Conference, Washington, D.C. Sister Mary Vincentia developed the research design and Stster Carla processed the data for this preliminary phase. The article was written by the former and the final version was completed jointly. 3The istin~ of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, which included major supe-riors of 367icongregations, was used for the mailing. The time-frame of the survey was summer to fall, 1976. 1~46 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 were asked, in an open-ended format, to indicate the new ministry of each sister. There was a 94.60% rate of response which would seem to indicate, along with the many supportive statements, a high level of interest among religious communities in this area. A total of 5,892 religious was reported by their communities to be engaged in new works. ¯ Although this survey was not intended to be an exhaustive study, it was rich in information on developing works among sisters. The data, therefore, were analyzed and classified into broad categories of ministry. These findings would seem to have value in that they provide an empirical base, suggesting future directions and rough indicators for some future projec-tions. New ministries, as used here,, refer to forms which were new to religious communities. In considering the findings, it is important to note that a number of communities indicated that they have no new works, that their congregations have always been involved in what many consider new directions. The non-r~spondent group may also be composed of those who have consistently been involved in what is considered new by religious today. For example, in a recent study on sister social workers profession-ally educated in the United States during the period 1962 to 1972, forty-six sisters or the largest, number trained in any religious community were members of the Missionary Servants of the Most Blessed Trinity.4 None of these, however, are reflected.in the findings discussed here since social work is traditional apostolate of this community. Similarly, the large num-ber of sisters in this community, and in a few others, in parish work is not represented in the data since, historically, these communities have been engaged in this type of work. New Forms of Ministry The proportion of women religious in the broad categories of ministry are shown in Table 1. This typology follows the familiar classification of works according to the fields of health, education, and welfare (here termed social ministry). Other emerging forms of ministry did not fit neatly into these general categories and, therefore, were presented separately. Parish work, for .example, which involves a plurality of ministries, crosses the categorical boundaries of health, education, and social ministry. A special category was constructed for the spiritual ministries which have been in-creasing over the past few years. They clearly represent a cluster of spiritual and religious functions (such as directed retreats and prayer movements) generally performed in Church-related structures rather than in exclusively non-ecclesial settings. Similarly, supportive Church-related 4Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, A Study ~of Self-Role Congruence and Role-Role Congruence on the Integration of the Religious Role and the Social Work Role of the Sister Social Worker. Unpublished DSW dissertation, the Catholic University of America, Washington, D.C. 1974, p. 247. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View / 1t47 ministries are surfacing more explicitly and distinctly associated with some level of Church structure or Church work. An example would be the role of the diocesan consultant. These categories, particularly, give striking evidence of the shifting roles of women in the Church. Table 1 Proportion of Women Religious in New Forms of Ministries According to the Type of Ministry* Religious Type of Ministry No. % Health Ministry I 112 18.87 Education Ministry 1334 22.64 Social Ministry 1912 32.45 Parish Ministry ' 797 13.53 Supportive Church-related Ministries 384 6.52 Spiritual Ministry 266 4.5 I Other 87 1.48 5892 100.00 *Refers to forms of ministries which were new to religious congregations of women at the time of the survey. As can be seen, the social ministries represent the largest group of services provided by women religious among these new forms. Almost one-third of the survey population were engaged in a form of social ministry, 10% more than those in education and close to 15% more than those involved in the health field. An interesting piece 6f data was the small number of sisters actually engaged in such works as business, clerical work, and sales in strictly non-ecclesial setti.ngs. Although a large number of others worked in non-sectarian structures, such as hospitals, they were most frequently ehgaged in pastoral work in the human service fields. The dominant theme which ran through the findings was se~r, vice, often with a highly skilled and profes-sional orientation, within a framework of ministry or mission. From the comments of some communities, form of service and perspective of min-istry were clearly within the context of their charismatic beginnings. The categories in Table 1 will be elaborated more fully in the discussion that follows. New Forms of Health Ministry The largest single category in the health field was pastoral care in Cath-olic institutions--hospitals, .nursing homes, or other group facilities. As Table 2 illustrates, a forceful trend is noted when pastoral care in Catholic settings is combined with pastoral care in non-Church related settings: almost one-half of the new forms of health ministries are in the field of pastoral care. Interestingly, too, more than one-fourth of the sisters in new health ministries are providing nursing or allied medical services in public 1~41~ / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 or private institutions not sponsored by the Church. Thus, almost 45% of the sisters included in the survey in the health field offer services in other than Catholic institutions. This proportion is even higher when combined with non-Church related community services. Table 2 Women Religious Engaged in Forms of Health Ministries New to Their Congregations Religious Ministries No. % Community-based Health Care (nursing and related allied 202 18.17 services) Health Care in Non-Church-related Institutions* 289 25.99 Pastoral Ministry in Catholic Institutions* 363 32.64 Pastoral Ministry in Non-Church-related Institutions 192 17.27 Other (Physicians, dentists, other specialists/consultants) 66 5.93 Total 1112 100.00 *Refers to hospitals, nursing homes, and the larger group facilities. As would be expected;.a large proportion, or almost 20% are in in-novative community and neighborhood-based health programs (such as public health, visiting nurses, and outreach clinics, both in Catholic and non-Church related settings). This group consists largely of nurses and allied professionals. Interestingly, this trend somewhat parallels that in social work although there was a sharper reversal from institutional to community settings in that field. Close to two-thirds of the sister social workers were in institutional work prior to Vatican II in contrast to over two-thirds in community-based programs after Vatican II: No doubt this trend in the hea!th field would be greater if more Church-related commu-nity- based programs were available within Catholic structures as they are in social work, e.g. Catholic Charities agencies and other neighborhood and parish-based social service and social action programs. Also, it was inter-esting that close to 85% of the population studied provided services within Church structures and only 6% saw services in the public sector as an important future role of the sister social worker. Leadership within the framework of the Church, as long as these structures were available and viable for effective and relevant service, was viewed as a dominant future role. Close to sixteen were physicians or dentists; when combined with psy-chiatrists (see Table 4), we can see a more visible trend in the medical ministries. A small number were speech and music therapists. 5Joseph, op. cit. pp. 102, 174. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View 1149 New Forms of Education Ministries More than one-fifth of the religious in the survey population continued in new and specialized forms of the education ministry. This is not sur-prising since the majority of religious have professional training in this field and many communities hold education as integral to their mission. Most interestingly, however, were the innovative and creative forms taking shape. As reflected in Table 3, close to 40% are specializing in religious education, which would seem to be an important role for the religious of the future. Almost one-third teach in schools in the inner city and urban areas, reflecting the traditional concern of communities for the poor and culturally deprived. Close to one-fifth were in a variety of specialized forms of education to the physically and emotionally handicapped, school drop-outs, minority and bilingual groups, and a range of adult education pro-grams. Table 3 Women Religioas Engaged in Forms of Edncation Ministries New to Their Congregations Religious Ministries No. % Campus Ministry 86 6.45 Communications 67 5.02 Library Work 56 4.20 Religious Education 530 39.73 Teaching in Seminaries and Theologates 25 1.87 Specialized Forms of Instruction 252 18.89 Inner City Teaching 318 23.84 Total 1334 100.00 A developing trend in communications was discernible, revealing some interesting works. Thirteen sisters were involved in very technical work with the media, TV and radio, while fifty-four sisters worked with Catholic and secular newspapers/periodicals in writing, illustrating, and publishing. ¯ New Forms of Social Ministry It has been made forcefully clear in recent years, by both the magis-terium and the Council, that the social ministries are essential aspects of the Mission of the Church.~ Perhaps the most significant trends in new min-istries are, in this area, not unrelated to the directions in society and de-velopments in the Church. This field, which reflected the largest number of new forms, has been defined variously in the literature. Very broadly, it ~Eugene A. Mainelli. "'The Parish Community Becoming: Theological Reflections," Social Thought, i (Fall. 1975). p. 15. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 is viewed as comprising health, education, and welfare. Most specifically, as used here, it includes those activities which focus primarily on the social dimension of human services: the response to socio-personal needs as well as social justice and advocacy efforts directed toward humanizing and transforming societal structures,r As Table "4 shows, the largest proportion of sisters engaged in social ministries, over one-third, were in social work. These data are consistent with Joseph's findings: as many sisters were professionally trained, in social work from 1970 to 1972, inclusive, as were in the previous decade,s It is not surprising that religious would select this field as it call for skills in working with both' personal and social needs. With the two-fold emphasis today on the person and impacting social systems, it provides opportunity for both service and social action. The sisters in this survey were social workers in school and hospital settings as well as in community-neighborhood pro-grams which reflected reaching out to others in a variety of ways. More than one-half were in Catholic Charities agencies, in both traditional family and child care services, e.g. family counseling, foster care and adoption ser-vices, and in community organization work, crisis intervention, and other forms of outreach. More than 30% of the religious in social ministries worked with minority groups and rural poverty programs, evidencing out-reach as well as justice efforts. Table 4 Women Religious Engaged in Forms of Social Ministries New to Their Congregations Religious Ministries No. % Prison, Probation, Police Work 99 5.18 Social Justice Work 168 8.79 Social Work 651 34.05 Psychiatric, Psychological. Therapeutic Work 82 4.29 Work with Minority Groups 376 19.67 Rural Poverty Work 204 10.67 Alcoholism and Drug Addiction 116 6.07 Youth Work 114 5.96 Day Care Programs 28 1.46 Group Homes and Specialized Care Facilities 32 1.67 Other 42 2.19 Total i912 100.00 Although many in the above categories were actively engaged in social justice, advocacy, and social action--as related to the groups served-- 7Cedric W. Tilberg. "'The Social Ministry of the Congregation," Lutheran Social Welfare Quarterly, Vi (December, 1966), p. 8. 8Joseph, op. cit., p. 90. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View almost 10% of the sisters ,wer~ involved exclusively in these activities. Most of these sisters worked in social justice centers or on special commissions directed to justice and peace. Eighteen, however, were in political min-istries or appointed to government positions at state or local levels, while twenty-three were lawyers, aids, or legal advisors to the poor. A number organized legislative networks to promote grassroots leadership and create political power. Sixty-six worked in halfway houses for alcoholics or parolees or in group homes for pre-delinquent or delinquent youth. Another thirty-two served in homes for the mentally or physically handicapped or the emotionally disturbed. Slightly over 5% of the sisters worked with prisoners/parolees and their families, did probation work, or were on the police force, a relatively new area of ministry and one rich in service potential. The "'other" category consisted of those engaged in natural family planning, Birthright, housing projects, and shop~ for the poor. The liberation of the oppressed, as a pivotal and actigie concern of the Social Mission of the contemporary Church, is vividly clear in these data. Neff Forms of Church-Related Ministry Table 5 shows that almost one-half of the religious working in supportive Church-related works were specialists in the various fields of ministry, e.g. education and health, who acted as consultants to diocesan programs. More than one-third held offices in Church organizations at national and inter-national levels, utilizing the competencies of religious in important lead-ership roles. Three sisters were canon lawyers, twenty-three were identified as vicars for religious, and twelve were in tribunal work, no doubt a significant future indicator for the role of the ecclesial woman, These data represent a growing trend for women to assume leadership positions at all levels in the Church. Table 5 Women Religious Engaged in Forms of Church-Related Ministries New to Their Congregations Ministries National and International Offices in Church Organizations Vicars for Religious and Canon Lawyers Marriage Tribunal Work Diocesan Consultants/Specialists Ecumenical Consultants Total Religious No. % 126 32.8 I 36 9.38 12 3.12 189 49.22 21 5.47 384 100.00 Parish Ministry There is a:remarkable movement in the Church toward parish ministry, 1~52 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 especially among women religious, markedly illustrated in these data.~ The parish may be viewed as the Church in mission; it is here that the Church's mission is concretized. Rahner, in discussing the parish, states: ¯ . . the Church will make its impact as a present reality there where the presence of Christ is made real . Here the Christian of tomorrow will come to realize the true nature of the Church. Of course such a community, which feels itself to be the concrete realization of the Church as achieved through word and sacrament, will be conscious of being united to all other communities which likewise are the same Church . "~ It is in the parish-community that the Christian of the future will experience the Church in word and sacrament. The parish was the largest single category of ministry; 797 sisters were reported as involved in some aspect of parish work. The Parish was actually the only single category in the broad classification of ministries (see Table /), since the data did not lend itself to clearly differentiate among the various forms of parish work. A number, however, did indicate that they were parish associates, assistant pastors, parish workers, home visitors, social ministers, pastoral assistants, eucharistic ministers, parish spiritual directors, and parish team ministers, evidencing the plurality of forms at this level and supporting the need for the team approach. It may also be an index to the role ambiguity often experienced by parish workers and, fur-thermore, may indicate the need for clearer role definitions. Presnail dis-cussed this, detailing the range of roles identified with the parish worker and urging specialization within a framework of the plurality of ministries and personal charisms, competencies, and training. He points to the role am-biguity experienced by the religious educator until the role became more specialized and the boundaries more circumscribed.1~ In recent years, a number of Catholic Charities agencies across the country have reached out to parishes to facilitate social ministries at this level. According to a study that is underway, 206 religious are involved in some way in these parish social ministries, either directly as parish staff affiliated with the agency or as parish workers, not administratively related to the agency but receiving consultation from agency staff.t2 This upsurge in parish ministry is consistent with the findings of Jo-seph. 13 Comparative data, pre- and post-Vatican 1I, on the major apos- ~Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T., "'Christian Social Action," Careers in the Christian Ministry (Washington. D.C.: Consortium Press. 1976), p, 118. ~UKarl Rabner, -The New Image of the Church." Theological Investigations, Vol. X (New York: Herder and Herder, 1973). p. 11. ~Gregory Presnail, "Guidelines for a Parish Worker," Sisters Today (November, 1971), pp. 416-21. ~zSister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T. and Sister Ann Patrick Conrad, M.S.B.T., National Trends in Parish Social Ministry: A Study of Parish Programs Affiliated With Catholic Char-ities Agencies, in process. ~ZJoseph, A Study of Self-Role Congruence and Role-Role Congruence on the Integration of the Religious Role and the Social Work Role of the Sister Social Worker, p. 241. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View / 853 tolates of 108 religious communities, were obtained. The most dramatic change was in parish work. The number ~f religious congregations engaged in parish work at this time increased from 17.35% to 44.90%, close to a 30% oost-Vatican increase. Thus, we can expect---on the basis of these data, a continued upswing in parish work with a greater differentiation among ministry roles and a continued use and refinement of the team approach. The challenge remains to identify and elaborate the emerging patterns of parish ministry. The Spiritual Ministries Spiritual ministries, close to 5% of the new ministries, represented an emerging field in which the religio-spiritual dimension is the primary focus. These are closely related to pastoral ministry, but differ in that generally thry' are performed within church structures rather than in a setting in which one of the helping professions is the host-profession such as the hospital or the social agency. These ministries consisted largely of houses of prayer, retreat work---especially directed retreats, and prayer move-ments. Summary A two-pronged trend is reflected vividly in these data: concern with religious/spiritual aspects of the person (as evidenced in pastoral care, religious education and the directly spiritual ministries) and with the social dimension of human need (noted in the large number of religious engaged in the social ministries). Parish work may be viewed as reflecting both trends as the parish is concerned with socio-religious needs of persons through its developing approaches or team ministries. Deepening insight into the Pauline concept of the plurality of ministries is illustrated remark-ably in the growth in ministries at this level, particularly among women religious. The emphasis on social need was not only reflected in the increase in social ministries but also in the service modalities and organizational patterns in the health and education fields. The upswing in parish work, social work, pastoral care in health settings, and religious educationhin that order--would seem to forecast that these will be important future roles of women religious. A Conceptual Framework for the Study of Formation Programs The literature on adult socialization~4 is rich in its implications for for- ~4Socialization is the process by which one learns the ways of a given group. Often, it is defined as role learning. In adulthood, it refers to training for life or occupational roles. Studies have been done on socialization processes in such professions as nursing and medicine. No published research has been located by the authors on preparation for the role of the woman religious. I]54 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 mation programs in religious communities and provides tools for critical examination and assessment. The work of Brim and Wheeler is particularly useful as it identifies core variables which influence socialization out-comes.~ 5 It suggests a broad conceptual model to study the essential com-ponents of formation and aids in raising questions about current structural patterns, Central concepts are: the recruit or socializee: the candidate; the socializing agency: the religious community; the socializing agent: .for-mation personnel; and, the socialization process: the process of formation. The importance of taking another look at formation programs becomes obvious not only in considering the trends in ministry but in recent work-shop experiences of the National Religious Formation Conference. During workshop meetings, both men and women religious were asked to define the qualities needed for the future religious. Most frequently projected characteristics were: (1)self-direction; (2) the willingness to search, risk, and deal with uncertainty; (3) a deepening spiritual life; (4) a sense of rootedness in the charism of the institute;and, (5) a global mission concern. These characteristics and the new ministries suggest the need for an orienting philosophy of learning geared to the adult learner. Cartwell, in an excellent article on current educational models in formation programs, clearly identifies the need for an integrated cognitive-experiential-devel-opmental approach appropriate to today's social and cultural needs.~6 The proposed approach to learning is the adult learning model, androgogy, which prepares the person for self-direction and on-gbing learning. This approach is grounded in active participation, mutual sharing, and a readiness to learn. It recognizes not only the potential of the recruit but also the learned skills and past experiences which are brought to the new learn-ing situation.~r ~ With the trend awayJfrom institutional forms of ministry to community and parish-based work, many religious are moving from highly structured settings to natural ecological settings which are often ambiguous and lack-ing in role clarity. Such settings require that structures not only be created but implemented effectively and that roles be defined and continuously reclarified. Services at these levels demand creative action and continued innovation. Collaborative team approaches are required, calling for a high degree of skill in interpersonal communication as well as in coping with conflictuai role demands. Competency and evaluation (a trend in our so- 15Orville G. Brim and Stanton Wheeler, Socialization After Childhood (New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1966). ~6Peter W. Cartwell, O.F.M., "Formation--Whither or Whether," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XXXll (September, 1973), p. 1050. ~rMalcolm Knowles, The Adult Learner: Neglected Species (Houston: Gulf Publishing Com-pany, 1973). Preparation ,for New Ministries: A Futuristic View ciety where resources and commodities are scarce) will be essential to assess program effectiveness. Increasingly, then, ministry will require self-directed persons, ready to generate new service modalities, negotiate role demands, and collaborate with others in attempting to find solutions to complex problems. The Recruit-Candidate Very often young people today have broad experiences. Frequently, they are well traveled and view such experiences as important to their on-going development. Generally, those who enter the helping professions have a high degree of commitment to serve the needs of others. Those who would enter a religious community seek to deepen their value-orientation and share similar values with others in community. Many have been ex- :posed to an adult learning style, basically experiential, moving from the realm of the empirical and from skill in doing to the level of abstraction and conceptualization. They freely challenge ideas and existing structures, ex-pecting an openness of response and, themselves, inviting feedback. Where opeaness is absent, confrontation is often heightened. They seek an ex-panding personal development and view some contemporary religious structures as constricting growth potential. The questionmust be raised: Can present structures of many formation programs attract, support, and enhance the goals of these young women? In view of the socialization outcomes required fo~ the new ministries, what personal qualifications are needed in the recruit at entrance?~Selection and socialization processes obviously interact. Etzione states that where both are high, socialization should be effective.18 Space does not permit further discussion of the prospective candidate. It seems sufficient here to raise these basic questions. The Structure Granting the developmental-experiential nature of adult learning, one must consider the environmental or structural conditions which foster it. Organizational arrangements of formation programs will require on-going examination in the light of trends in ministries and related learning needs. A basic assumption of the androgogical model implies change in the self-concept moving from one of dependence, to increasing self-direction.19 When operationalized in structures, this assumption is reflected in mutual trust and collaboration, flexibility, freedom to express differences, and active participation in learning. These structures should be geared to fa- ~SAmitai Etzione, Complex Organizations (New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1961). ~Knowles, op. cit., p. 45. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 cilitate growth and provide experiential as well as didactic learning oppor-tunities, a direction underway in many communities. Self-concept theory and research have demonstrated the impact of ref-erence groups on the self-concept of the person. Where a person constantly receives negative images, a negative concept of self may develop. In the past religious structures emphasized negative feedback, often forming negative self-concepts in religious. Current structures must be realistic, emphasizing positive as well as constructive negative feedback. Such an orientation contributes to a realistic self-concept and confidence in both self-direction and leadership skills. The Socializing Agent Fundamentally, formation personnel must be comfortable with the self-directed contemporary religious. Question must be raised as to appropriate preparation for formation team members. The predominant emphasis has been largely theological while also drawing from the humanistic psychol-ogies. Since the new ministries require an on-going diaiogical process with the world, it would seem that a broadened training would be required drawing from the social sciences and the secular professions. This would highlight the environment, the interaction between the person and the so-cial context--in this situation, the community. The environmental aspects and their influences on the person need to be emphasized. The self is in constant interaction with social structures, both within and outside the community. Formation personnel need to be more aware of the impact of structures on the person in community and how the person can impact on structure, as a basis for mutual and on-going growth and change. The Process The process of socialization, which seeks to identify how a specific role is internalized, has been studied in a number of professions,z° Greater attention needs to be given to this process in formation programs. The work of Kinnane and Preister suggests that the ultimate direction of socialization should be characterized by a movement from dependence and indepen-dence to interdependence; the development from self-centered behavior to social behavior; growth in maturity; and, the increasing integration of re-ligio- spiritual values in ministry.2t Z°Howard Becker, et ~il., eds., Institutions and the Person (Chicago: Aldine Publishers, 1968). ZlJohn F. Kinnane, Career Development for Priests and Religious (Washington, D.C.: CARA, 1970); Steven Preister, "The Professional Socialization of the Seminarian into the Career of Priesthood." Unpublished paper, Catholic University of America, 1976. PreParation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View The formation process involves both formal and informal components. Basically, the formal process occurs in sequential phases, clearly marked by rites of passage or movement from affiliate or candidacy status to the position of novice or of commitment. Informal processes, however, operate and may be identified. It has been observed in one community that religious often proceed from the initial stage with some role ambiguities, to a positive identification with community (often at the beginning of the novitiate) to a negative identification, followed by a more realistic conceptma stage of interdependence in community and the beginning of internalized commit-ment (generally toward the end of the novitiate),z2 Although this was found to be th~ usual process, individual variations in development and regression may occur throughout the process. It does suggest, however, a process of integration and internalization which continues in all adult life. Young religious need to be continuously confronted throughout this process to recognize both positive and negative aspects of the religious community and consider within this context where they are, personally, at a given time as they develop a realistic view of the community and seek to serve within its framework of ministry, they have already begun to internalize their religious commitment. To be fixated in either a positive or a negative phase may well reflect a question of personal commitment within this particular life style. With the complexities of living in society today and the greater demands in ministry, it seems that more attention must be given to the processes of initial and on-going formation. Conclusion In conclusion, religious of the future are now, in fact defining them-selves. This paper has presented indicators for the future role of women religious based on ministries which were identified as new to their con-gregations. An orienting conceptual model was formulated to examine ex-isting struciures and processes of formation programs as well as to raise questions as to how these programs are preparing religious for future roles in ministry. A further question, however, needs to be asked. Although religious communities are intellectually endorsing new ministries, are affective sup-port structures being provided for these newly developing works? These survey findings therefore, compel communities not only to address their newly developing forms of ministry but also to consider the support sys-tems provided for these new directions. 22Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T., "S~cialization in a Religious Community." Un-published paper, Catholic University of America, 1974. This paper was prepared in con-junction with research on the socialization process of one community. Reflections of a "Temporary Monk" Anne Marie Harnett, S.N.J.M. Sister Anne Marie received permission for a "contemplative sabbatical" last year, during which time she resided with, and lived the life of several contemplative communities. Presently she is doing graduate studies in theology and resides at 519 Varnum St., N.W.; Washington, DC 20011. The poet's labor is to struggle with the meaninglessness and silence of the world until he can force it to mean, until he can make the silence answer and the non-being be. It is a labor which undertakes to "know" the world not by exegesis or demonstration or proofs but directly, as a man knows apple in the mouth.1 When I read this paragraph recently, I was excited. It seemed to express what I have been trying to do this year during a "contemplative sabbat-ical." Aboht a y.ear ago, I asked for the opportunity for an extended ex-perience oUsolitude because of a somewhat hazy intuition 'that such an orientation was at the source of any ministry for justice (a large interest of mine) and it was itself a powerful witness to the consumer ~ociety in which we live. ~' I address these reflections particularly to those men and women who" might also feel called to an experience of solitude--to encourage them. I speak to contemplative communities--to thank them for their hospitality to me when I needed to be a "temporary monk." I hope that these few thoughts will encourage contemplative groups of women especially to con-sider this kind of hospitality as a service to the Church. Since September I have been struggling with the meaninglessness and silence--sometimes catching glimpses of the answer and the being--in a seemingly endless game of hide and seek. I have let the various elements of the experience speak to me, wondering at times what all this has to do 1Archibald MacLeish, Poetry and Experience (Boston, 1961), pp. 8-9, in The Courage to Create by Rollo May (New York: Bantam Books, 1976), p. 89. 858 Reflections of a "Temporary Monk" / 859 with ordinary living, let alone with problems of violence, poverty, injustice, the needs and :,:~oblems of people today. Sometimes I have felt anxious and frustrated: c:,.cu joy-filled, occasionally guilty, generally at peace, "r,. year has been. a tapestry. It has provided me with a variety of experiences resulting in changed attitudes and new and keener aware-nesses. Many of the designs iffthis tapestry have not yet been woven, and like the underside of a tapestry, the pattern is not readily visible to me. Because I am always wary of instant experts, of people who spend a few weeks in a foreign country and then lecture or write about the people and culture of that country, I hesitate to say a great deal even about the early part of my adventure in the "desert"; certainly I cannot yet write about my current "Carmelite phase." I would like however to share my reflections on the short experience I had in a Trappist monastery in Mistassini, Quebec. The monks'there have opened their choir to both men and women, and so I had the privilege of sharing fully in their prayer from Vigil at 3:30 A.M. until Compline at 7:30 P.M. Their Office is beautiful inits simplicity. I found that it not only satisfied 'my need.for beauty in worship but that it completed my own prayer; whatever the mood or message of my prayer might have been. The Hours became~for me a stream into which I could jump at various times of the day, a stream which carried: along with it all my hopes, as-pirations and activities. Because chanting Office at 3:30 A.M. is so foreign to most of us, I would like to say a little abotlt Vigil. It was never easy; seldom .was it bright With praise or, comforting in sorrow or pain. It was to me what its name suggests: watching and waiting. I often thought all of this would be absurd if God did not exist, if he were not God with us and for usl Often too I would think of and so pray for other people who-were up for other reasons: those on night shifts, parents with sick children, street people, those with no bed to go to. At other times I would think of people close to me, some of them watching and waiting in a way only they could know; other~ now fully enjoying him for whom we in that church were keeping vigil. Often too I would just manage to be there. Always I knew that all the stars were laughing at our wonder. I became more keenly aware of the apostolic dimension of prayer, both liturgical and personal, knowing that my prayer and that of the monks and other guests extended far beyond the confines of that church. This is so because of the nature of liturgical prayer, because of the eucharist and our faith in its cosmic dimensions~, but also because of what happens in prayer. The experience of a deep need of liberation and healing, the experience of both the presence and the apparent absence of God, and of his absolute fidelity, the relationship of this prayer to daily life with its demands, calls, and responses--all this is a microcosm of the world today with its own great need for liberation and healing, and its search for God whom so many have dismissed or do not know. ~160 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 This experience in prayer brought me new attitudes toward solitude. For some time I had found periods apart renewing and increasingly nec-essary to my well-being. So when I went to Mistassini I considered it under this primarily physical or geographical aspect. Now, while I realize the necessity and appreciate the value of periods of physical solitude, I have come to think of it more as "an enclosure" I carry around with me. It is an inner attitude in line with the thought of Thomas Merton expressed in Contemplation in a Worm of Action. As I understand it, he sees solitude as a probing for truth, first of all in oneself; it is the acceptance of one's identity and of one's lot as given by God. While probing for truth and forming convictions, one seeks the courage to live, to witness in accordance with these convictions. It involves making decisions, consonant with one's inner reality and in the light of God's truth and love.2 I became more aware of the fact that my search and probing is a pil-grimage. Like Abraham I have set forth in the desert hearing the call, "Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and from your father's house to a land that I will show you" (Gn 12:1). While my predominant mood as I set out on this pilgrimage was one of joy in God's presence, yet solitude sometimes brought me fear of the future, an angst fear. This reality I found also described by Thomas Merton: "The man who wants to deepen his existential awareness has to make a break with ordinary existence, and this break is costly. It cannot be made without anguish and suffering. It implies loneliness, and the disorientation of one who has to recognize that the old signposts don't show him his way, and that in fact he has to find the way by himself without a map.''3 Perhaps I will always have to live with this anguish because the old signposts are in fact gone, and the new ones are very hazy. Certainly they will never be as clear-cut and sharply defined as they were in the past. Very likely the way will never be clearly mapped out. Yet I have become more at home with my anxiety and at times even welcome it as an experience of my powerlessness, as a call to total de-pendence on God. Recently I found a passage in The Courage to Create by Rollo May which describes in psychological terms this aspect of solitude. The ex-perience of encounter, encounte¢ implying a deep commitment, always brings anxiety because of the shaking of the self-world relationship which occurs in the encounter. "Our sense of identity is threatened: the world is not as we experienced it before; and since self and world are always cor-related, we no longer are what we were before . The anxiety we feel is temporary rootlessness, disorientation; it is the anxiety of nothingness.''4 In mature creativity anxiety must be confronted if we are to experience joy. 2Thomas Merton, Contemplation in a World of Action (New York: Image Books, 1973), Chapter III, "The Identity Crisis," pp. 75-100. aIbid., p. 126. ~Ibid., p. 107. Reflections of a "Temporary Monk" / 861 I can live with anxiety and anguish, confront them and experience joy because of my faith and trust in God, and because of the love relationship I experience with him. The anxiety is then transformed into resting in him. It' is living in that marvelous gap between what my faith sees and feels and what God knows and is actually accomplishing in me; between my desire to live as he wants me to live, to be the person he wants me to be, and the fulfillment of this desire. It is a living of the words of Isaiah, "See, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? In the desert I make a way, in the wasteland, rivers" (Is 43:9). During the summer just before my sabbatical year I was a journalist at our general chapter which was one of reflection and discernment on our charism and our response to it in the world today. During the c.hapter our foundress was very much alive and present to us; she continued to be present to me during these weeks of solitude. As I reflected on my life as a woman religious and on hers, I saw that she had creative imagination'~ which she used in service to the Church. She consulted the signs of the times and, with eyes wide and in perfect freedom, said yes. This yes meant leaving a respectable and secure position, setting herself and her two com-panions up in an attic, opening a small school with no financial means, embarking on unknown seas in an as yet unfounded community. She said thisyes daily depending totally on God in faith and love. It seems to me that this is the kind of response to which God calls us today: the witness of a life--creative, integrated, with a willingness to risk, dedicated to the gospel. As I write these reflections in my room in the Bronx Carmel, I am looking at a little collection of prints tacked on my wall: La Misereuse accroupie (a woman crouching, possibly in prayer) by Picasso, Christ Mocked by Soldiers by Rouault, The Burghers of Calais and La Pensde by Rodin, the South Rose Window and Lancets from the Cathedral of Chartres. Beside them is the quote, "Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves." The collection symbolizes the strands of life that have brought me here and the threads continually being woven into my solitude, my experience of God. The Christ who is mocked is the crouching woman, the attraction of La Pens~e, the glorious center of the rose window. He is the reason for loving the questions and for being patient with the incompleteness of the answers. He is somewhere in the agony, the stolid acceptance, the chains and the resistance symbolized by the Burghers of Calais. At the same time he is in the beauty and achievement of ihe ensemble. My encounter with this reality brings me back to labor and struggle with the meaningless, the contradictions and the paradoxes. Again I am knock-ing on silence, waiting for being; above all, I am living in hope. ~Leonardo Boff, author of Jesus-Christ Liberateur, says that imagination is the creativity to see humankind become better and richer than the present cultural environment. The Call of Retirement: A Ministry of Elders Jeanne Schweickert, O.S.F. Sister Jeanne is Vice President of Ministry for the School Sisters of St. Francis. Her office is located at 1501 South Layton Blvd.; Milwaukee, Wl 53215. Over the past several years many old people have entered my life in new and powerful ways, the young old, the middle old, and the old old--and as they touched me I experienced the paradoxes of their lives: the hopeful expectations of some, the disillusionment of others; the longing for (he great past and the eager awaiting of death; the joyous celebration of life and the loneliness, fear and despair of day-after-day. It became more and more obvious that as the people I met approached old age, as they moved into retirement, they experienced traumatic mo-ments in their lives, moments that challenged their very personhood. Some time ago I decided to take council with some of the elderly sisters of my community. I invited them to get in touch with their own experience of retirement and share with me what they recalled happening inside them at that time. The following are a few of their comments: "Sometimes it feels like your personhood is diminished ." "I want to be seen first as a person, and then as a patient . " "Institutions make it difficult to be personal ." "You can't make decisions for yourself ." "I felt dethroned, becoming an observer rather than a participant . " "I was frightened of being a captive of the rocking chair and treated as a child kept busy with games and crafts . " "The real pain of not being active is that your opinion is never sought . " These are but a few of their comments; they are the more painful ones. 862 The Call of Retirement: A Ministry of Eiders / 1~63 However all of these perspectives reinforced for me again the perception of retirement as a time of moving away from something that had meaning rather than moving toward something significant in life. In his "Preface to a Practical Theology of Aging" Don S. Browning emphasizes that we must challenge both the idea that a person is only of worth or contributing when he is gainfully employed and the idea that the last stages of life should be a time of irrelevant comfort and preadolescent indulgence. Al

Issue 45.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1986. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REVIEW [-'OR REI.IGIOOS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1986 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single,copies: $2.50. S(~bscription U.S.A. $ I 1.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: 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. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor Jan./Feb., 1986 Volume 45 Number 1 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR REt.tGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department ~Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindeli Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. ~Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Review for Religious Volume 45, 1986 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63i08-3393 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S~M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, September, and N6vember on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1986 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. A major portion:of each issue of REVIEW FOR REEIGIOOS is also regularly available on cassette.recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. The Price of Poverty Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. Father Macdonald is well known to our readers for.his frequent contributions. He continues to reside, and may be addressed at ,.St."Jo,seph's; Wellington,Road; Tod-morderi, Lanc.; OLI4 5HP; England. /~ n elderl~ lady came to the sacristy after Mass and gave (f9r her) quite a large sum of money to the priest "for shoes.for that poor man whoread at Mass,today." The reader was in fact a Unive.rsity lecturer with an income, way beyond anything the lady .hadever known, who chose .to" dress shab-bily with down-at-heel sandals. He had more choices ,as ,to lifestyle than the lady who pitied him. Similarly, one has heard a religious conducting a seminar on poverty, forcibly arguing that if one is to be true to the Gospel and the founder's charism, rootlessness i~ really what is meant. The word poverty is too weak to enshrine the concept. He himself wasoenjoying a prbfessional salary with his own bank-account, not one penny of which ever went to his congregation. ~ It is not just .or even,chiefly a matter of human fallibility, but of unreality which is an ever present risk in discussing evangelical poverty. So often the appearance bears no relation to the fact. Even the possibility of discussing poverty argues a degree,of unreality, as most people are either born into or forced into the poverty trap by. circumstances. One can see this in. a third-world context where, paradoxically, evangelical.poverty is almost impossi-bly difficult to live since the blistering reality is so obvious, and the main thrust of.society is to .race away from it. Perhaps G. K. Cheste_rton offers a way into the discussion in suggesting that humanity is the basis for under-standing poverty. He believed that a man ought to know something of th~ embtions of an ihsulted maff, not 4 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 by being insulted but simply by being a man. And he o.ught to know something of the emotions of a poor man not by being poor, but simply by being a man. Therefo~'e in any writer who is describing poverty, my first objection to him will be that he has studied his subject. A democrat would have imagined it.~ Statistics obviously have their place, but are no substitute for fellow-feeling. Religious,_ asked "to be poor both in fact and spirit" (Perfectae Caritatis 13) can, therefore, consider a genuinely poor person in the con-temporary world as a touchstone of reality. Contemporary Poverty A young woman, a soldier's wife was counting the hours until her husband came home on leave. He did come. He had a woman with him whom he sat-.on a settee while he went upstairs and packed a suitcase. He came down and said to his wife: "Well, that's that then; I am off." Such w~is the end of her married life. The biblical type of weakness, vulnerability and poverty is often seen in a woman on her own. 1 cannot see that.the pattern is fundamentally different today. The religious who wants the feel of poverty could do worse than examine her experience. Ratherothan spend days and dollars in meetings discussing th~ topic, much better siarely to visit such people who, regrettably, are to be found within walking distance 6f so °many religious houses. Why talk when we can walk and meet the reality in person?-Poverty is first felt, not discussed. ; That woman is truly poor. She loved her husband and wanted his childre~n i~n a lifetime together, but she was told in the crudestpossible way that her love was worth nothing. She was .nobody to him. "In practical terms she had ceased to exist. She did not even rate,.a letter.or word of understanding or explanation. Yet he was everything to her. One can glimpse'~the emotional-poverty in a person with an immense capacity for love who is unable to express it as she is unwanted and rejected. She is, therefore~, porr in her very identity as her love, which is essentially herself, is apparently woi-thless. ~ As a married woman growing into the ~role, she ~knew who she-was. It was no part-time occupation she had chosen, but a full-time:life to which she had given herself. In view of her particular rejection, inevitably ques-tions must surface as:to her personal worth. Who amq now?Is the best I liave to give worth nothing? Failure. of any kind c~in bring humiliation. Here is a woman who could not keep her husband'. Friends who 6nee welcomed her into their homes as a married woman are now less keen as she is on her own. People will talk about her, scarcely handicapped .by knowing tittle of the true situation. The , ~e Price of Poverty self she once saw and recognized is now seriously shattered, and it will take more than cosmetics to put the pieces together again.-Could she~be worth less? Clearly emotionally impoverished., she is, too, almost 9ertainly econom-ically poor.:.Can she continue living in her ,house? Once budgeting with her husband's income as together~, they tried to build a home, now the home which she helped furnish~ and in which she may have expreSsed her own ta,ste, has ,to beobroken up. Perhaps even the physical fabric in which, to a degree, she~had invested herself will have to go too. She has been literally .uprooted. Her future is a lottery. Have her career or work prospects been handicappedin marrying? How ~nd where is she to five? What is she to do? C~ntemporary Questio.ns _ For anyone seriously wishing to understand poverty with~a, view-to .living it, inevitably the q,u, estion must arise, if this is poverty what am I living? Arriving at that woman's house what would I say to her? Is~the level of religious poverty such that, without ~iving a personal history, one can communicate with her at quite a deep level? Does the religious have expe-rience of rejection and failure? Has the ~reoligious ever felt worthless? Ever lived inca loveless house? Ever been~unable to express love? Has the religious ever been lost in the pre,sent and afraid of the future? By the same token, has one received such warmth, love, affection and security that one can ,,only feel for someone ,who quite ol~viously has not? " Self-respect might suggest that.if she is a poor woman What am I? On the deeper level of~emotion where all of us fu, nction, does religious p, overty sugges, t.that ! came from Sinai with a tract or from life.with fellow-feeling? The religious who has attempted to live "poor both in fact and spirit" will speak the POOr w.oman's language owit.h an immediacy which is first felt rather than~expressed. Poverty means limitation. In aworld where destitution is rampant the meaning of poverty may be obscured. De~stitution means absolutely no choice, and is indefensible as a wa~y of life. Poverty implies limited oppor-tunity. The former has no choice, the latter hasAittle. ~o Chesterton, in the essay mentioned earlier, felt it necessary to say that -"a poor man is a man who has not go~ much money." This seems self-evi-dent to the point of banality, butJif it is su.ch a truism why does it appear to have escaped the lifestyle of so many religious? If that was taken as a rule of thumb, possibly much of the rat!onalizing of evangelical poverty might go. "If a poor persbn can afford it I can consider, it. If not, I can't." It may be that a limited budget with a need to count the pennies should be built into any realistic framework of poverty as a way of life, which, of cours.e, is not 6,/ Review for Religious, Jan:Feb., 1986 .the same.as penny-p.inching. If'circumstances'don't dictate it,.those who freely chorse such'a life should. -.- With whom does one identify? Whatever "evangelical" means, it cannot mean otinreal. The link between religious life imd poverty should be pro-gressively instinctive fo~ the mature person. It was a young married woman caught in the poverty trap who 'summed it all up! "You get to the point that you" doh't.think about things you can't afford." Horizons inevitably narrow. °A poor person with limited opportunity has presumably little choice as to the people be4ives among. He cannot choos~ his neighb0rh~0od, as many testify ~ho would give heaven and .earth to get out of a district if only to give the,children a better chance, "but cannot. For those who find work it is often a dead-end job. Educational and culiural opportunities, vacations and recreations are .similarly limited. If such is not bifilt irito the fabric of evangelieal~poverty we geem to have missed much of the point. Poor people tend to be marginal people in terms of statm, influence 'and opportunity. One bf the gt:eatest tragedies of poverty, it has been noted, is the'inability of'so many people to make afy contribution to society since so m.u.ch potential ig never given the chance to develop. This does not just disqualify many from co.mpeting in whatis called "the rat race," Where the prizes, however won, are strictly personal,-but limits their contribution to life in general and their family and neighborhood iia partic-ular. "Why, therefore, should the religious gibe at being subject to'such limitations, perhaps iffbeing i/~nored, used or patronized? Poverty feels like" that. The very insecurity of contemporary religirus life could be a chance to identify with such marginal people. There are so mar~y marginiil people even in the affluent sqcieties of Western Europe and theUnited Sta'trs, and surely the religious should not leave them behind. InSecurity is in the air. Li~,ing within such limits; the religious will be treated as such. In any case he can do no other. He has no choice. If his place in the pecking order determines how he is treated, in choosing poverty hr'ha~ chosen (o be last. Wh3~ should anyone choose such a~qife? To play at it is one thing, but to choose to live permanently within such limits is something else:~ After all anyone who has ever lived in India, for ekam~le, will have se~n there many "MotherTe'resas," as no doubt they'are to be found all over the globe, but. it can still be puzzling as to why the average ~:eligious might choose that road. Most people,,sensibly, want to widen their horizons, so whychoose limitation in t~rms 'of relationships, lifestyle, dress, travell OlS~orttinity? When poor people used to say that "pove'rty's no disgrace, but 'tis a great inconvenience," someone wh'o grew up as one of them thought the com-ment too rriild for what was ih'fact "a hampering drag upon them.''2 Most resist being pushed to'thb mai-gin so why. would anyone want to live there? 1he Price of Poverty It is hard to see a.nyone choosing this, oti~er than as'a voluntary, short-term contract, yet, apparently, religious have chosen this frr life. Unless this choice is und~rpinned by an integrating vision which can give it worthwhile meaning, any such lifestyle wilLsurely fragment under the age-old tension of catering to champagne tastes on a beer income. It is not in unredeemed human nature to choose less arid be content. There is in much of religious poverty as lived today a close analogy with Parkinson's Law,3 ih as much as affluence expands and is seen to be necessary,as goods and money, become available. Yet if one lives on a figed income in an economic climate of inflation, one cannot spend money.as if there is no tomorrow. I cannot entertain as perhaps I .would like. Not can the°main consideration of "tra'Jel abroad" be a valid .passport. Limitation will be Written into whatever I do. Basically the choice of this lifestyle is made because the.religious choose Christ who chose a stable in preference to a palace and consistently l~eld to that even in death.-It is said that the best fighter.is the hungry fighter, and whoever really wants 'God in Christ must train.to sacrifice anything that gets in the way. The point of poverty, then, is to remove the clutter and tension which would tend to crowd God out. The Methodist sbholar Gor-don Rupp underlined this in a general point: "Never had so many men so" many great possessions as in our modern affluent societies, and what Jesus said about these things no Bultmann has ever been able t0 demythologize. If these things blind the spirit, and if the pure of heai-tsee, then I should find a thousand within the Church on the road.to perfection for every hundred outside."4 The outlook of the consumer society can suffocate feeling for God. The point of evangelical poverty is made more'specific in-an instructive misprint in my copy of the breviary, where St. Paul is m.ade to say of, Christ that "rich as he was, he made himself poor for your: sake in order to make you rich by means of his property (sic)" (2 Co 8:9). This is undoubtedly the logic which appeals to the printer andthe rest,ofus;.but what St. Paul said, of, course, was that it,was in his total poverty that Christ enriched us. "Here everything has been lost in translation. ,In an at.tempt to make sense of the text, nonsense has been made of the Gospel. To see the influence, of this insight on St. Paulqn that same second letter to the Corinthians can be of immense practical help in assimilating, the reason for evangelical poverty and~so nourishing its continuing dynamic. First Put On Christ Invariably Paul~ begins with Christ. Seeing him in his conversion, bap-tism and daily life--"even if we did once .know Christ in the flesh, that~ is I! / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 not how w6knox~.him'now" (2 Coo5:16) he isso enthralled by what he sees that he can only, compare its effect on,him to the creation of light: "For it is the God ~who said, "Let light .shine out Of darkness,'~vho has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of:God on the face of Christ" (2 Co 4:6). He knew his world and himselLto be literally re-created anewin Christ:~ Reality,- no matter how it presents itself, now comes to him in the face ooLChrist, _so he comes to see what God is like in a sacramental world and,progressively, becomes lik~ what he sees. Whatever happens to ,Paul is always in Christ. So illumined, life is shot' through with Christ as he sees God giving himself in the happenings of every day. The more he reflected on God giving .himself to us in Christ the more he was possessed .by what he saw: "For the love 6f Christ overwhelms us when we reflect." (2 Co 5:14). To think that Christ had givenhis life for Paul.in the absolute poverty of crucifixion and death! He,could refuse;Paul nothir~g. Living in such a world, helogically believed that the response of Christians.should be "to. live no longer for themselves but for ,him who for their sake died and was raised" (2 Co 5:15): In other words, the selfish, self-centered core in all of us, which can imprison us in self as cruelly as a child in a ~chbol playground without an adult present, has now been broken up. In Christ, one moves from self to selflessness: Onelives now for Christ as the wholeness of his sacrifice registers, and one comes to realize what an enthralling discovery one has in this unprecedented gift. Even atomic calculations cannot quantify this: So seismic ig the effect on one who.glimpses the reality that Paul can only see .the person given that insight as a wholly new type of being, since, "for an~,one who is in Christ, there is a new creation; the old creation has gone, and now the new .one is here" (2 Co 5:17). One's outlook, value-sys-tem and life itself are now a response to God giving himself.in Christ. That this can take place in the ordinary, everyday world of pagan-Corinth Paul is assured, since.~'for our sake God made the sinless one into~sin, so that in him we mi.'ghi become the goodness of God" (2.Co 5:21). In human nature at~lts worst seen in the,cruclfix~on and death of the s~nless Christ, our-Lord plumbed the depths of human evil and weakness insofar~as one person could, and so enables Paul to see that everything is redeemable in the death and resurrection_of Christ. Nothing can hold .us in Christ. CruCified as his° Mother stood and watched, and buried in ,another man's grave, this it is~ that roots the experience of Christ in the humanity of every age, not least our own. What of course was h.appening was "God in Christ was reconciling the world to himself, not holding men's faults against them. : ." (2 Co 5:20). Glimpsing this, Christians like Paul become "ambassadors for Christ :. as The Price of Poverty / 9 though God were appealin~ through us" (2 Co 5:20). The message, of course, is,simply to "be r~conciled to God" (2 Co 5:20). Ideally the Christian reaches the point of so assimilating Paul's o]nsight that he/she can do no other 'than share it. For the religious, poverty is part ofth6 price paid t,o'preserve that insight. AllLelse gradually falls'away, no longer seen as having any real claim on us in'the light of Christ: "And we, with our. :. faces reflecting like mirrors the brightness of th~ Lord, all grow brighter and brighter as we are turned into the image that we reflect" (2 Co 3:18). All of this takes place not in some Gnostic, esoteric enclave, but in the streets of wherever the Christian happens to be, since "this is the work of the Lord.who is Spirit" (2 Co 3:18). The first and continuing step for anyone who would live genuinely evangel-ically poor, therefore, is to ~put on Christ. Contemplation is clearly primary. First recognize what it is to be christened, and poverty for the sake of Christ becomes a logical necessity. Whatever obscures that vision must go. In Everyday Life While it is true that Paul "was caught up into paradise and heard things which must not and cannot be put into human language" (2 Co 12:4), the second letter to the Corinthians makes it all too plain that' he does'not stay there. It is in the present, in the unpredictability of everydaY life that he sees Christ, and this is marvelously encouraging for anyone attempting to.live poor for Christ. Rich as he was in Christ, people and circumstances will so often combine to subject Paul to an experience not unlike that of the contemporary poor woman mentioned earlier. So often he will be stripped of. everything but his faith (see 2 Co 1:8). -For some, Paul's "all would not be enough. He invested not just the Gospel but his self in Corinth "For my own part, I will gladly spend and be spent on your sohls' behalf, though ~you should love me too little for loving you .too well" (2 Co 12:15). The man wh'o brought Christ to them at such physical and emotional cost is i'educed to writing them a letter in an attempt, to-establish himself again (see 2 Co "3:1-3). "Someone said, 'He writes powerful and strongly-worded letters, but when he is with you, you see only half a man and no preacher at all" (2 Co 10:10). It is not just gratuitous rudeness nor personal dislike, but Paul's nonacceptance as a genuine apostle that is at issue, sohe is afraid that "your ideas may get corrupted and turned away from simple devotion to Christ" (2 Co 11:3). Paul and his Christ are not accepted. His very identity, therefore, is questioned. In an attempt to try and reestablish some lost status he is humiliated into having to give something of his own'record to show that he was not in it for himself, as was suggested neither a naive, misguided 11~ / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 convert nora "con-man" taking advantage of them: "lashes. beaten. stoned.:., shipwrecked., false brethren., sleepless., hunger, thirst. cold., anxiety for all the churches" (2 Co I 1:23-29). Was all this for nothing? He gave everything, yet had not made first base with an influential, articulate group in the Corinthian church. He has deceived no one, yet if a man's good faith is questioned, as was Paul's, he is really poor, for, without that, he, has no currency left. Corinth and life generally.taught Paul that,.such paradox is of the essence of an apostle's life: "We are treated as imposters, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and ~behold weolive; as punished, and yet .not killed; as sorrowful, yet always .rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything" (2 Co.7:8-10). Read as experience,and not liter.ature, in these passages 9ne will come close to the mind and life of a poor Christian man. Integrity, reputation, achievement, personality, wealth and so much more that can give a. person self-respect and a worthwhile life are so often taken, and the individual is then dismissed as worthless. Even obvious achievement is seen as a mirhge. To be poor feels like that, seemingly unable to make a contribution though one gives one's all. Paul is so aware of the power of the Gospel and the'powerlessness of the Christian as he tries to communicate it, that it would almost seem a contradiction in terms had not his life followed that pattern since first he gave himself to ~Christ. Perhaps he was never closer to his Lord than in this powerlessness. If the Christ he preached, the faith they received, the life he lived does not suggest integrity, he has ,nothing to offer except an appeal: "Open your hearts to us; we have taken advantage of no one" (2 Co 7:2). . To be reduced to speaking like that, one must be poor indeed. Against that background, too, incidentally, Paul is trying to collect money to help the impoverished Jerusalem church! (see 2 Co chs. 8-9): Part of the cost of becoming a Christian in those da~s may have meant, for ma.ny, broken family and community ties resulting in real poverty at so-many levels. Paul was also economically, poor in Corinth:. "When I was with you and ran out of money I was no burden to °anyone" (2 Co 11:9). For whatever reason he judged it best not to accept help from the Corinthian church. This led. to further misunderstanding, not least.in leading some to assume that his message must .be as ,cheap as its presenter. As so often with the really poor person it seems to be "heads you win, tails I lose," whatever way the coin falls.- Whenever he could ,t~oVmake ends meet, "I robbed other churches by accepting Support from them in.order to serve you" (2 Co. 11:8): These were the other communities in Greece Paul had set up on his way south to ¯ 7he Price of Poverty Corinth, and it must Surely have been an additibnal burden when he was aware of being helped by people who had little enbugh themselves, since "the troubles they have been through have tried them hard, ~,et in all this they h.ave been so exuberantly happy that from the depths of their poverty they .have shown themselves lavishly openhanded" (2 Co 8:2). Evidently poor themselves, they were so eager to help the poor in the Jerusalem church "begging and begging us for thefavor of sharing in this service" that in so doing, "they offered their own selves'first to God and, under God, to us" (2 Co 8:4-5). Such are the people helping Paul; so at one with the mind of their Lord ~that.they, too, from'their poverty, are helping to make others rich. ~' Think ~of the effect oon Paul of such behavior--the bread~he e~its he owes to ~them, ~is also their faith builds up him and so many. They have learned much in a short time. It must be the experience of so many religious across the world that it is largely because of the faith and generosity of such people today that they are able to,live and work. Sucl~ support should.have a marked effect on the way we live. Personal Limitations Emotionally and ecohomically poor in a world in which any religious can. find himself; St. Paul also works within the limits of a ~human frame. The most individual of:men, he is always recognizably himselL Even those who tend to lay all that~is wrong with Christianity at. Paul's feet might acknowledge~that there is something, much or little, in their own characters that they might wish to change, if only to be more effective witnesses to Christ. Paul knows this too. One of the greatest benefits of time spent in Paul's company is to see him operate within the'limitations ~of a genuinely human personality - which is just another expression Of the intrinsic poverty which everyone shares. After each one of us was made they broke the mould. Paul is ever conscious of "a thorn in the flesh" which so bothered him that he pleaded ~;ith God to remove it (see 2 Co 12:7-8). Whatever~ it was, Paul knew he woifld be:.so mhch more effective if only he could b~ rid of it. His .prayer was notanswered. Instead, he was given one of his greatest, most encour-" aging insights, which can help anyone conscious of the poverty of his or her . own resources: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Co 1~2:9). Paul was fine as he was. The fewer his reserves the more must God supply. The~greater his personal inadequacy the ~more pressing his claim on God: So the ultimate paradox for Paul was that when he looked at himself in 12 / Review for-Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 the mirror of his apostolate and saw much that he could wish changed, he saw what was really there, a poor individual man with all his limitations, loved by.God in Christ. His obvious weakness was a claim on God's power. So he could relax and learn contentmeht at a very deep level: "and t.hat is wh~ I am quite content with my weaknesses, and with insults, hard~hips, persecuti~ons, and the_ agonies I go through for Ch_rist.'s sake. For it is when I am weak that I am strong" (2 Co. 12:10).~ The religious inevitably oware of some of his limitations would do well to assimilate that insight. As someone yowe.d to. poverty, he can even integrate his own limitations within,the co~mforting simplicity of that Gospel perspective, perhaps coming to see why Paul could s~y "No wonder we do not lose heart~ T]3o~ugh our outward.humanity is in decay, yet day by day we are inwardly ren~ewed" (2 Co 4:16). As ever, the o~,erriding.belief in God gi.'ving himself in Christ in.the present moment is the dynamic of evangelical pove~y. o Repeated experience w.as to teach Pgul this, even when he felt shattered as his identity as a .genuine apostle is queried, pioneering a way for the Gospel, or facing the growing pains of an expanding Church. Often he finds himself as a leader withotit an army, let down by people from whom he had expected support. Because of his fighting polemic Paul ran the risk, not always successfully avoided; of being unfair to others and no doubt had the chance to repent at leisure ,The physical and emotional strain at times must have been severe~ but it is again all part of carrying the treasure of the Gospel withinthe heart of a poor man. So,he saw that "we are r~o better than pots ofearthenware to contain this treasure, and this proves th~it.such transcendent power does not come from us, but is God's alone" (2 Co 4:7). o~What is attractive is that in circumstances which would liave discouraged ¯ many of us, or have us return home to lecture, write our memoirs, or dine. out on our experiences for Christ, Paul never gave up.-He went forward into the situation, and there found God in Christ with a security,given only to those who give up everything for. him. His life as glimpsed in this letter. shows that "human indeed we are, but it is in no human strength we figlit, our battles" (2 Co 10:3). He expresses this superbly when he admits that "we are in difficulties on all sides, but never concerned; we see no answer to our problems, but-never despair;., persecuted, but never deserted; knocked down but never killed" (2 Co 4:8-9). Again, one should not let the literary construction mask the human reality. Paul is not some superman (canonization is invariably posthu-mous), but a man in Christ, which is why problems, mistakes, anxiety and fear never ultimately crush him since they are seen as reflecting Christ. He ~he Price of Poverty / 13 is always in Christ and so in circumstances where our first move might be to the doctor, the bottle, the cotinselor or the return ticket, Paul's is always to Christ. So when he is in trouble, he sees what is happening to him." ~Always, wherever we may be, we carry with us in our body the death of Jesus" (2 Co 4:9). He lives in Christ as Chrisriives in him, not least in suffering and heartbreak. So real is this that "the sufferings of Christ, it is true, overflow into bur li~,es~," and in that.very experience as Christ is there, "there is overflowing comfort, too, which 'Christ brings" (2 Co 1:5). Up against it, seeing no way through, Paul believes Christ to be an indwelfing presence not a distant model. He shares the experience, often nailed to Christ through people and circumstances beyond his control. So a man, who, like his Lord and so many on earth, knew much of failure, tears and poverty, at the same time, in the pow.er and love of the r~sen Christ,'sees that in his suivival~ though so powerless, "the life Of Jesus; too, may al.ways be seen in our body" (2 Co 4:10). The poverty-stricken Paul~is enriched, in Christ, even using suffering and failure to help reconcile him and his world to God. -,; . ~ Nothing in his experience, therefore, is pointless. Successive centuries have no doubt learned more from the failures of Paul and his Lord than from the successes of their commentators. So a poor man, with at times scarcely a hold on life--"we were so utterly, and unbearably crushed that we despaired of life itself" (2 Co 1:8)--learned to rely on the richness of God. He must have found much time for prayer and reflection or he could: never have read so much into the poverty of the human condition, these passages do not read .as emotion recollected in tranquillity so much as the discovery of the presence of God in Christ when all seemed lost in a harsh, uncaring world. Under God, Paul learned that lesson well. And so, from his own experience of poverty, at many levels, he was anxious and able to pass on what he had found, thanking "the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any. affliction, ,with the.comfort with which we ourselves are comforted byGod" (2 Co ! :3-4). Paul seems hypnotized by the word comfort, since the experience was so real in the.middle of his at times frightening poverty~ The religious lookingfor the vision and stamina to be "poor both in fact and spirit," would do well ~to spend time in the company of such a man who found so much of richness in his own poverty: "For what we preach is not ourselves, but J~us Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servant for Jesus' sake" (2 Co 4:5). In any consideration of the vast topic of evangelical poverty there is both a community and an individual dimension. This article is simply meant 14 / Review for Religious, Jan,-Feb., 1986 as an aid to personal reflection. The Benedictine histbrian David Knowles, in the epilogue to.one of his classic studies of English medieval monasticism, was of the opinibn that property and wealth were contributory factors in its decline. No groups nor individuals could do much about it, as wealth "clUng like pitch." This is surely a human development, not especially a medieval one: If a corrective cannot be found for the individual religious in the Gospel,.a founder's manuscript ru!e, and a contemporary poor person, it is doubtful if le~slation and discussion wiil make it real. It is for the individual to see. , o NOTES -~G. K. ~hesterton, "Slum Novelists and the Slums," in _Heretics LondOn 1905, p. 277. 2Florri' Thompson, Lark Rise to Candleford Penguin Books 1973, p. 31. ~C. Northcote Parkinson, Parkinson's Law: "W0~k e~pan'ds so as to fill the time available for its completion." 4Gordon Rupp, The Old Reformation and the New, Epworth 1967, p. 60. On Silence There is the silence that nurses a sleeping child and the silence that is violence without equal. There is the silence that purifies the notes of birds and the silence that betrays the noise inside our lives¯ There is the silence that comes wrapt in a piece of sky .and the silence that is overcast and threatening. -There is the silence that nourishes our sensitivity to life and the silence that is shattered by soul-destroying work. There is the silence in the dew drop's other world and the silence'thff( is manufactured and pressure packed. ~There is the gilen~ that is tl~e gentlest of friend~ and the silence that is filled with loneliness. There is the silence that takes us by thb hand and: leads us deep into the heart of'Peace. "~ N0el Davis 257 Abercrombie Street Red fern EO. Box 130 Chip~aendale, N.S.W. Australia Harvesting Silence: A Desert Spidtuality Anthony Wi.eczorek, O Praem, ~Father Wieczorek writes: "The very times when life and prayer seem to have fallen apart may well be God's attempt to get our attention and make us face the sort of ~hings we all too easily hide from with our busy and carefully structured lives." His previous article, "Cominitment: Dying and. Ri~ing to S~lf," appeared in the issue of July/August, 1985. Father Wieczorek may be addressed at St. Joseph Priory; 103 Grant Street; De Pere, Wisconsin. 541.15. How does a person go about harvesting silence? The question is an impoflant one to people who find themselves standing amid acres of the stuff. How does a pe~,son gather' together silence," emptiness, and stillness? They creep up.so unobtrusively that their coming is unfioticed until, that is, it is too late. The life that had been so filled with purpose:and people and things to do has .grown distant, separated by a moat of 'silence. But no watery moat is this. It is a moat, rather, of sand and arid wastes, of emptiness and stillness, for silence grows only in desert conditions. What is there, then, to harvest in a desert? . What ,grows there? What value, what purpose can it have? These questions are more pragmatic than they sound: What is. to be: made of life that had been lush with' activity, that has been filled with.purpose when suddenly the activity is gone o seems meaningless and unnecessary? What value has an existence that has lost the art of awareness? What can be made of a life whose dreams and plans and goals have all shriveled up in a blast of desert air so that life seems lost and out of control? The desert, though, is not a punishment to endure. The silence and stillness is a gift that must be received, a crop that must be harvested. 15 16 / Review for" Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 I I have never been in a real, geographical desert but the image of one that pictures provide and that emerges in my imaginings is that of an endless expanse of sand and sky. In the desert that I imagine and inwhich I make my anchorage, there is literally nothing to see. Oddly enough, that is its whole point. A desert is a most carefully constructed work of art. Nature, and God, have taken great effort and artistry fo create an empty backdrop, a single sandy sheet. From the looks of it, it was time well spent; for a desert is not only beautiful, it is functional as well. The desert has an anonymous function that is carefully hidden. In the desert's emptiness there is nothing to hide behind, nothing to conceal; there is nothing to distract. By the very fact of its emptiness, the desert is a perfect place for revelation, a perfect place for confrontation. Hosea spoke of God luring Israel back into the wilderness so that it would once again have to deal with God's revelation. What makes a desert is precisely its paucity of distractions. There the silence is both vocal and visual. It was to such an environment that God called Israel. God called Israel to the desert lJecause it is a place of confrontatitn. = A desert is not geographical; it is an attitude, a cond.ition, a state of the soul. Nor are deserts fixed areas of terrain. Deserts-lie waiting beneath the sarface of skin and sou!. They bubble up, from time to time, like springs of sand that rush out and flood into life. Deserts can appear overnight or sometimes in a~single, often climatic, moment. We close our eyes one unsuspecting night to the lush greenness of our lives only to awake., to nothing, to a howling empty expanse of sand and sky. Deserts are works of art, created not without some little effort. They do not appear randomly or-by accident. God creates deserts in our lives whenever God's patience runs dry. God creates deserts out of thelushness of our lives to force an issue we have otherwise avoided. M~ike no mistake, our lives are indeed lush, not with vegetation, but with things to do, thoughts to ponder, problems to solve, people to meet, greet, to make love and war with. Duti.es, tasks, responsibilities, projects are the trees, plants, shrubbery that have been planted within our lives but which have grown and multiplied at a rate and in a density that isall their own. Many of us, however, have allowed them to grow out of control. The lush foliage that .fills our days and lives~is our alibi. There is so much to perceive, so much to do, so much to read and consider and wonder at, can anyone, human, or divine, blame.us for atleast being selective with our attentiveness? For missing,something here and there? We have so many revelations to deal with in even a single day, how are we to know which is the most impOrtant, the most necessary? We have attempted, though, to cover, not only our Harvesting Silence / 17 tra.cks ~with all our foliage,but God's as well. Prepare ye, then for the dr~ught Whereupon God shall create:in and a~ound us,-from the chaos of our lives, a single, simple desert from which shall emerge in bold silhouette the real, the. true, the ,necessary. Dfteo when I am in a. desert there are two passages that frequently come .to mind. One passagd is from Ursal Le Guin's A Wizard of Earthsea. It is a story about a young man struggling to become a wizard. At one point in his training he. is given this sage bit of advice: ¯ ~ You thought, as a boy, that a mage is on6 who can do anything. So I , thought, once: So did we all::And the truth is that as a man's real power . ~grows and his khowledge widens, ever the way he can follow grows nar-or. ower:- until at last he chooses n~thing, but does only find wholly what he must do . ,~ The trick, it would seem, is to find that must do. It is easier said than done. But difficult though it may be, it~ strikes me as being nonetheless true. ~The key to the finding seems to revolve around getting in touch with limitations, the paucity of resources and talents wherein lies our realistic avenue of . growth.-The desert seems a fitting place for recognizing one's limits, the truth about oneself. ." ¯ .The other.passage that comes'to mind treats the same theme, this one from Annie Dillard's Teaching a ~Stone to Talk: I think it would be well, and proper, and obedient, and pure, to grasp your one necessity and not let it go, to dangle from it limp wherever it takes you. W.hat a blessing it would be "to ~asp your one necessity," if only, that is, one knew what-it was. To speak of doing what one "must do" is the same as sp6aking of what is "necessary,"~ and both require the same str~uggle, namely, hacking thr6ugh the jungle of options, choices and aliernatives in ~vhich ~we find ourselves. Times of decision, be they 'great or small, would be so much easier if only we could, perceive the necessary from all the possibiliti.es. There are simply too many choices, too many ways. In such times it is important io disentangle the seemingly necessary from the truly necessary. The de,eft is an excellerit place to do so; the desert is a refuge from the unnecessary. In the.desert one learns quickly what is involved .in returning to riecessity. One of the fi~'st things discovered is l~recisely how necessary the desert is. In the silence and starkness of the desert the unnec-essary has a way of shriveling up a.nd falling away or, in its self-ordained has~tb, of passing usoby. And when it does so, when all is finally quiet and deserted, when we stand surrounded by void, then look and listen well. What emerges from the stillness is that which we seek. I sit in my desert and watch a parade go by. There are clowns and 111 / Review for ,Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 bands, important people in convertibles smiling and waving, Each one wants those on the sidklinesto join them, to take up ranks bohind them, It is the parade,of the unneceskary. Right now I am watching it pass by. I am waiting for"the still, small voice I've heard follows, behind." Sometimes amid: all the noise it goes by unnoticed. Clowns, bands, and crowds make almost as mubh~ noise as winds,, earthquakes and fires. T6 hear it, .then, one must wait and listen attentively. : ~ ~ " ~ ~. ~ . While I wait I notice something about the parade; Us~ually parades move along slowly, butnot 'this one. I ~vonder if it doesn't resemble more a race, a marathon,'than a parade. It reminds me of the joke ab6ut the airline, pilot who was hopelbssly lost but making excellent time:° I wonder ¢vhere the parade/race ends? I don't think it does. It looks a little funny but obviously it isn't~ Everyone heems so serious. I'm beginning to feel guilty and irresponsible just sitting here. ~But l haven't heard the yoice yet, the. still, small one. Actually, I'm:rather glad they ~'e rushing on. They all make me nervous., ~ Gradually the parade moves on. And still I sit, silently waiting. I think the voice is also shy. lt figures; small, still things usuallyare. There are two possibilities: one, it's watching me to see whether l'm safe b~efore it,co, mes out; or, two, it doesn't know that I'm here. Either way, I'll.wait. It will be along sooner or lat.er, that is, if it's necessary. A desert is anything but empty; despite all appearances t9 the ontr~ary, it is filled with an i~i~ense silence. It is so silent and Calm and stilithai~every breath, every heartbeat booms. It is incredibly difficult,oif not impossible, to be uhawat~ in a desert. The sparcity of gcen~ry seems somehow to cleanse the senses. The silence that is both vocal and .visual! Washes over the eyes an~l ears and all the'other senses. In fact, so acute does sensing become that, it can assume an alfiaost paranoic nature. The irony is that.';vhile we imagine things that' are not there, we tend to deny whak is. We struggle in the intense desert silence,~struggle with wafiting to believe with all our hearts "it is'only a mirage," yet haunted by the question "Was it real? Is it~iteal'? The desert silence makes~us realize that, havir~g been so dulled by the Sens6ry:"blitz of life, we hav~ 10st the art of l~erception. There is so muchto see and hear and behold that we noqonger.know.how: Either We have learned to sc?eeh so effectiv~ely, the noise and pace of our lives orwe are blinded an~i:deaf~ned by it all: in either event, once in'the'desert' with so little to sye'and hbar we find we really do not know h6w {o do ~either; But then, that is the°poini"of being in the desert. Harvesting Silence / 19 The desert is a place for not. only confronting things divine; it is first, and perhaps primarily, a place for encountering things human. In a desert wh~t first.is confronted is consciousness. What better way to appreciate sight and Sound than to have,them takenaway. In the desert., where there is nothing, to .see, we learn again how~ to see. In the desert, where there is nothing tohear~but the howling of the Wind, we learn how to listen to ~the spirit. But what" we see and .hear first with our rediscovered senses is ourselves. In the°desert~ in becoming Conscious of ourselves, we paradoxi-cally discover that self-consciousness is the antithesis of consciousness. I do not mean by self-corisciousness the knowledge and recognition of the truth ~about~ourselves. The Christian tradition is adamant about self-knowledge as the starting point in-the search for God. Hear, for example, the iestimony of St. Isaac of Syria, a sixth-century desert father: i~' Enter eagerly into the treasure-house that'lies within you, and so you will see the treasure-house of heaven: for the two are the same, and there is but one single entry into ihem both. q'lie lhdder that leads to the kingdom is hidden within you. Dive into yourselfand :in your soul you will discover the rungs by which to ascend. ° Or, for example, ten centuries later,Teresa of Avila writes in a similar vein: It is no small pit~; and'should cause us little shame, that, through bur own fault, we do not .understand ourselves, or know who we ate. Would ~it not ¯be a sign of great ignorance, my daughter, if a person were asked who he o o was and could not say, and had no idea who his fatheror mother.was, or from what country he came? BecOming conscious of ourselves, both for its own sake and as a means to union with God, is indeed well aitested in theChristian~traditi0n. What is not as-well documented, or.at leastnot as talked about; is the adverse effect self-crnsciou~ness has on ou~ i~bility to be conscious and aware, to perceive not 0nly God, but~the world in which we live. It takes great ignorance, great childlikeness to be consciously aware. On the other hand it is quite impos~sible to be both self-crnscious and child-like at the same time; people are'either one or the other. For example, a child does riot care how he or She looks to oth(rs. This unself-cohsciousness so characteristic of children 'we call innocence. 'It is innocence. It is inno-cence that allows a child to be enthralled when an adult's self-conscious concern for propriety and dignity would compel them to be less conspicu-ous, though'also less perceptive. Annie Dillard-calls innocence "the spirit's unself-conscious state at any momenl~°of pure devotion to any object. It is at once a receptiveness .and total concentration." How.many adults have ¯ the freedorri, the unself-co'nsciousness it takes to coricentrate with recep- 20 /~Reviewfor Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 tiveness and devotion? Those, to be sure, who are most childlike in attitude and orientation. And is this not the point behind the command to :'die to self" in order to follow Christ? Can Christ live in us if we are filled with our self?. Perhaps, too, only children.can enter-the kingdom because it takes a child's unabaslied ability to see and hear to perceive it. Children are life's tourists. They walk about gaping and gawking at every thing and eve.ry one. We permit:.them to do so, to look foolish because they are, after all, only children, who don't yet know any better. But we_ deprive ourselves of the same ability and freedom to stand and behold the ordinary and extraordi-nary things in our lives and in our selves. We let self-consciousness interfere with satisfying our thirst to be truly conscious and aware of the hidden mysteries of life, hidden because to see them we must get down on our hands and knees with our backsides exposed for all to see and crawl about or simply sit motionless for minutes and hours and wait as life unfolds according to its own whim or inner law. To be ~ruly ~ware, truly, conscious of any thing°or any one, let alone God, we must be willing and able toleave ourselves and enter into the reality of the thing or person we are with. Counselors call it attending, the rest of us call it listening, the ability to truly be with another, to share that person's experience; to enter into that persoi~'s life. To attend, toe listen, like any form of consciousness, takes self-emptiness. The desert,s unself-conscious silence is paradigmatic of the emptiness we~need to emulate in order to be aware. We cannot find the. emptiness to be truly receptive, truly devoted, truly conscious, if all our senses are already filled to overflowing with se/f-consciousness. ~ Outside my window and down a little hillside, used to stand se.veral ~trees and different sorts of unruly shrubs. When the trees had bee~n cut down and .the shrubs cleared away, lo, there all at once appeared the river that had hid behind them. In a similar sort of way, self-cons.ciousness comprises much of the lushness that blocks off our ability to see beyond ourselves, to perceive the almost insanely mysterious world we live in. The desert, though, is much too hot and dry to produce much vegetation. The aridity of the desert similarly bakes away our own self~onsciousness. We sit and sweat in our deserts until our senses open like pores and we once again can perceive the horizons we obscured ~with ourselves. ~ In the desert we learn unself-consciousness through a form of sensory deprivation. ,There is so little to see and hear in ~the desert, so little to do that we become deadly bored, even with ourselves. As a result., we launch out a ravenous hunt for something or,~anything to see or hear. For ex~ample, fa:sting cleanses t.he palate. After even a~day 9f fasting.e.ven~ the simplest broth tastes remarkably good. So in the desert, when our senses fast, we Harvesting Silence rediscover the beauty of the little and unnoticed things of life, thingS otherwise lost in all the lushness; ~ III There is another quality to deserts, they are excellent places to get lost. There are very few land' marks in a desert. Ev6n the sand dunes shift. That is why people who iraverse the desert wastes often do so at night, when they can at least rise the stars as navigational guides. All of' this is quite distressing, especially to those exp~e~'ienced with desert lifel IQlost of us have lives With Paths well worn from da.ily routines, habitg, and regul~roPatterns of behavior. We seldom stray from those paths and so'seldom face the reality of gettirig lost. For all our-fi~eedom of will and actionl most of us are likg trains committed to a given track. BUt at least that way. our lives are fairly stable, regular, an~ predictable. At ~uch and such a time we do this and that, and th6n the next routine is followed-- a.nd God help those who try to disrupt the pattern. And so we mbve quite confidently and assuredly ~tirough our lush little jungle lives. At any given moment we~kno~v where we are and what comes next. One way of knowing that we have b~en spiritually teleported ~nto a d~sert is when ~the old routine no longgr works. The stability has become ihstead sterility. Or we may find ourselv.es ina degert as a resultof_some "derailment," some experience or event that thro~vs-us off the carefully laid pattern of our lives. Our first response to this is¯ frequently anger, then panic. The anger is a response to the realization of how thin the veneer is to the ¯ iJlusion that we are in control of bUt lives, that we indeed are not the masters ~t:bur destiny. Then come~ the ~anic when we find our lives are increasin.gly Without purpose or direction. The former goa!s no longer seem as satisfying or even worth the effort. The sense of aimlessness grows and deepens until we rffust adfiait that we, our lives, are lost. The trumpets have all died nbw. Their ruckus.was only to set the stage, .like the wihd, earthquake, ahd fire, for "what is to follow. Before the duthority of the trumpets all other sounits quail. Before their power all else stands dumb in awe. The silence of the other sounds forms an open fieldo that draws all attention.to a sblemn, solitary figure. Bravely and boldly I shout out, "The ti~e has come! I hi~ve grown up. Now I am¯ ready to go oui in ~earch of my destiny! I am going out in search of myself to myself. I am laundhing'an expedition whose ~oal it is to discover and encounter ~ / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 God!? Secretly and equally as silent, the ramparts surrounding the king-dom of heaven make ready for this new assault. But don't mistake the actions, they do not raise new battlement, nor do they send out patrols and war parties. Rather, they assemble and make ready the rescue crews that will search for this new expedition's survivors. Many o~us, at one time Or another, do strike out in search of our lives. Our main goals are past exp~.riences of mastery over earlier tasks and duties. Ultimately, these expeditions, sooassured of success, all wind up in the ~me pla, ce~ h.opelessly lost in some or another desert. Our prey, whether pu.rpose, mea0~ ing, desti ~ny, br God had led us.on unexp~ectedly to a place we never intended to go. We followed it fearlessly into l~he desert and sud.denly find it is too late, too late tO go back, too lost to go ahead. Our careful plans, otir former experience~ had not pl:epared us for this. We are lost, empty, alone; well do we fit into the environment of the desert. At times when we mhy feel this way, lost and empty, without meaning and control, in desperate need of guidance and direction, we should not lament, for the strategy is Working. Th~ strategy of ~ear~hing for God is simple: get yourself so hope.lessly lost that God fias nochoice but to go out and find you~ This much is simple, and most p.eople accomplish it without even trying. Unfortunately, it is only half the str.ategy. The rest is much more 'distas~teful but becomes easier to swallow the longer and more hope-l~ sly we. remain lost. The remainder of the° sti'ategy is this: we must be willing ~0 be found'and (this is the clincher) we m~t agree to being found~i on God's terms. The whole magnific~'nt adventure, whether we entered upon it willingly or found ourselves thrust into it, has this as its purpose: agreeing to God's terms for being found, recognizing and. accepting our dependence upon God. I've wandered around in circles for a longtime ~ithout wanting to be found. It's not that I like being lost, it's just that I'm not ready to accept the terms for being found. Don't forl yourself, God's magnanimity is not without its own sort of conditions. God's conditiOns, however, arise not out of stubbornness; they are mediated by necessity. If, for example, a person wants to become an Olympic athlete, one of the conditions that must be met to fulfill that dream is submitting to the rigors of training and practice. Faced 'with those conditions, that person may opt to observe the games rather than participate in them directly: It's not enough to. wants.to be found; one must need it so m~uch that he or she is wilting to le.t go of other things and embrace willingly. ~he ~necessary conditions. 0.ne of the hardest conditions to accept is letting go of the way I would like to go and follow instead the way ! feel led. The reason mhny peoPle get. Harvesting Silence lost to begin with is because they didn't follow the directions they were given. I want my life to lead in this direction but by following it the feeling of hopelessness and aimlessness only-continues more strongly. My alterna- ¯ tives are two: keep going the way I want even if it means staying lost, or giving in and following with greater commitment the way I feel compelled to go. In my ingenuity I present to God a third plan: "Couldn't we both wander around my path together? That way I could go in the direction I want and you would be with me so I wouldn't feel lost. It may not be the waY home but at least it's easier and more scenic than the way you want to go." No,l don't think so. When we find ourselves in a desert, it may be that we need to reassess the path that led us there to begin with, the routines and habits we so blindly foJlow, that we assume are so necessary. The desert silence and emptiness are not a punishment; they are created as the location for finally confronting the truth about our lives. In the desert, God lives and acts and interacts accord!rig to God's own rules and pace of life. The harvest the desert offers may well be a different,'more spontaneous; a freer and more conscious way of life. It may not be as stable and predictable or as important as one of our own choosing, but it may be more conducive for perceiving clearly the necessary presence of God speaking and poking through our well-~orn paths at unexpected times. The ironic thing about deserts is that they are excellent places to be found. In contrast to our often harried lives, deserts are so bleak and stark that God has no trouble finding us.o ° Waiting for Warmth: A February Poem The water's running cold as 1 stand before the mirror waiting for it to warm before I wash and shave and comb my hair. l'm waiting, too, for something else to flow, for a coldness in me to go, warmed in the light of a love that won~ run out as 1 grow,o.ld. ~Neath my winter stillness something stirred. My eyes pooled with melting fears. A quiet spring cleared my doubts away whi!e.washing "my f~ce with tears. Jerome Schroeder, O.EI~I. Cap. Martin Fraternity 843 West GarfieldBlvd. Chicago, IL 60621 Toward a Theology of Health Care Robert A. Brungs, S.J. Father Brungs is Director of the Institute for Theological Encounter with° Science and Technology; His article is based on an address delivered to a meeting of the Health Care. Province of the Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration on the occasion of a week-end of prayer and reflection. Father Brungs may be addressed through his office: ITEST: 221 N. Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. There is always a temptatio.n, when speaking about the role of a specific group in a larger group, to become quite general, or even utopian. I am deliberately trying to turn my back on that temptation to.day. I cannot and will not adequately address the "role of women in the Church"; the most significant reason for this incapability is that I am not a woman. What I hope to do is to set up a rough framework really a set of boundaries --that should be determinative in any discussion of the role of anyone in the Chin:oh. There is an easy language now in vogue. We glibly speak about our "role in the Church": the role of men, the role of ttie women, the role of the priest, and so on. I would submit that the language is inexact, blurring the reality and therefore dangerous to, and possibly even subversive of, our service to God. We do not "play" or "fulfill" roles in the Church; we live our lives in the Church. The Church, as we ~would all agree, is the developing kingdom of God~ It is that seed 'of the final, blessed kingdom which as St. Mark tells us "is sprouting andgrowing;how he [we] does not know. Of its own accord the land produces first the shoot, then. the ear, then the full grain in the ear" (Mk. 4:27-28). "Sh6 [the Church] becomes on earth," as Vatican II states, "the initial building fbrth of that kingdom [of Christ and of God]. While she slowly grows, the Church ~trains toward the consum-mation of the kingdom and, with all her strength, hopes and .desires [italics 24 Toward a Theology of Health Care mine] to be urfited in glory with her King" (Lumen Gentium, 5). I am stiggesting here that our relationship in and withthe Church is absolute. "Our life in the Church" is precisely and only that, namely, our life, our only life. The Church. is not an association of people in which we fulfill some function but which we can leave to perform another function in some other association. It is not like a man or a woman working in a business, and aiso living apart in a family. The Church demands as she must demand--total commitment and total dedication. Once we have put our hand to the plow there is no turning back, no alternative except betrayal. "Role-language," I fear, can finaliy obscure that rock-bottom, basic commitment. Our lives as religious are intrinsically apostolic (and therefore "service") lives 'not roles. That is the promise we have made to God and to which we have bound ourselves by'vows. Having said that, let us look again at our world, our universe in Which Church is, in which we live. We live in a real universe that has (God-given) boundaries. The universe, created and redeemed by God, has a structure, and structure impliesdimit. This universe in which we live, of which we are a part, is limited, even though what we see as its limits may not be the true ones. °We live, because of Christ's life, death, and resurrection, in a new creation: "And for anyone who is in Christ,'there is a new creation; the old creation has gone, and now the new one is here. It is all God's work" (2 Co 5: 17-18). That world in which we live is created in and through the 'Word of God, and the world and all mankind finds its end and goal in the fullness of the Word-made-flesh. This first fact offaith°~bsolutely undergirds and specifies our understandir~g of ourselves/as-human as men and women since that meaning is found'in, and founded upon, the meaning of Christ's humanity. ~ ~. To understand the meaning of our lives in 'the° meaning of Christ's lifr, we must also.understand the meaning of the Christian community, of the Church: "Even if we did once know Christ in the flesh, that is not how we-know him now" (2 Co 5:16). We now know Christ~ sacramentally, in the Church which° is his body. Thus, an understanding of the Church is necessary, along with a spirituality that consciously, prayerfully, and lovingly recognizes the communal aspects ofour lives as Christians. In this community of God's people we undergo the transformation frorri self-absorption (doing our own thing for our own ends), through the cross (the painful death to our own desires), to the resurrection (the loving conformity of our wills to that of.the~Father). Our life in the Church is.the uneven, painful.but joyous response to that most fundamental commandment Christ Jesus hasgiven us: "You must therefore be perfect just as y~ur heavenly Father is perfect'~ (Mt 5:48). Jesus Christ as Lord is the goal, the 26 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 destiny of the entire race as an interpersonal community. The community of Christ's people of which we each are members .in union--is not merely a sociological grouping; it is the sacrament of Christ.present in the world, a prix;ileged community sacramentally, symbolically, representing, fulfilling, and manifesting the goal to. which .we are all directed, namely, the fully established kingdom of God. "But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a consecrated nation, a people set apart to sing the praises of God who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light" (1 P. 2:9). A second fact of fait.h is our membership in a chosen people, in a community set apart to serve and praise the Lord. There are many w.ays of approaching the mystery of Christ and its meaning for an understanding of.our humanity, and, of course, our sexuality. Since we live in a fallen world redeemed, indeed, but not yet t.otal!y so the best we can do as humans, and that haltingly, is to live sacramentally. The authentic human is integral; and we are not. Much of our search for a meaning of the human is a search for an integrity not given us. here. Our physical reality, as sacramental, as symbolic, points to a reality~that it does not contain. We live not in terms of fruition but in hope. We.cannot now co.reprehend the truth of the fully human; we can only live toward it. To seek a non-fallen expression.of ourselves as human in a yet-to-be-fully-redeemed world is to seek for that which will not be given. This, t~en;js a third fact: we are dis-integral, still seeking our fulfillment as human in the full and final kingdom of God. But, looking ahead.to that final kingdom, there are some things we can say. The~ Scriptures offer us no systematic definition of the human, nor.do they intend to do.so. Full unders~tanding of our humanness is to. be had only in that final kingdom which is still shrouded in mystery. But we can say some things even though their full meaning eludes us. ,.They ca~ at least serve as. guides~. For e.xample, in the fulfilled kingdom of God we shall be integrally human. We don't understand what human integrality is, but we do know some things it is not. We shall not be beasts, nor shall we be angels. The Catholic doctrine is that we shall have bodies, identifiably and recogniz~ably our own and, therefore, specific. We shall remain enfleshed. The imperfections and disabilities that are ours in this world will fall away. We have no detailed knowledge of the risen body, and both Saints Paul and A.ugustine remind us of the futility of speculation in this realm. Biat we know that we are not seeking a return to some "golden age'--back to the Garden of Eden in .order more fully to understand ourselves. Adam and ¯ Eve are not the models of our final humanness. Rather, Christ and.Mary the second Adam and second Eve as integral humans, integrally related and united, contain all the meaning of our authentic humanness. Toward a Theology of Health Care Thus we have a fourth fact: our fullmeaning will be found in Christ.and Mary integrally united with each other. In summary: in any discussion of our lives in the Church, we must remember some facts of faith: (l) our understanding of ourselves is to be found in the meaning of Christ's humanity; (2) that.~neaning includes our membership in a community set apart to serve and praise God, as he wills it; (3) in the present course of salvation history, we are disintegral and seek ¯ our fulfillment elsewhere, in the final Kingdom of God; (4) our full meaning as humans--as individual specific human beings incorporated into God's community' -is to be found in Christ and Mary, in the integral unfallen r~lationship between them. At this point, you might well be asking if I have indeed avoided the tempta~tion I mentioned at the beginning. These are general statements, it is true. But I believe they are necessary to locate our discussion. What they say, essentially, is that we do not live in a vacuum. Our lives, our options, and our meaning are not unlimited. There are precise, significant limita: tions in ourattempted service of God. These limitations are summed up in that term we use so often: "The Will of God." Yet the Will of God most often remains mysterious as it must, Since it is only in fulfillment that we shall know as we are known. But the mystery is not one of total ignorance. The boundaries in which that Will is to be followed have been :revealed to us, and the four facts I have mentioned above are a part of that boundary within which.~ we are:to act. Still, we must get more specific. You are not just women; you are Consecrated women. More, you are not just consecrated women; you are members of" the Franciscan Sisters Of Perpetual Adoration, and then, laboring in their Health Care Province. These facts also act as:bouridaries within which your .service of .Christ and of his Church occur. They are not restrictions in that service; rather they are charismatic delineations of your promiseit service. They represent ybur response to the needs of the community of God's People, a response prompted by the Charism of your foundress. That spirit is a determining factor in how you face the future of your apostolic commitment to ~the growth of God's kingdom qn the Church. But as we all know a charism is given to an individual for the good of the community, for the growth and' strengthening of the Lord's Body. And within that Body ~ there is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of services to be done, but always to the same Lord;oworking in all sorts of different w.ays in different people, it is the same God who is working in all of them. The particular way in which the Spirit is given to each person is ,28 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 for a good purpose. One may have th, e gift of preaching with wisdom given him by the Spirit; another may have the gift of preaching instruction given him .by the same S.pirit; and another the gift of faith given b~- the same Spirit; anot ~her again the gift of'healing, through this one Spirit; one, the power of miracles; another, prophecy; another the gift of recognizing spirits; another the gift of tongues and another the ability to iiaterpret them. All these are the work of ofie and the same Spirit, who distributes different gifts to different'people just a'~ he chooses" (1 Co 12:4-11). St. Paul goes on to discuss the Body of Christ, and says: "Now you together are Christ's body; but each of you is a different partof it'(12:27). We are each of us unique, a unique gift of Godto his Church and finally to his fulfilled kingdom. Each of, us I, you, each human .being has a unique, irreplaceable, never-to-be-repeated history with God. Each of us has been given an unrepea~ble set of talents and lack thereof, perfections and lack thereof, strengths and concomikant weaknesses. And each of us .has responded to God out of this being which is ours alone. Each.of us has lived in a perfectly irreproducible history, with relationships to other humans, to other segments of creation and to God. Each, in brief, brings to the Church and to God irreplaceable, unique gifts that cannot be substituted for by anyone else. And it is as individuals that we live in and help make up the commun, ity of God. We live in that community, bear responsibility in it, live out our love in it so deeply that our being a member of that community becomes an irreplaceable part of us and we of it. Although it may seem paradoxical, we are finally "communal individuals." As with each of us as ,individuals, so with those consecrated families of men and women within the Body of Christ. Each religious family--as with each Christian family has its own unique history in the Church, and unique gift to the Church, and unique service to the .People of God. In discussing our role in the Church, we must combine our'individual gifts and history with ~the mission that our religious family has offered to the Body of Christ and which that Body has accepted. We cannot, in brief, deny our gifts nor our history. This weekend you will be praying and Speaking fromoyour own history as a religious comm.unity and from your own gifts particularly your gifts of being women--and there I can be of no help to you. But I believe I can say some things of value with regard to your apostolic charism. And it is to a discussion of this apostolate that I intend to move now. It would be well to consider the place of the healtti care apostolate in the life of the Church. The Health Care Al~ostolate In the ninth chapter of thb Gospel according to St. Luke we. read: Toward a Theology of Health Care / 29 ~He [Jesus] called the Twelve together and ~gave them power and authority over all devils and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal. ~ This gives a clear link between proclaiming the kingdom of God and healing. Thus it is very important for us to articulate and specify the reasons for the Church's institutional presence in and through you and your partners and helpers in the apostolate of health care, or bett~r, of heating and caring. If the Church is going successfully to face decisive changes in health care, and if you are goings,to continue, and deepen, your service to the Church in caring and curing, it is necessary for us to understand as fully as possibie the Catholic dimensions of health care. What are the reasons for the Church's long and deep involvement in health care an involvement that has been so eloquently witnessed by the Work of your community for a century? Is health care--or let us say it better, the care of the sick, the aged, and the weak--is this care something that the Church entered upon historically because no one else was doing it? Or is there something in the very heart of Christian reality that calls forth no, demands such activity? I believe that each one of us here wouldin.stinctively, and rightly, respond that the care of the sick, the weak, and the aged is not peripheral 'to the Gospel. Rather we instinctively know that it is a duty imposed on us by the Lord. There are at least three central reasons for the Church's emphasis on the healing.apostolate that I would like to mention today. They are not exclusive in the sense that there are no others, nor are they cleanly separable from each other. But each of them is very important to our fuller understanding of what the. health care apostolate means to the Church. And each may be helpful as you discern your role of mission in, to, and for the Church. Tl~e ;Great Commandment .First, we have the "second greatest" commandment that our Lord passed on to us: to "love our neighbors as.we love ourselves." This, as we all know, is given a very concrete specification in chapter twenty-five of St. Matthew's gospel:. "For I vbas hungry and you gave.me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink; I was a stranger and yo.u made me welcome'; naked and you clothed me, sick and'you visited me, in prison and you'came to see me . Insofar as you did this to one of the leasLof these brothers of mine, you did it to me.~ The care of the ~sick, then, is one of the ways in which we Christians ~ / Re?iew for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 carry out that new and solemn command of Christ, given to .us on the night before he died to heal us all: "This is my commandment: 'love one ~nother as I have loved you." Before it is anything else, then, the care of the infirm is an immediate, direct response in charity to the love that our Lord has shown to us. In itself, this would be reason~ enough for the Church's presence in health care. But there are at least two other important aspects basic aspects, really to her involvement in this apostolic work as well. Messianic Sign The first of these'other-reasons can be found in the seventh chapte.r of St. Luke's gospel. The pertinent passage is solemn enough to permit a rather long citation: ,~The disciples of John gave him all this news [the healing of the centurion's servant and the raising from the dead of the.son of th~ widow of Nain, which Luke mentions immediately prior], and John, summoning two of his disciples.~, ~ent them to the'Lo'~-d to ask, "Are you the one who is to come, or must we wait° for someone else?" When the men ieached ~Jesus ¯ they said: "John the B~aptist has sent us to you to ask, 'Are you the one °°°who is to come or have we'to wait for someone else?" " It was just then that he cured many people of diseases and afflictions and of evil spirits, and gave the" gift ~of sight to many ~. who were blind. Then he gave the messengers their answer: "Go back and tell John what you have seen and .o heard: the blind see again, the lame walk, lepers are Cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised to life, the Good News is proclaimedto the poo.r an.d happy is the man who does not lose faith in me." In this passage Jesus is, in effect, telling John the Baptist that he (Jesus) is doing that~work which Isaiah foretold would accompany the presence of the Messiah among his~ people. Thesd acts of healing were the oOnly credentials he would give to the one Who was to go before him. The blind seeing, the lame walking, the deaf hearing, and so on, all these are witnesses to the presence of the Messiah among his people. Th'ey are the living witnesses to the da~vning of. the messianic times--the only witness John would receive. But now the Messiah arid Lord is still present to his people sacramentally in the Eucharist. And the Church~the .Bride in her health~ care apostolate, in her working to heal the sick and care for the infirm, witnesses to that eucharistic presen~ of the Lord. In her work to help~the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers be cleansed in all that-~-she says to us, and to the world, that the Messiah and Lord is still among-us. Thus, caring for: and healing the sick is a quasi-sacramental, witness .to the continuance of the messianic times inaugurated by Jesus Christ and continuing in the Church until he finally returns to us-in glory to make all Toward a Theology of Health Care things fight. The distress in the world illness~ decay, and death--which revelation tells ug is the result of sin, is slbwly being overcome in the Church, and will indeed be overcome completely in heaven. It is the task of the Church to witness to the life of him who is her life. By her existence she witnesseg to'his existence. By her involvement in the care for and healing of the ill, the oppressed, and the poor-:through your commitment and your devoted work--she says both that the Lbrd is still with us sacrfiment~illy, andthat; when he returns to us in all his glory, we shall all be healed of all our infirmities. Your work in hospitals, then, is a profound statement of our belief that the Lord is with rus still. Thus, on this score as well as that of a direct response in charity, the health care apostolate--since it witnesses to the messianic presence of Christ and to the sacramentality of the present age is central"t6 the faith, to Christian living. It is one of the mbst important .~iays we have to say that "ther6 is a new creation, the old creation has gone, and no~ the new one is here." A Church, that did not witness to the presence of the healing Christ through the~'caringfor and°curing the sick, would be radically unfaithful in her proclamation of the Good News of God's saving presence to his people. SO, let no one disturb you as to the importance, to the centrality to the faith, of your ~apostolic commitment. witness to the Last Time , Thirdly, through you who are engaged in health care as well as in other ways, the Church witnesses to her faith that.°ur bodies will rise to glory through God's powerful gift to us. The resurrection of ohr bodies is one of the great truths entrusted to the Church. It is also one of the truths that we h~,i,e great difficulty'~with, as did the Jews and Greeks. The Jewish Sadducees rejected the notion of the resurrection of the body, and the Greeks were content to.snigger and mock it. In the aftermath of St. Paul's speech in the Areopa~gus in Athens (Ac 17:30-33) we see this nonbelief: God overlooked that sort of thing [thinking that the deity looks like anything in gold, silver, or stone that has been carved and designed by a man] when men were ignorant, but now he is telling everyone everywhere that they must repent, because he has fixed a day when the whole world will be judg&d, and judged in righteousness, and he has appointed a man to be the judge. And God 'has publiciy proved this by raising this man from the dead.- At this mention of rising from the dead, some of them burst out ~ laughing; 6thers said; "We. would like to hear you talk about this again." But it is that ill, corruptible, even corrupting body in the doctor's office ¯ or in the hospital bed that will ris6 into glory! It is that body which you ~2 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb:, 1986 wash or soothe or treat that will be with God forever. There is a serious need right now for the Church to make her instincts on the meaning and significanc~e of the human .body !n our salvation and glorificatio.n more But even now, despite our ignorance, there'are still some things we can s.ay, though not as ~well as we should b~ able. We are not, for exam~ple, saved and glorified in g.eneralities, but in our particularities. We shall, be saved~and glorified as men or. women, as white, black, yellow, or red, as persons of a definite time and place and ethnic background. Our glorified bodies will not be some kind of "generalized matter." These bodies of ours mine and each of yours--are the only. way in which our spirits are manifested in created reality. Our bodies are, and will continue to be, the unique material signature 9four spirits in creation. My spirit,.y0ur spirit., cannot manifest themselves in any old body, but only in my body, on.ly in your body. The union of body ~and spirit that is I--that unique harmony that alone is I is very specific, now and in heaven. This conclusion comes directly from the Church~s dogmati~ position that we shall rise phy.sic.ally, and recognizably ourselves. The health care apostolate--the care of specific people with specific problems, real people who.hurt is one of the most impo .r?tant ways that the Church, the Bride of Christ, has of proclaiming the truth that our bodies, in all their particularities, are sig0ificant, are good, are holy, are-to be saved, are to be glorified. We shall return to this ~notion later on, but for now let us merely say that this belief in, and witness to, the resurrection of our own bodies gives a further intrinsic meaning to the (~hurch's institu-tional concern with and commitment to the healing of the body and caring for the sick. You are saying, by your touch, that this body is significant to salvation and glorification. Changes in Mi~dical Practice ~o ~ It needs no stating here that, as in many other areas of Catiaolic life, there are quite severe stresses in the Catholic health apostolate. This should corrie as no surpris~ to any of us. In fact, if these stresses were not present, we could only conclude either that our health institutions were not providing modern health care, or .that these institutions were no longer Catholic. Since neither conclusion is true, stress is inevitable. Tensions and problems arise from many sources: from profound changes in medical practice itself; from a growing shortage of nuns in ~the health care apostolate; from. a.loss of control of hospital administration and policy; from increasing governmental intervention in health care; and, finally, °from some of the same confusion that is present in the rest of Catholic life. Toward a lheology of Health Care Here, I shall consider only some of the profound changes in medical practice that have occurred in the last quarter century, Even within that relatively narrow area I intend to mention only two aspects, hardware and attitudes. We are aware of the growth of technological medicine which has placed so much new hard~vare between the patient and the doctor, and has raised the cost of medicine so much. This does not imply that technological medicine is bad or is inappropriate, merely that it is different. But the new technology does tend to separate the doctor or nurse from the patient. It tends to emphasize "cure" as "care." It can make the practice of medicine seem more .mysterious and less tiuman to the "patient.' Finally, the proliferation of hardware could (although not necessarily Will) lead the health care professional to an unconscious, indeliberate attitude ~that~the patient is some sort of a "thing" to be "repaired." The growth of this kind of attitude toward patients is but a part of the growth of a technological point of view foward human beings that is occurring in almost all phrts' of western societY. A question for health-care professionals, as for all of our society, is whether or not we are beginning to "lo0k oh human beings as some,things, to be manipulated at whim. The increase in medical technology,.of "hardware," between the patient and the health-care professional demands our attention, but it is not the greatest change inthe practice of medicine in the past twenty-five years. ,Up till now, the greatest impact of this increase in medical technology has probably been in the realm of cost. But the attitudes that can be engendered should not be overlooked. We cab leave this for~a moment so as to look ata far more'profound, and far less discussed, change in medical practice. A ,New Def'mition of Health 0 . Several years ago the ~World Health~Organization (WHO) developed ~and promulgated a new definition of health that reflects a significant shift in 'medical practice. To an extent, this shift is the source of much of the stress in the health-care apostolate. I used a relatively, neutral term--~ reflects--to describe the activity of WHO. To say that the WHO definition caused the shift would be an overstatement. Probably it would be more accurate to state that the WHO definition reflected a Change in attitude already well begun. Whatever cause and effect may be, there is a significant difference between the WHO definition and what most of us lay people think medicine (and health care) has been and ought to be. WHO defined "health" as a state of complete physical mental and social well-being. With a new definition of "health" can new definitions of .34 /.Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 "health care" be far behind? There are several key words in the WHO definitio~n th.at ought to be looked at carefully since ~hey imply a shift even a radical shift in our understanding of health care. The first word that needs consideration is "complete." "Complete" contains a very c.urious notion indeed. This word would have us believe, against all available evidence, that complete well-being is available in °this life. If one were so inclined, one could find in the concept of complete well-being a.denial of many Christian beliefs, from a denial of original sin to a denial of the existence of heaven. Christianity, through its teachingon original sin, warns us against expecting complete well-being on any level, in this world. It is only in heaven that total human justice and well-being will be achieved. The WHO definition, at this level, becomes a salvational statement, premised on the notion that salvation (complete healing of our ills) is achievable somehow through human knowledge. But let's not pursue this aspect any further here.Just on the pragmatic level, we all live with the knowledge that we are all going to die sometime. That knowledge in itself is incompatible with "complete well-being." Perhaps the word "complete" was thrown, into the definition just to make it look better. Still, in a world where health-care resources are at best gravely limit~ed, and where costs are. extremely high and getting higher, the notion of "complete. well-being" is nonsense. More, it is, as has been stated, anti-Christian if it is taken seriously. Health as Social Well-being Perhaps the most significant concept in the definition, insofar as it impacts on Catholic health care, is the relation of "health'~' to "social well-being." This statement reflects probably the greatest single shift in medical practice over the last thirty years, and the one of most immediate concern to the Catholic understanding of health care. It is centered in ttiose "medical" practices that have most agitated Catholics in health care;. the wide-spread dispensing of contraceptive medications and mood-altering drugs, abortion, and contraceptive sterilizations. They all find their rationale in the phrase "complete. social well-being." Most dispensation of contraceptive pills, IUD's, and so forth, have had very little.to do with the physical state of the women to whom they were given: The same, of course; can be said of abortion, contraceptive sterilization, and of course, the pervasive use of mood-expanding and mood-depressing drugs.¯ More often than not, the contraceptive and abortive technologies are resortedto for socio-economic reasons, or simply because the "patient" (or should we say "client"?.) did not~esire another baby. The use of these technologies, in by° far the largest number of cases, .does not serve the-pursuit of physical Toward a Theology of Health Care health, but rather the woman's (or her consort's) quest for convenience, the absence of distress, material possessions, and so f6rth. In a word, the health care profession has efitered--with seemingly little reflection into the "happiness-business." "This means," as George Will has stated in an article in The Washington Post, "that happiness is a medical commodity; happiness is the doctor's business. That, in turn, means almost everything is the doctor's business, so. medicine becomes a classification that excludes nothing, and hence does not classify." This change of attitiade in medical practice is of enormous implication" and concern for Catholic health care. Is the Catholic health concern to be directed exclusively to the removal of pathological barriers to good health and/or to 'the alleviation'of physical painand distress? or is it to be directed to "happiness," to "complete. social well-being"? This is~an immediate and very seribus question. And it is a questi.6n that is going to grow even more urgent in~,the future. Here, it might be well to look ahead just a bit to get a wider perspective of what these questions imply for Catholics, both individuals and institu-tions, in the rest of this century. . Future Questions There is a very good chance that the notion of"health" as "complete. social well-being': could easily become, within the next twenty-five years, the "complete. :. well-being of society. "This is not atall as farfetched as it may seem at first blush. Letus look at this carefully because it will have an almost unimaginable effect on the Church herself and, hence, on her institutional health care apostolate. We are now facing the greatest technological (as well as cultural and especially religious) challenge we human beings have ever know~f: the growing capacity technologically to master ourselves: For the first time in human history we.face a technological Challenge so powerful that it will have to be met primarily in terms of human ends; not merel3~ in t~rms of' techniques, means, and instrumentalities. These new techniques are so "powerful that any overreliance upon "bioethics," or even medical-moral theology, will be misplaced. The grave problem both for society and for the Church is one of meaning, not one of means. Among other things, any understanding of medical practice--in the light of emerging biotechnologies and bio-industries--must include the contemporary scientific-technological frame of mind out of which value judgments are most likdy to be made. The scientific-technological frame of mind is basically instrumental, since it has grown out of a mathematical worldview. That frame of mind looks on all things, human beings included, as essentially quantifiable and ~16 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 manipulable. Michael Zimmerman has stated it most succinctly: "For us [contemporary humanity] to be means to be re-presented, or transformed and rearranged, according to. our desires and projects." As science and technology increasingly turn. toward knowledge of and power over the human., this spirit of transformation, applied to society on a broad scale, will become increasingly worrisome. Will our society feel that these new technologies will achieve their l~otential on an ad hoc, individual level? It seems doubtful. Rather, it seems° more likely that it will be decided that the full potential of biotechnology and bio-industry .can. be achieved only through systematic application across the society, i,e., by a methodical and methodological application. A~ .systematic technological intervention into the human requires some con-trolling ideological consensus of what it means to be human. These new p0we~, to be applie~d systematically on a society-wide basis, must be tied to some dominant notion of the human. It is important to discover which systdm is likely tO be dominant. With biotechnological capability, the dominant notion of medicine will no longer be returning people to some generally accepted norm of health, but rather the creation of new norms of health. That is to say that these new capacities will be directed finally to building new human beings. Th~ principal reason for any society-wide application of biomedichl or biogenetiC technologies is more order, less randomness, in the human situatibn. In consid~ering changes in the human to be passed on to future generations in order to develop new norms of health, one is really talking about eugenics. It is necessary for us to realize that the proposals being made for the use of biotechnological power will be directly aimed at buildi~ng a eugenic, society. Any.s0ciety-wide advance in improving the human stock will inevitably demand new criteria for social (and medical) judgment. As we move from con~ei'n for the physical health of individuals to the well-being of society, br 6f the species, what criteria will be applied to the medical use of bio-scientific discovery? It is most likely one is tempted to say necessary that the criteria for the social applications of, bioscience will be,the basic canons of-experimental science0wedded to the desires and demands.of the dominant cultural system. The three canons of experimental science are simplicity, predictability and reproducibility. In the. technological mode, "simplicity" becrmeso efficiency. Any rational attempt at eugenics demands a "predictable" product. Without such a predictable result, one might as well be content with what we have now. Moreover, if these predictable results are not "reproducible,~' eugenics must remain a fleeting dream, because random- Toward a Theology of Health Care ness will not have been overcome. As the philosopher, Charles Frankel, has stated: The most astonishing question of all po~ed by the advent of biomedicine, . probably, is why adults of high intelligence and considerable education so regularly, give themselves, on slight and doubtful provocation, to unbounded plans for remaking the race . Wight unites the Puritan radicals, the Jacobins, the Bolsheviks, the Nazis, and the Maoists is the deliberate intention to create a "new man," to redo the human creature by design [italics mine] . The partisans of large-scale eugenics plannings, the Nazis aside, have usually .been people of notable humanitarian sentiments. They seem not to hear themselves. It is that other music that they hear, the music that says that there shall be nothing random in the world, nothing independent, nothing moved by its own vitality, nothing out of keeping with some idea: even our own children must not be our progeny but our creation. This "nothing random," "nothing ind.ependent" is the hallmark of experimental science. In the laboratory, the. system under investigation must be as tightly closed as possible. No random variations can be tolerated if the results are to be,reproducible. If the variables cannot be accounted for and controlled, no valid experimentation is possible. The systematic social application of biotechnology based on the canons of experimental science demands the closing ~of the social system and demands that no random, uncontrolled variations take place. In brief, the social system will have to become :the laboratory. Laboratory science is necessarily based on quantification and requires complgte freedom to transform and rearrange the 15asic structure of matter. If such science is to be applied to human beings in any kind 0f a collective fashion, it will demand the unrestricted control of social life. Judging from proposals now being made by many social planners not .to be confused with sociologists these technologies will be used in such a systematic fashion. We,can already see an example of this in the "culling process" in the widespread practice of abortion for :'fetal indications" to remove the burden of the care of such persons from society. The widespread socially orientate°d application of biotechnology~ will not be directed toward individual therapy, as medicine has been in the past. At best such application can be said to be "therapeutic" for society, for the "good of the species," or for some other abstraction. The notion of "nothing random in the world, nothing independent, nothing moved by its own vitality, nothing out of keeping with some idea" should alert us immediately to the source of the dominant social ideal being presented to us as the basis of the social use of these novel technologies. We have here~ ~11 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 in fact, a Gnostic salvation scheme that is essentially anti-Christian: "Gnostic" is taken from the Greek word for knowledge and refers to all those heresies that would provide salvation through human knowledge. Here we have anothel in a long list of salvation schemes oriented toward that final state When justice, .achieved solely through human effort, ~ will pervade the eiirth in historical time. It postulates the temporal perfectibility of the human and of creation. Biotechnology ra.ises questions that have to do with ends and purposes,~that depend on a deep understanding of the human. !n recent "advances," the question has always been set by the "innovator." The question has always been posed in favor, of the specific short term goal of the innovator; usually in a sentimental form. Take the three great reproductive ~technologies of the last twenty-five years: contra-ceptibn,~ abortion, and °"test-tube babies." In none of the issues has the question been posed beyohd short-term individual effects. Thes~ questions (with the answer almost~given) have been: "How can you think of denying people the techhology available to regulate and control the number of children they will have?" ',How can you deny a woman the ~right to those technologies.that will guarantee her control over her own body?" "How can you deny a~marfied couple, deeply in love,.a biological child of their own?" There is a thread common to each of these questions. They ignore history. They take for granted that individual acks of people ("between consenting adults, and so forth") are self-contained and have no relevance either for society or history. Nonetheless, the broadei" questions, must posed. The. meaning of the technology involved in things like contraception, abortion, and in vitro fertilization is critical in any approach to Catholic health care. Across the biotechnological spectrum we have moved from "sex without babies" (contraception and abortion) to "babies without sex" (in vitro fertilization and cloning.) ~ ~ The separation of sexual union from procreation (through contracep-tion and abortion) was, and is, necessary to build a social attitude willing to consider a~ human being as a product of technological achievement, as we now have with the successful birth of a "test-tube baby.," We 6annot allow ourselves to look at these new technologie.s only in themselves, without connection either to What has come before and what is most likely coming in the future. To treat them only in-themselves is to forego qiving in history,~ As has been stated several times, the essential question facing us in' the advance of biological science, technology, and industry (along with its implication for rriedicine) is ~-what it means to be human. We must face squarely whatever costs to human freedom and dignity that might be Toward a Theology of Health Care involved in these new technologies. In vitro fertilization, for instance, is not only some benign new technique that' will be used only to help"~ some Unfortunate, infertile couple have its own biological child. It can provide such an opportunity, but it is also the linchpin in the construction of a fully orchestrated eugenics program. We would be naive, even blind, if we ignore the eugenic probabilities thus opened up. o : Our society and this is especially needed in the Catholic approach to medicine--still has the opportunity to decide what description of "the human" it wishes to call its own. A society based on:laboratory models and techniques is not inevitable unless'we choose either the description of the human as essentially malleable, tO be transformed; to be rearranged, to be disposed of at Will, or else choose not to. think about these things at all; There is already sufficient momentum built into biotechnological advance to arouse serious anxiety unless we clearly and cleanly face ~in issue whose outcome is so momentous to our society and especially to the Church. To do nothing in:this matter-is a powerful statement in favor of'this momentum. And the apostolate of health care will be the first to feel this challenge. '~ ~ What Now? :When St., Paul was dragged before the Sanhedrin in Jerusalem, he exclaimed: "It is for our hope in the resurrection of the dead that° I am on trial'~ (Ac 23:6). And it is for our belief in the resurrection of the body that we are .on trial today. And nowhere does this trial have a greater impact than on those religious whose life is dedicated to the care and cure of the sick and the infirm. As was mentioned earlier, one of the faith-bases of our health care apostolate as an institutional involvement of the Church is the witness to ther meaning, the significance and dignity, 6f the human body in our salvation and glorification. We are not spirits using a body that we will some day leave behind, nor bodies merely moved by a spirit. We are the harmonious union of body and spirit. Neither "aspect of that union can be enhanced at the expense of the' other; neither can be mutilated 'for the sake of the other. Much of our .medical. (and social) attitudes toward the body are at least implicitly dualistic. We speak and act as though we were "persons" (somehow really disembodied) using a body. Often enough we seem to consider our personality as purely spiritual. This simply is not true! Our personalit3~ is spiritual-material. We are not,: nor will we ever angels. We cannot treat our bodies merely at whim without inflicting severe damage on ourselves. Many (if not all) of the reasons given for the nontherapeutic practices in medicin are couched in terms expressive of the 40 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 dualism of "using my body" or having "control over my body.", This is true, by the way, even of the majority report of the Papal Birth-Control Commission prigr to the issuance of Humanae ~Vitae. Despite its overwhelming concentration on the body, the modern attitude, even the medical attitude, is basically spiritualistic. This is seen even in the use of "person" in. liberation rhetoric. In essence, it is a call for "neuterization.'. There are no "persons"~ in this sense in which the word is so often used. There are rather on.ly womenoand men~ Persons are by nature specifically bodies, as men or women, as black,° yellow, red, or white, with a specific ethnic backgrgund, and so on. We are not,going to be saved and glorified as a "human~_nature.'' We are going to be saved as ourselves and this includes our accidents as well as our substance. The Catholic Premise It is n_ecessary for us as Catholics to develop a deeper,, more explicit u~nderstaiading of our bodies. This burden of enriching the Church falls on cache.of us, but most urgently on theologians (the~ theoreticians) and on those health-care professionals (the practitioners) working together in a communal defense of the Church's very profound instinct about the holiness and sacramentality of our bodied existence. It is in the area of ah explicit doctrinal understanding of that.sacredness and sacramentality that our approach to, such~questions as technologies of contraception, abortion, contraceptive sterilization and laboratory conception must be made. Here especially, male and female, practitioner and theoretician, we must all work together in a fruitful, enlightening, enriching defense of the sacramentality and holiness of bodied life. Together,-we must recognize~ defend, and enrich the Church's instinct that we worship God only as the bodied creatures he made us. Continually the Church i~ accused of "physicalism" in her understanding of sexual morality .--~-~ and, let's face it squarely, most of the complaints raised about the Church's, position on many medical practices are concerned with reproductive technologies of one kind or another. ~VCe hear very few, if any, complaints about the Church's position on the use of prosthetic devices artificial limbs,:pacemakers, or (sometime in the future) the implantation of microprocessing chips in the brain to enhance our calculational ability. No, the .real arena, of struggle is reproductive medicine. And here the Church is.accused--both by doctors and moral theologians, or ethicists as they like.to be called now of physicalism because it defends "the natural.,," But what is really involved in this "defense of the natural" is not a blind anti-technological stance, nor is it prudery, nor is it physicalism, nor.is it some kind of old-fashioned nostalgia. Rather, it is the Church's realization Toward a Theology of Health Care / 41 that, male and female, we are in the image of God, and that our sexuality is absolutely tied to our worship of God. The Church's stance is not anti-technology, but it is pro-worship. This has many :more doctrinal ramifica-tions than we can go into here, but it at least means that we cannot technologically interrupt or short-circuit the woi'shipful communication of life-giving potentiality. This is not some old-fashioned "physicalist" view, as some moralists would have us believe. The Church's view is rather hopeful proclamation that we spiritual-material creatures can escape the narrow-ness and absurdity that comes from the consideration of our bodies as "secularized," without sacramental, life-giving, value. Thus, both on the level of dedication to health care and as women, you have the burden and opportunity of enriching the Church's understanding of our bodied life. This is one very significant aspect of your lives as women in the Church. Your vocation places you at the point of conflict on two whole sets of issues. The first is the true exaltation of the feminine both in the Church and in society. The second is health care: The world is telling us that the prime function of the body--and especially of a woman's body---is pleasure. It is saying equivalently that it is an elegant toy. But as Christian men and women, we must say that it is far more than that. Apart from anything else it is a vehicle of the sacramental imparting of the Holy Spirit. Not even God can affect us without some, bgdily medium--(though perhaps 1 had better be careful about saying what God cannot do!) Mar~ ~s Model In terms of your lives in the Church, I would venture only one suggestion, andl I will cast that in a paraphrase of St. Paul's statement to the Philippians: "Let that heart be in you that w.as in Mary." I believe this is tremendously important. The place of Mary in salvation history has not been as fully developed as it can be; It has not been sufficiently pondered. She has, on the contrary, been treated in a very shallow, even if chivalric fashion--"One just can't say enough nice things about Mary." So much of the writing (and praising) of Mary could .almost be summed up in the words of the song "Oh, look at her; ain't she pretty?" But the Mary I'm suggesting to you is one with a terrible, vocation; to stand at the foot of the cross and accept that horror and pain into,her life, There was nothing sweet or sentimental.about it. She had to accept that her Son, part of her,~ was dying. In a sense, she had to ratify in her life the fulfillment of Christ's life on earth (death and resurrection) as she had ratified his humanity (in the Incarnation). Let us look to Mary. As the Fathers of Vatican II have stated (Lumen Gentium, nn. 55-56): 42 Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 She stands out among the poor and humble of the Lord, who confidently await and receive salvation from him. With her, the exalted Daughter of Sio.n, and after a long expectation of the promise, the times were at length fulfilled and.'the new.dispe~nsation established. All this occurred when the Son of. God, took a human nature from her, that he might in th~ mysteries of his flesh free man from sin~ ~ ° The Father of mercies willed that the consent of the predestined mother sliould precede the Incarnation, so that just as a woman contributed to death, so also a woman should contribute tO life. This contrast" w~ verified in.outstanding fashion by the mother of Jesus. She gave to the world that very life which renews all things, and she was enriched by God with gifts befitting such a role. The unity inherent in the "two-in-one flesh" theme (see Gn 2:14 and Ep 5) is the unity of Christ and-his mother at the moment of the Incarnation the unity by which the Holy Trinity is truly present in history. That unity is the creation of the Church at Pentecost in which the Holy Spirit is truly given. The Church is constituted, as Mary is constituted, by the~presence of the Spirit which is the gift of Christ, a creative Spirit. That unity is constituted also in the worship of the Church in. which the Church comes to be by the presence of her Risen Lord in that sacrifice by which he saves. That statement may seem on a first.hearing to be somewhat vague and abstract, so let'stry to make it clearer. Mary's place in'God's saving history was to be asked to accept God's New Covenant with his people. She said "Yes." And that New Covenant that God offered was the Son of God-made-flesh.' Mary's accepta~nce was not merely passive. Her receptivity was creative; the.humanity of Christ was her gift--remember the Council's words "The Son of God tOok a human nature from her. "' At that point Mary and Christ enter into a relationship of the masculine and the feminine that is integral (both are sinless), total, and which will endure forever. It is that relationship (again of masculine and feminine), that "two-in-one-flesh" unity of Christ and Mary, which provides the meaning of the fully redeemed creation. Please note several things here:°we are not putting Maryand Christ on the same level, either as though Mary were divine or Christ"only human; we are not talking about a relationship that we Understand ° it is a union that is integral, i.e., fully redeemed. We don't understaiad this, but we can make some statements. Mary is the ideal and exemplar (see Lumen Gentium, n. 63) of the Church now and of the whole creation ultimately perfected. Mary is the true and full splendor of the created order. She stands in a relationship with Christ in terms of her femininity. Because she is the mother of God, Toward a Theology of Health Care Theotokos, she is understood as the model and archetype of the Church. If creation in Christ (creation fully reestablished and conformed to the Father's will) is the meaning of creation, then Mary is the one complete creature ever created. Her constitution as immaculate expresses the truth not only of the feminine but also of creation and of the Church, a °truth summed up in the term "Mother of God." Or again as Vatican II says (Lumen Gentium, n. 68): In the bodily and spiritual glory which she possesses in heaven, the Mother of jesus contihues in this present world as the image and first flowering of the Church as she is to be perfected in the world to come. Likewise, Mary shines forth on earth, until the day the Lord shall come (see 2 P 3:10), as a sign of sure hope for the pilgrim People of God. Finally, .let us note one more thing. We usualJy associate Mary's virginity with God himself being the Father of Christ; that is to say, the fact of no human male intervention in the birth of Christ accounts for her virginity. But that is merely a factual explanation that does. not even approach the depths of this mystery. It is of enormous importance for us to note that Mary's virginity is fruitful in a child. This is something that we less-than-integral, sinful, creatures cannot yet understand. But if Mary is indeed the exemplar and splendor of creation--and as the mother of the Body of Christ in all its aspects, she is--then somehow fruitful virginity will be the final human posture in the perfected creation. Somehow or other, as fulfilled in Mary, the splendor, the fullness of creation is feminine. Please remember that what I have been talking about is terribly mysterious, and none of us knows any detail, nor, indeed the full reality. In a sense, I have been. discussing poetry rather than a well worked out theology. But that theology has to come; the truth of the feminine depends on it. And it has to come from the prayerful, feminindy devoted lives of women in the Church. Conclusion Well, then, where does all this leave us? Particularly, where does it leave women in the Church who have promised their lives to Christ in the mission of healing? It leaves them precisely where most of us would rather not be, namely, at the intersection of those two lines of severe conflict that I mentioned earlier. They stand with, and in some way as an extension of, Mary, at the foot of the cross. This was her sublime call, to accept within her life first that child whose Incarnation in her was the will of the Father. Then she had to accept within herself the death of that one whose life she had spent her life serving. 44 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 I do not believe that it is old-fashioned or wrong-headed to state that women's love is especially creative. It is the life of the woman to accept, and having accepted, to nurture new life. We are waiting for that continuing new life in the Church. All that I have offered here is another invitation to the Cross of the Lord Jesus Christ. All I can say about this is that there is a good precedent for the offer. To fulfill their lives as women in the Church committed to the service and healing of the ill, the aged, the infirm, religious women in the health-care profession witness to the radical importance and significance of womanhood and the healing love of God. On both accounts they will be reviled by the contemporary world. God offered the First Covenant and the Last Covehant to women: to Eve who refused to nurture it and so brought no new life to the world, and to Mary who did accept it and brought forth and nurtured that new life who is the Christ. Adam's ratification of Eve's refusal brought death; Christ's ratification, of Mary's ac~ceptance brought life. (Note that both the male and the female are involved in both covenantaloffers). The cross! I remember vividly one of the.episodes that Fr. Teilhard de Chardin wrote about in one of his books. He was writing of his life as a chaplain in the French army at Verdun in 1916. On one afternoon there was a more than usually brutal battle for a small hill called Froideterre. Shortly afterward in a moment of quiet, Teilhard reflected in his diary on the battle of Froideterre. He mentioned the total absurdity in which all these young men died. Then he thought to himself that someday the French government would erect a monument on that hill and wondered what that monument ought to be. It occurred to him that, in view of the horror and absurdity of that battle, only a cross could memorialize that battlefield; only in the Cross could such absurdity be redeemed. In our own lives, too, the absurdity can be redeemed only in the cross. Only there shall we find any meaning for ourselves. The Lord God never promised us anything in this world save a share in his Cross. I hope I have intimated that there are enormous riches embedded in the Church's demand that we consider our bodied lives as worshipful and worhipping--that we take ourselves, spiritual-material creatures, as seriously as God. Our bodies are not toys; they are temples of the Spirit of the living God. There are no answers presented in these statements. The only real answer we can give is our lived response to God's offers to us. It is here, and only here, although it requires much faith and effort, that we can base the health care apostolate and your womanly lives in the mission of healing this sadly abused world and its people. Unoriginal Sin and the Grace of the Ordinary Rachel Callahan, C.S. C. In the issue of March/April, 1985, Sister Callahan contributed her article, "The Grace of the Ordinary." Now she takes up the theme again. Sister may still be addressed at the C.S.C. Consultation Center; P.O. Box 1521; Adelphi, Maryland 20783. Sin and grace. There is a paradox in how these two separate, not only distinct but apparently contradictory realities are so enmeshed in the human experience. This article is written out of a profound sense of grati-tude that everything, including our sinfulness, can be "grace" because of the transforming touch of a God who calls himself Love. When I was a child growing up in a small New England town which still had its ethnic parishes, one of my Irish aunts always used to go to the Italian parish for confession. I asked her why she did this. She laughed and told me that no matter what she said to the old Italian pastor he always listened and said in his still broken English: "Now for you penance, once the beads--and go and sin some more." The man was legendary in town as a down-to-earth, holy person who reached out to everyone. While his send-off from the sacrament might at first sight :seem a little unorthodox, it was profoundly real. My aunt never thought it was broken English but only good human sense. When we stop to reflect on the human experience, sometimes it's hard to separate sin and grace. My most gracious actions which genuinely further the kingdom are tainted by motives of selfishness or pride. My most secret or frightening sin carries seeds of grace. Human motivation is so complex that to try to sort out categorically all the sin from the grace can sometimes lead to an inward-turning self-absorption so that energy for 45 46 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 the-kingdom gets lost. This is in no way meant to deny the reality and efficacy of discernment of spirits but only to suggest that in the complexity of human experience we try not to be too judgmental even witli ourselves. The Lord reminds us that the wheat and the chaff grow together till the harvest. Becoming a grim reaper of the weeds will also damage the wheat. In a splendid little book, What Are They Saying About the Grace of Christ?, Brian McDermott, S.J., offers this observation: we need to acknowledge in our quest for social justice and systemic change that to eradicate sin completely from the social structures would in all probability destroy the structure with whatever limited capacity it might contain for good. This doesn't suggest any less dedicated commitment to social justice but simply the reality that in human experience sin and grace are often embedded together. In order to look at this a little more closely let's examine the notions of grace and sin as developmental phenomena. McDermott looks at grace through five vantage points which might be considered developmental stages, certainly not static events. The first moment is grace as accep-tancemi. e, that bed rock, deliciously wonderful good news that God loves us unconditionally, just as we are, no strings attached. This quite over-whelming good news is from our beginning but often our awareness of this is gradual. The deepening, ongoing realization of this reality is the lifelong gracious project that our faithful God has for us. ¯ The second moment of grace is conversion. When Jesus came to his public ministry, the people that drew his special attention were the sick, the sinners, and the Pharisees. Wonderful news he ate with sinners, with the outcast! McDermott points out two foci of conversion. The conversion that we ordinarily think about is Jesus' offer of gracious liberation to the sinner to be converted from his/her sin and the guilt which weighs down, demeans, focuses in on self in condemnation. McDermott highlights another kind of invitation to conversion,-one quite startling. Jesus offered to the Pharisees the invitation to be converted from their goodness. The Pharisees are portrayed as preoccupied with their own goodness, claiming it as their own, and profoundly self-absorbed in their own righteousness. It is a somewhat jarring notion to consider being converted from our goodness. After all, isn't that precisely what we are called to become: more and more "perfect'--(only Lk 6:36 says "compassionate"). But the point is that our focus needs to be on the good God. We are invited to let God be God, i.e., Love, and not be terribly pre-occupied with our spiritual bank accounts. God's grace can never be overdrawn! Both of the movements, the conversion from sin and the equally important conversion from good-ness move us away from self-absorption towards un-self-focused celebration. Unoriginal Sin / 47 God ,saves us and sets us free from both our sin and our goodness. The next three moments of grace ar6 closely linked--discipleship, community, and service. Being learner, student of Jesus, listening, hearing in n~w ways is never finished. As the gracious God works with me I become a "we" person, ministering to and being nourished by the most ordinary kinds of human interactions so that finally the good news of how much I/we are loved gets fleshed out in service. What is amazing is how patient God is in all of this and how impatient we can be. We often try to "run" in his service before we let ourselves "be held" by his acceptance. Early experience of call and vocation often appeals to the desire to serve at a time in human development when we dream great dreams of doing great deeds. And years later, as we live into our limits and learn more and more that all is grace, we learn that God's love is what counts more than our own generosity. Now how does sin fit into this picture. Do we dare think even meta-phorically about sin as grace? First of all, I am using the word "sin" in the biblical sense. One common biblical notion of sin means essentially "miss-ing the mark." Jesus knows how proficient we are at missing the mark. We are by very reason of our human-ness "missers-of-the-mark." Each of us carries not only the generic woundedness of being sons and daughters of Eve and Adam but we ~lso carry what I observe as a psychologist: our own "personalized original sin"--those deficits or traumas in our back-ground that predispose each of us towards brokenness and missing the mark. Let's look at a few examples. Early deficits in parenting, not because of parental malice but because of parental limitations, .or circumstances such as death, illness, or poverty can leave a person bruised or perpetually "hungry." Ordinary needs for nurturance and attention are experienced more intensely, leaving a person feeling very vulnerable or very entitled. Unconscious wishes to make up for deprivation in this area can lead to difficulties in relationship. Either clinging, "take care of me" behaviors or an "I don't need anybody" stance can create interpersonal~problems. And until a person understands and works through this he or she is somewhat captive to these unconscious pulls. Another example of this personalized original sin is genetic makeup. The longer that I work with individuals in therapy the more respectful I become of genetic realities which impact personal!ty as well as hair color. Some persons are more predisposed towards depression, which is a psy-chobiological reality, not simply an emotional state. Studies show a famil-ial pattern in this which suggests both nature and nurture at work. We know that how we think can influence how we feel, and that persons suffering from depression often have to do some work to correct crooked 411 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 thinking, But we also know that this phenomenon is a chemical reality and often needs chemical intervention, much in the same vein that a person with diabetes or malfunctioning thyroid needs medication to balance the system. Anyone who has ever struggled with the day in, day out miasma of a real depression knows that it is not only very painful but also that, despite the fact that many people carry on their lives reasonably effectively, when depressed, one often feels himself or herself to be no good, doing nothing right. Since sometimes we make the mistake of confusing feelings with reality--e.g., "I feel like a bad person, therefore I am a bad person"--these negative feelings about self produce guilt and hopelessness, and it's easy to magnify one's sense of sinfulness in ways that are paralytic. Fortunately combinations of cognitive therapy, exercises and medication, if needed, are very effective in reversing this condition which has a genetic

Issue 43.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1984. ; Pliz~hhihg :the N~Vitiate Process = °~i"~ !~ta~D o"es a Religious Institute Owe Its Members? :,~-~:: A Retreat for the Eighties Volume 43 Number 4 July/August, 1984 RE\'~w FOR Rl~.~(;~otJs ( ISSN 0034-639X). published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. I.ouis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis. MO 63108. Rt-:v~l-:w t:oR Rl~t.l~;~otJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. Louis. MO. © 1984 by Rl~v~l~w ~:OR Rl~l.l~;~Ot~S, Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. I.ouis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per ycar (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write Rl-:Vll.:W ~-oR R~.:t.t~;~otls: P.O. 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Redemptionis Donum: An Expression of Love for Religious John Paul H In his letter of April 3, 1983, to the bishops of the United States inviting them "to render special pastoral service to the religious" of their dioceses and country, Pope John Paul wrote: ". as pastors of the Church, w~ must proclaim over and over again that the vocation to religious life God gives is linked to his personal love for each and every religious." Redemptionis'Donum is a solemn instance of his own efforts to do just that. As such, it forms a fitting cap to the series of articles REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has been publishing in recent issu.es in support of.this episcopal ministry to religious. The text which follows is taken from Origins, April 12, 1984, vol. 13: no. 44. Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ Jesus: 1. The gift of the redemption, which this extraordinary Jubilee Year emphasizes, brings with it a particular call to conversion and reconciliation with God in Jesus Christ. While the outward reason for this extraordinary jubilee is of a historical nature--for what is being celebrated is the 1,950th Anniversary of the Crucifixion and Resurrection--at the same time it is the interior motive that is dominant, the motive that is connected with the very depth of the Mystery of the Redemption. The Church was born from that mystery, and it is by that mystery that she lives thrrughout her history. The period of the extraordinary jubilee has an .exceptional character. The call to conversion and reconciliation with God means that we must meditate more deeply on our life and our Christian vocationqn the light of the Mystery of the Redemption, in order to fix that lift and vocation ever more firmly in that mystery. While this call concerns everyone in the Church, in a special way it con-cerns you, men and women religious, who, in your consecration to God through the vows of the evangelical counsels, strive toward a particular fullness of Christian life. Your special Vocation, and the whole of your life in the 481 41~2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 Church and the world, take their character and their spiritual power from the same depth of the Mystery of Redemption. By following Christ along the "narrow and., hard" way,~ you experience in an extraordinary manner how true it is that "with him is plenteous redemption" (copiosa apud eum redempti.o)? 2. Therefore, as this Holy Year moves toward its close, 1 wish to address myself in a particular way to all of you, men and women religious, who are entirely consecrated to contemplation or vowed to the various works of the apostolate. I have already done so in numerous places and on various occasions, confirming and extending the evangelical teaching contained in the whole of the Church's tradition, especially in the magisterium of the recent ecumenical council, from the dogmatic constitution ~Lumen Gentium to the decree Perfec-tae Caritatis, in the spirit of the indications of the apostolic exhortation Evan-gelica Testificatio of my predecessor Paul VI. The Code of Canon Law, which recently came into force and which can in a way be considered the final conciliar document, will be for all of you a valuable aid and a sure guide in concretely stating the means for faithfully and generously living your magnificent vocation in the Church. 1 greet you with the affection of the Bishop of Rome and Successor of St. Peter, with whom your communities are united in a characteristic way. From the same See of Rome there also reach you, with an unceasing echo, the words of St. Paul: "I betrothed you to Christ, to present you as a pure.bride to her one husband.'~ The Church, which receives, after the apostles, the treasure of marriage to the divine Spouse, looks with the greatest love toward all her sons and daugh-ters who, by the profession of the evangelical counsels and through her .own mediation, have made a special covenant with the Redeemer of the World. Accept this word of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption precisely as a word of love~ spoken by the Ch'urch for you. Accept it, wherever you may be: in the cloister, of the contemplative communities or in the commitment to the many different forms of apostolic service--in the missions, in pastoral work, in hospita!~s or other places where the suffering are served, in educational institu-tions: schools or Universities--in fact in every one of your houses where, "gathered in the name of Christ," you live in the knowledge that the Lord is "in your midst.TM May the Church's loxiing word, addressed to you in the Jubilee of the Redemption, be the reflection of that loving word that Christ himself said to each one of you when he spoke one day that mysterious "follow me"~ fxom which your vocation in the Church began. Vocation And Jesus, Looking Upon Him, Loved Him 3. "Jesus, looking upon him, loved himTM and said to him, "If you would Redemptionis Donum / 48:3 be perfect, go, sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.'n Even though we know that those words addressed to the rich young man were not accepted by the one being called, their content deserves to b~ carefully reflected upon, for they present the interior structure of a vocation. "And 3esus,~looking upon him, loved him." This is the love of the Redeemer: a love that flows from all the human and divine depths of the redemption. This love reflects the eternal love of the Father who "so loved the World that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.TM ,~ The Son, invested with that love, accepted the mission from the Father .in the Holy Spirit, and became the Redeemer of the World. The Father's love was revealed in the Son as a redeeming love. It is precisely this love that constitutes the true price of the redemption of man and of the world. Christ:s apostles speak of the price of the redemption with profound emotion: "You were ransomed., not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot," writes St. Peter.9 And St. Paul states: "You were bought with a price."'° The call to the way of the evangelical counsels springs from the interior encounter with the love~ of Christ which is a redeeming love. Christ calls precisely through this love of his. In the structure of a vocation, the encounter with ,this love becomes ,something specifically personal. When Christ "looked upon you and loved you," calling each one of you, dear religious, that redeem-ing love of his was directed toward a particular person, and at the same time, it took on a spousal character: it became a love of choice. This love embraces the whole person, soul and body, whether man or woman, in that person's unique and unrepeatable, personal "1." The one who, given eternally to the Father, "gives" himself in the Mystery of the Redemp-tion, has now called a human person in order that he or she, in turn, should give himself or herself entirely to the work of the redemption through member-ship in a community of brothers or sisters, recognized and approved by the Church. Surely it is precisely to this call that St. Paul's words can be applied: "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit.? You are not your own; you were bought with a price."~ Y~es, Christ's love has reached each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, with that same "price" of the redemption. As a consequence of this, you have realized that you are not your own, but you ~belong to Christ. This ,new awareness was the fruit of Christ's "loving look" into the secret place of your heart. You replied to that look by choosing him who first chose each one of you, calling you with the measurelessness of his. redeeming love. Since he calls "by name," his call always appeals to human freedom. Christ says: "If you wish . "And the response to this call i§, therefore, a free choice. You have chosen Jesus of Nazareth, Redeemer of the World, by choosing the way that he has shown you. tll~4 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 If You Wish to .Be Perfect. 4. This way is also called the, way of perfection. Speaking to the young man, Christ says: "If you wish to be perfect . "Thus theidea of the "way of perfection" has its motivation in the very Gospel source itself. Moreover, do we not hear, in the Sermon on the Mount: "You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect"?.~2 The calling of man to perfection was perceived in a certain way by the thinkers and moralists of the ancient world, and also afterward, at different periods of history. But the biblical call has a completely original nature. It is particularly demanding when it indicates to man perfection in the likeness of God °himself.~3 Precisely in this form; the call corresponds to the whole of the internal logic of revelation, according to which man was created in the image and likeness of God himself. He must therefore seek the perfection proper to him in the line of this image and likeness. As St. Paul will write in the Letter to the Ephesians: "Therefore be imitators of God as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself upfor us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God."~4 Thus the call to perfection belongs to the very essence of the Christian vocation. It is on the basis of this call that we must also understand the words which Christ 'addressed to the young man in the Gospel. These words are in a particular way linked to the mystery of the redemp-tion of man in the world~ For this redemption gives back to God the work of creation which had been contaminated by sin--showing the perfection which the whole of creation, and in particular man, possesses in the thought and intention of God himself. Especially man must be given and restored to God if heis to be fully restored to himself. From this comes the eternal call: "Return to me, for I have redeemed you.''15 Christ's words, "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have, and give to the poor" clearly brings us into the sphere of the evangelical counsel of poverty--which belongs to the very essence of the religious vocation and profession. At the same time, these words can,be understoodin a wider and, in sense, an essential way. The Teacher from Nazareth invites the person he is address-ing to renounce a program of life in which the first place is seen to be occupied by the category of possessing, of "h'aving," and to accept in its place a program centered upon the value of the human person, upon personal "being"---with all the transcendence that is proper to it. Such an understanding of Christ's words constitutes, as it were, a wider setting for the ideal of evangelical poverty, especially that poverty which, as an evangelical counsel, belongs to the essential content of your mystical marriage with the divine Spouse in the Church. Reading Christ's words in the light of the superiority of "being" over "having," especially if the latter is understobd in a materialistic and utilitarian Redemptionis Donum / 485 sense, we, as it were, touch the very anthropologial bases of vocation in the Gospel. In .the framework of the development of contemporary civilization, this is a particularly relevant discovery. And for this reason, the very vocation to "the way of perfection" as laid down. by Christ becomes equally relevant. In today's civilization, especially in the context of the world of a well-being that is based on consumerism, man bitterly experi¢nces the essential incom-pleteness of personal "being" which affects his humanity because of the abund-antand various forms of "having." He then becomes more inclined to accept this truth about vocation which was expressed once and for all in the Gospel. Yes, the call which you, dear Brothers and Sisters, accepted when you set out on the way of religious profession touches upon the very roots of human-ity, the roots of man's destiny in the temporal world. The evangelical "state of perfection'~ does not cut you off from these roots. On the contrary, it enables you to anchor yourselves even more firmly ih the elements that make man man, permeating this humanity which, in various ways, is burdened by sin, with the divine and human leaven of the Mystery of Redemption. You Will Have Treasure in Heaven " Vocation carries with it th6 answer to the question: Why be a human person--and how? This answer adds a new dimension to the whole of life and establishes its definitive meaning. This meaning emerges against the back-grou'nd of the Gospel paradox of losing one's life in order to save it--and on the other hand, saving one's life by losing it "for Christ's sake and for the sake of the Gospel," as we read in Mark.t6 In the light of these words Christ's call becomes perfectly clear: "Go, sell what you possess ~nd give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.''t7 Between this "go" and the subsequent "come, follow me'; there is a close connection. It can be said that these latter words determine the very essence of a vocation. For a vocation is a matter of following the footsteps of Christ (sequi: to follow, hence sequela Christi). The terms "go. sell.' give" seem to lay down the precondition of a vocation. Nevertheless, this condition is not "external" to a vocation, but is already inside it. For a person, discovers the new sense of his or her humanity, not only in order "to follow" Christ, but to the extent that he or she actually does follow him. When a person does "sell what he possesses" and "gives it to the poor," he discovers that those possessions, and the comforts he enjoyed, were not the treasure to hold on to. That treasure is in his heart, which Christ makes him capable of"giving" to others b~y the giving of self. The rich person is not the one who possesses, but the one who "gives," the one who is capable of giving. At this point tile Gospel paradox becomes particularly expressive. It becomes a program of being. To be poor in the sense given to this "being" by 4116 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 the Teacher from Nazareth is to become a dispenser of good through one's own human condition. This also means to discover "the treasure." This treasure is indestructible. It passes, together with man, into the dimension of the eternal. It belongs to the divine eschatology of man. Through this treasure man has his definitive future in God. Christ says: "You will have treasuie in.heaven." This treasure is not so much a "reward" after death for the good works done following the example of the Divine Teacher, but rather the eschatological fulfillment of what was liidden in these good works here on earth, in the inner "treasure" of the heart. Christ himself, in fact, when he invited his hearers, in the Sermon on the Mount, ~s to store up treasure in heaven, added: "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."~9 These words indicate the eschatological character of the Christian vocation. They indicate even more the eschatological nature of the vocation that is realized through spiritual marriage to Christ by the practice of the evangelical counsels. 6. The structure of this vocation, as seen from the Words addressed to the young man in the synoptic gospels,20 is traced little by little as one discovers the fundamental treasure of one's own humanity in the perspective of that "trea-sure" which man "has in heaven." In this perspective, the fundamental treasure of one's own humanity is connected to the fact of "being, by giving oneself." The direct point of reference in such a vocation is the living person of Jesus Christ. The call to ~the way of perfection takes shape from him, and through him in the Holy Spirit who continually "recalls" to new people, men~and women--at different times of their lives, but especially in their youth--all that Christ "has saidTM and especially what he "said" to the yo.ung man who asked him: "Teacher, what good deed must ! do to h~ve eternal life?"~2 Throughthe reply of Christ, who "looks upon" his questioner "with love," the strong leaven of the Mystery of the Redemption penetrates the consciousness~, heart and will of one who is searching with truth and sincerity. Thus the call to the way of the evangelical counsels always has its begin-ning in God: "You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide."~3 The vocation in which a person discovers in depth.the evangelical law of giving, a law inscribed in human nature, is itself a gift. It is a gift overflowing with the deepest content of the Gospel, a gift which reflects the divine and human image of the Mystery of the Redemption. "In this is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be thb expiation for our sins.TM A "Fuller Expression"of Baptismdi Consecration 7. Your vocation, dear Brothers and Sisters, has led you to religious pro-fession, whereby you have been consecrated to God through the ministry of Redemptionis Donum / 487 the Church, arid tiave been at the same time incorporated into your religious family. Hence the Church thinks of you, above all, as persons who are "conse-crated": consecrated to God in Jesus Christ as his exclusive possession. This consecration determines your place in the vast community of the Church, the People of God. And at the same time, this consecration introduces into the universal mission of this people a special source of spiritual and supernatural energy: a particular style of life, witness and apostolate, in fidelity to the mission of your institute and.to its identity and spiritual heritage. The universal mission of the People of God is rooted in the messianic mission of Christ himself--prophet, priest and king--a mission in which all share in different ways. The form of sharing proper to "consecrated" persons corresponds to your manner of being rooted in Christ. The depth and power of this being rooted in Christ is decided precisely by religious profession. Religious p~ofession creates a new bond between the person and the one and triune God in Jesus Christ. This bond develops on the foundation of the original bond that is contained in the sacrament of baptism. Religious profes-sion "is deeply rooted in baptisma.I consecration and is a fuller expression of it.'~ In this way religious profession, in its constitutive content, becomes a new consecration: the consecration and giving of the human person to God, loved above all else. The commitment undertaken by means of the vows to practice the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience, according to the determinations proper to each religious family as laid down in the constitutions, is the expression of a total consecration to God and, at the same time, the means that leads to its achievement. This is also the source of the manner proper to consecrated .persons of bearing witness and of exercising the aposto-late. And yet it is necessary :to seek the roots of that conscious and~free consecration and of the subsequent giving of self to God as his possession in baptism, the sacrament that leads us to the~paschal mystery as the apex and center of the redemption ac,~omplished by Christ. Therefore, in order to highlight fully the reality of religious professions, we must turn to the vibrant ~,ords of St. Paul in the Letter to the Romans: "Do you,no~t know. that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that like Christ. we too might walk into the newness of life";26 "our old self was crucifiedowith him so that., we might no longer be enslaved by sin";27 so you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus?s Upon the sacramental basis of baptism in which it is rooted, religious profession is a new ~'burial in the death of Christ": new, because it is made with awareness and by choice; new, because of love and vocation; new, by reason of unceasing "conversion." This "burial in death" causes the person "buried together with Christ" to "walk like Christ in newness of life." In Christ crucified is to be found the ultimate foundati,~n both of baptismal consecration 41111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 and of the profession of the evangelical counsels which--in tile words of the Second Vatican Council--"constitutes a special consecration." It is at one and the same time both death and liberation. St. Paul writes: "Consider yourselves dead to sin." At the same time he calls this death "freedom from the slavery of sin." Above all, though, religious consecration, through its sacramental foundation in holy baptism, constitutes a new life "for God in Jesus Christ." In this way, simultaneously with the' profession of the evangelical counsels, in a much more mature and conscious manner "the old nature is put off," and likewise "the new nature is put on, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness," to use once more the words of the Letter tothe l~phesians.29 A Covenant of Spousal Love 8. Thus, then, dear Brothers and Sisters--all of you who, throughout the Church, live the covenant of the evangelical counsels-~-renew in this Holy Year of the Redemption your awareness of your special sharing in the Redeemer's death on the cross--that sharing through which ~you have risen with him, and continually rise with him, to a new life. The Lord speaks to each of you, just as he once spoke through the prophet Isaiah: Fear not, for i have redeemed you: ' ~ I have called you by name, you are mine.a0 The evangelical call: "If you would be perfect., follow meTM guides us with the light of the words of the divine Teacher. From th~ depth of the redemption there comes Christ's call, and from that depth it teaches the human soul. By virtue of the grace of the redemption, this saving call assumes in the soul Of the person called the actual form of the professioh of the evangelical counsels. In this.form is contained your answer to the call .of redeeming love, and it is also an answer of love: a love of self-giving--which is the heart of consecration, of the consecration of the person. The words of Isaiah "I have redeemed you., you are mine"--seem toseal precisely this love, which is the love of a total and exclusive consecration to God. This is how the special covenant of spousal love is made, in which we seem to hear an unceasing echo of the words concerning Israel whom the Lord "has chosen as his own possession.'~2 For in every consecrated person the Israel of the New and Eternal Covenant is chosen. The whole messianic People, the entire Church, is chosen in every person whom the Lord selects from the midst of this people; in every person who is consecrated,for everyone, to God as his exclusive possession. While it is true that not even the greatest saint can repeat the words of Christ: "For their sake I consecrate myself"33 in the full redemptive force of these words, nevertheless, through self-giving love, through the offering of Redemptionis Donum / 489 oneself to God as his exclusive possession, each one can, through faith, stand within the radius of these words. Are we not reminded of this by the other words of the Apostle in the Letter to the Romans that we so often repeat and meditate upon: "I appeal to you therefore, brethren, by the mercy of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship"?.34 These words are, as it were, a distant echo of the one who, when he comes into the world and becomes man, says to the Father: "You have prepared a body for me. ~. Lo, I have come to do your will, O God.'~5 In this particular context of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, let us, then, go back again to the mystery of the body and soul of Christ as the complete subject of spousal and redemptive love--spousal because redemp-tive. For love he offered himself; for love he gave his body "for the sin of the world." By immersing yourselves in the paschal mystery of the Redeemer through the consecration of the religious vows, you desire, through the love of total giving, to fill your souls and your bodies with the spirit of sacrifice---even as St. Paul invites you to do in the words of the Letter to the Romans just quoted: "To offer your bodies as a sacrifice.'~6 In this way, the likeness of that love which, in the heart of Christ, is both redemptive and spousal, is imprinted on the religious profession. And such love should fill each of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, from the very source of thatparticularconsecration which--on the sacramental basis of holy baptism-- is the beginning of your new life in Christ and in the Church: it is the beginning of the new creation. Together with this love, may there grow deeper in each one of you the joy of belonging exclusively to God, of being a particular inheritance of the most Holy Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Now and then repeat with the psalmist the inspired words: Whom else have I in heaven? And when ! am with you, the earth delights me not. Though my flesh and my heart waste away, God is the'rock of my heart" and my portion foreverP7 Or 1 say to the Lord, My Lord are you. Apart from you I have no good. O Lord, my allotted portion and my cup, You it is who hold fast my lot,3s May the knowledge of belonging to God himself in Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the World and the Spouse of the Church, seal your hearts39 and all your thoughts, words, and deeds, with the sign of the biblical spouse: As you know, this intimate and profound knowledge of Christ is actuated 490 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 and grows deeper day by day through the life.of personal, community and liturgical prayer proper to each of your religious families. In this, too--and especially so--the men and women religious who are dedicated essentially to contemplation are a powerful aid and a stimulating support for their brothers and sisters devoted to the works of the apostolate. May this knowledge of belonging to Christ open your hearts, thoughts and deeds, with the key of the Mystery of the Redemption, to all the sufferings, needs and hopes of individuals and of the world--in the midst of which your evangelical consecration has been planted as a particular sign of the presence of God, for whom all live,40 embraced by the invisible dimension of this kingdom. The words "Follow me"--spoken by Christ when he "looked upon and loved" each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters--also have this meaning: you take part, in the most complete and radical way possible, in the shaping of that new creation,4~ which must emerge from the redemption of the world, by means of the power of the Spirit of Truth operating from the abundance of the Paschal Mystery of Christ. Evangelical Counsels The Economy of Redemption 9. Through your profession the way of evangelical counsels opens up before each one of you. In the Gospel there are many exhortations that go beyond the measures of the commandment, indicating not only what is "neces-sary," but what is "better." Thus, for example, the exhortation not to judge,42 to lend "expecting nothing in return,'~3 to comply with all the requests and desires of our neighbor,44 to invite the poor to a meal?5 to pardon always,46 and many other invitations. If, in accordance with tradition, the profession of the evangelical counsels has concentrated on the three points of chastity, poverty and obedience, this usage seems to give clear enough emphasis to their importance as key ele-ments, and, as a kind of "summing up" of the entire economy of salvation. Everything in the Gospel that is a counsel enters indirectly into the pro-gram of that way to which Christ calls when he says: "Follow me." But chastity, poverty and obedience give to this way a particular Christocentric characteristic, and imprint upon it a specific sign of the Economy of Redemption. Essential to this "economy" is the transformation of the entire cosmos, through the heart of man, i'rom within: "For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. and will be set free from its bondage to decay, and obtain the glorious liberty of the children of God.'~7 This transformation takes place in step with that love which Christ's call infused in the depths of the individual, in step with that love which constitutes the very substance of consecration: a man or woman's vowing of self to God in religious profession, on the foundation of the sacramental consecration of baptism. Redemptionis Donum / 49"1 We can discover the bases of the economy of redemption by reading the words of the First Letter of St. John: Do not love the world or the things of the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And the world passes away, and the lust of it: but he who does the will of God abides forever.'~ Religious profession places in the heart of each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, the love of the Father, that love which is in the heart of Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the World. It is love which embraces the world and everything in it that comes from the Father, and which at the same time tends to overcome in the world everything that "does not come from the Father." It tends therefore to conquer the threefold lust. "The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life" are hidden within man as the inheritance of original sin, as a result of which the relationship with the world, created by God and given to man to be ruled by him,49 was disfigured in the human heart in various ways: In the economy of redemption the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience constitute the most radical means for trans-forming in the human heart this relationship with "the world": with the exter-nal world and with one's personal "1," which in some way is the central part "of the world" in the biblical sense, if what "does not come from the Father" begins within it. Against the background .of the phrases taken from the First Letter of St. John, it is not difficult to see the fundamental importance of the three evangel-ical counsels in the whole economy of redemption. Evangelical chastity helps us to transform in our interior life everything that has it sources in the lust of the flesh; evangelical poverty, everything that finds its source in the lust of the eyes; and evangelical obedience enables us to transform in a radical way that which in the human heart arises from the pride of life. We are deliberately speaking here of an overcoming as a transformation, for the entire economy of the redemption is set in the framework of the words spoken in the priestly prayer to the Father: "1 do not ask you to take them out of the world, but to guard them from the evil one."~0 The evangelical counsels in their essential purpose aim at "the renewal of creation": "The world," thanks to them, is to be subjected to man and given to him in such a way that man himself may be perfectly given to God. Participation in the Self-Emptying of Christ 10. The internal purpose of the evangelical counsels leads to the discovery of yet other aspects that emphasize the close connection of the counsels with the economy of redemption. We know that the economy of redemption finds its culminating point in the paschal mystery of Jesus Christ, in whom there are joined self-emptying through death and birth to a new life through the Resur-rection. The practice of the evangelical counsels contains a deep reflection of this paschal duality;5~ the inevitable destruction of what in each of us is sin and 492 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 its inheritance; and the possibility of being reborn each day to a more pro-found good hidden in the human soul. This good is manifested under the action of grace, toward which the practice of chastity, poverty and obedience renders the human soul particularly sensitive. The entire economy of redemp-tion is realized precisely through this sensitivity to the mysterious action of the Ho!y Spirit, the direct author of all holiness. Along this path the profession of the evangelical counsels opens out in each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, a wide space for the "new creation"~z that emerges in your human 'T' precisely from the economy of the redemption and, through this human "I," also into the interpersonal and social dimensions. At the same time it emerges in humanity as part of the world created by God, that world that the Father loved "anew" in the eternal Son, the Redeemer of the World. Of this Son St. Paul says that "though he was in the form of God. he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men."53 The characteristic of self-emptying contained in the practice of the evangelical counsels is therefore a .completely Christocentric characteristic. And for this reason also the Teacher from Nazareth explicitly indicates the cross as the condition for following in his footsteps, He who once said to each one of you "Follow me" has also said: "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me" (that is to say, walk in my footsteps).54 And he said this to all his listeners, not just to the disciples. The law of renunciation belongs therefore to the very essence of the Chris-tian vocation. But it belongs in a particular way to the essence of the vocation linked to the profession of the evangelical counsels. To those who walk the way of this vocation, even those difficult expressions that we read in the Letter to the Philippians speak in comprehensible language: For him "I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as refuse, in order that I may gain Christ and be-found in him.'~5 Renunciation therefore--the reflection of the mystery of Calvary--in order "to be" more fully in the crucified and risen Christ; renunciation in order to recognize fully in him the mystery of one's own human nature and to confirm this on the path of that wonderful process of which the same apostle writes in another place: "Though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed every day.'~6 In this way the economy of the redemp-tion transfers the power of the paschal mystery to the level of humanity, docile to Christ's call to life in chastity, poverty and obedience, that is, to a. life according to the evangelical counsels. Chastity, Poverty, ,Obedience II. The paschal character of this call makes itself known from various points of view in connection with each individual .counsel. Chastity It is indeed according to the measure of the economy of the redemption Redemptionis Donum / 493 that one must also judge and practice that chastity which each of you has promised by vow, together with poverty and obedience. There is contained in this the response to Christ's words, which are at the same time an invitation: "There are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. He who is able to receive this, let him receive it. Prior to this Christ has emphasized: "Not all men can receive this saying, but only those to whom it is given."~s These last words clearly show that this invitation is a counsel. To this also the apostle Paul devoted a special reflection in the First Letter to the Corinthians.59 This counsel is addressed in a particular way to the love of the human heart. It places greater emphasis on the spousal character of this love, while poverty and still more obedience seem to emphasize primarily the aspect of redemptive love contained in religious consecration. As you know, it is a question here of chastity in the sense "of making themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven," a question, that is, of virginity or celibacy as an expression of spousal love for the Redeemer himself. In this sense the apostle teaches that they "do well" who choose matrimony, but they "do better who choose virginity.'~° "The unmarried man is anxious about the affairs of the Lord, how to please the Lord,'~ and "the unmarried woman or girl is anxious about the affairs of the Lord, how to be holy in body and spirit."62 There is contained neither in the words of Christ nor in those of Paul any lack of esteem for matrimony. The evangelical counsel of chastity is only an indication of that particular possibility which, for the human heart, whether of a man or of a woman, constitutes the spousal love of Christ himself, of Jesus the "Lord." "To make themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven" is not in fact merely a free renunciation of marriage and family life, but a charismatic choice of Christ as one's exclusive spouse. This choice not only specifically enables one to be "anxious about the affairs of the Lord;" but--when it is made "for the kingdom of heaven"---it brings this eschatologi-cal kingdom of God close to the life of all people in the conditions of temporal-ity and makes it in a certain way present in the midst of the world. In this way consecrated persons accomplish the interior purpose of the entire economy of the redemption. For this purpose expresses itself in bringing near the kingdom of God in its definitive, eschatoiogical dimension. Through the vow of chastity consecrated persons share in the economy of the redemp-tion through the free renunciation of the temporal joys of married and family life; on the other hand, precisely by their "having made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven," they bring into the midst of this passing world the announcement of the future resurrection63 and of eternal life: life in union with God himself through the beatific vision and the love which contains in itself and completely pervades, all the other loves of the human heart. Poverty 12. How very expressive, in the. matter of poverty, are the words of the 494 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 Second Letter to the Corinthians, which constitute a concise synthesis of all that we hear on this theme in the Gospel: "For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yete for your sake he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.TM According to these words, poverty actually enters into the interior structure of the redemptive grace of Jesus Christ. Without poverty, it is not possible to understand the mystery of the gift of divinity to man, a gift which is accomplished precisely in Jesus Christ. For this reason also it is found at the very center of the Gospel, at the beginning of the message of the eight Beatitudes: "Blessed are the poor in spirit."~5 Evangelical poverty reveals to the eyes of the human soul the perspec-tive of the whole mystery, "hidden for ages in God.'~6 Only those who are "poor" in this way are also interiorly capable of understanding the poverty of the One who is infinitely rich. The poverty of Christ conceals in itself this infinite richness of God; it is indeed an infallible expression of it. A richness, in fact, such as the divinity itself, could not have been adequately expressed in any created good. It can be expressed only in poverty. Therefore it can be properly understood only by the poor, the poor in spirit. Christ; the God-man, is the first of these: He who, "though he was rich became poor," is not only the teacher, but also the spokesman and guarantor of that salvific poverty which corresponds to the infinite richness of God and to the inexhaustible power of his grace. And thus is it also true--as the apostle writes--that "by this poverty we have become rich." It is the teacher and spokesman of poverty who makes us rich. For this very reason he says to the young man.of the synoptic gospels: "Sell what you possess and give . and you will have treasure in heaven.'~7 In these words there is a call to enrich others through one's own poverty. But in the depths of this call there is also hidden the testimony of the infinite richness of God which, transferred to the human soul in the mystery of grace, created in man himself, precisely through poverty, a source for enriching others that is not comparable with any other resource of material goods, a source for bestowing gifts on others in the manner of God himself. This giving is accomplished in the cohtext of the mystery of Christ who "has made us rich by his poverty." We see how this process of enrichment unfolds in the pages of the Gospel, finding its culmination in the paschal event: Christ, poorest in his death on the cross, is also the one who enriches us infinitely with the fullness of new life through his resurrection. Dear Brothers and Sisters, poor in spirit through your evangelical profes-sion, receive into the whole of your lives this salvific profile of the poverty of Christ. Day by day seek its ever greater development! Seek above all "the kingdom of God and his righteousness," and all other things "shall be yours as well.'~8 May there be accomplished in you and through you the evangelical blessedness that is reserved for the poor,69 the poor in spirit!70 Redemptionis Donum/ 495 Obedience 1 3. Christ, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And beingfound in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross.7~ Here, in these words of the Letter of St. Paul to the Philippians, we touch the very essence of the redemption, In this reality is inscribed, in a primary and constitutive way, the obedience of Jesus Christ. Other words of the apostle, taken this time from the Letter to the Romans, confirm this: For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by one man's obedience many will be made righteous.72 The evangelical counsel of obedience is the call which derives from this obedience of Christ "unto death." Those who accept this call, expressed by the words "Follow me," decided--as the council says--to follow Christ who "by an obedience which carried him even to death on the cross, redeemed human-ity and made it holy.''73 By living out the evangelical counsel of obedience, they reach the deepest essence of the entire Economy of the Redemption. By ful-filling this counsel, they desire to gain a special sharing in the obedience of that "One alone" by whose obedience all "will be made righteous." It can therefore be said that those who decide to live according to the counsel of obedience are placed in a unique way between the mystery of sin74 and the mystery of justification and salvific grace. They are in this "place" with all the sinful background of their own human nature, with all the inheritance "of the pride of life," with all the selfish tendencies to dominate rather than to serve; and precisely by means of the vow of obedience they decide to be transformed into the likeness of Christ, who "redeemed humanity and made it holy by his obedience." In the counsel of obedience they desire to find their own role in the redemption of Christ, and their own way of sanctification. This is the way which Christ marked out in the Gospel, speaking many times of fulfilling the will of God, of ceaselessly searching for it. "My food is to do the will of him who sent me, and to accomplish his works."75 "Because I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me."76 "He :who sent me is with me; he has not left me alone, for 1 always do what is pleasing to him.''77 "For I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me."78 This constant fulfilling of the will of the Father also reminds us of that messianic confession of the psalmist in the Old Testament: "Behold I come; in the written scroll it is prescribed for me. To do 3/our will, O my God, is my delight, and your law is within my heart.''79 This obedience of the Son--full of joy--reaches its zenith in the face of the passion and cross: "Father, if it is your will, take this cup from me; yet not my will but yours be done."s0 From the prayer ~in Gethsemane onward, Christ's 1196 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 readiness to do the will of the Father is filled to the very brim of suffering, becoming that obedience "unto death, even death on a cross" spoken of by St. Paul. Through the vow of obedience consecrated persons decide to imitate with humility the obedience of the Redeemer in a special way. For although sub-mission to the will of God and obedience to his law are for every state a condition of Christian life, nevertheless in the "religious state," in the "state of perfection," the vow of obedience establishes in the heart of each of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, the duty of a particular reference to Christ "obedient unto death." And since this obedience of Christ constitutes the essential nucleus of the work of the redemption, as is seen from the words of the apostle quoted above, therefore also in the fulfilling of the evangelical counsel of obedience we must discern a particular moment in that "economy of the redemption" which pervades your whole vocation in the Church. From this derives that "total availability to the Holy Spirit" who is at work above all in the Church, as my predecessor Paul VI puts it in the apostolic exhortation Evangelica Testificatio,8i a'nd who is likewise manifested in the constitutions of your institutes. From this derives that religious submission which, in a spirit of faith, consecrated persons show to their legitimate superiors Who hold the place of God.82 In the Letter to the Hebrews we find on this theme a very significant indication: "Obey your leaders and submit to them; for they are keeping watch over your souls, as men who will have to give account." And the author of the letter adds: "Let them do this joyfully, and not sadly, for that would be of no advantage to you."~3 On the other hand, superiors will bear in mind that they. must exercise in a spirit of service the power conferred on them through the ministry of the Church, and they will show willingness to listen to their brothers or sisters in order to discern more clearly what the Lord asks of each one. At the same time they retain the authority proper to them to decide and order what they consider appropriatr. Hand in hand with submission-obedience thus conceived goes the attitude of service which informs your whole life after the example of the Son of Man who "came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many."s4 And his mother, at the decisive moment of the annunciation-incarna-tion, entering from the very beginning into the whole salvific economy of the redemption, said: "Behold, 1 am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be done to me according to your word."aS Remember also, dear Brothers and Sisters, that the obedience to which you committed yourselves by consecrating yourselves without reserve to God through the profession of the evangelical counsels is a particular expression of interior freedom, just as the definitive expression of Christ's freedom was his obedience "unto death": "1 lay down my life, that I may take it again. No one Redemptionis Donum / takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord.'~6 Love for the Church Witness 14. In the Jubilee Year of the Redemption the entire Church wishes to renew her love for Christ, the redeemer of man and of the world, her Lord and also her divine Spouse. And so in this holy year the Church looks with special attentibn to you, dear Brothers and Sisters, who, as consecrated persons, occupy a special place, both in the universal community of the People of God, and in every local community. While the Church wishes also your love for Christ to be renewed through the grace of the extraordinary jubilee, at the same time, she is fully aware that this love constitutes a special possession of the whole People of God. The Church is aware that, in the love that Christ receives from consecrated persons, the love :of the entire Body is directed in a special and exceptional way toward the Spouse who, i~t the same time, is the Head of this Body. The Church expresses to you, dear Brothers and Sisters, her gratitude for your consecration, and for your profession of the evangelical counsels which are a special witness of love. She also expresses anew her great confidence in you who have chosen a state of life that is a special gift of God to the Church. She counts upon your complete and generous collaboration in order that, as faithful stewards of this precious gift, you may "think with the Church" and always act in union with her, in conformity with the teaching and directives of the magisterium of Peter and of the pastors in communion with him, fostering at the personal and community level a renewed ecclesial awareness. And at the same time, the Church prays for you, that your witness of love may never fail.87 She also asks you to accept in this spirit the present message of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption. Precisely in this way the Apostle Paul prayed in his Letter to the Philippians, that "your love may abound more and more., with all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruits of righteousness. "~ Through the work of Christ's redemption "God's love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit which has been given to us.'~9 1 constantly ask the Holy Spirit to grant to each one of you, according to your own gift,9° to bear special witness to this love. May "the law of the Spirit that gives life in Christ Jesus" be victorious within you in a way worthy of your vocation, that law that has "set us free from the law of. death.TM Live, then, this new life in the measure of the different gifts of God, which corresponds to the vocation of your individual religious families. The profession of the evangelical counsels shows each of you how, with the help of the Spirit, you can put to death92 everything that is contrary to life and serves sin and death; everything that is opposed to true love of God and others. The world needs the authentic "contradiction" provided by religious conse- 4911 / Reviow for Religious, July-August, 1984 cration, as an unceasing stimulus of saivific renewal. "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.'~3 After the special period of experimentation and renewal provided for by the motu proprio Ecclesiae Sanctae, your institutes have recently received, or are preparing to receive, the Church's approval of your renewed constitutions. May this gift of the Church encourage you to know them, to love them, and, above all, to live them in generosity and fidelity, remembering that obedience is an unambiguous manifestation of love. It is precisely this witness of love that the world today and all humanity need. They need this witness to the redemption as this is imprinted upon the profession of the evangelical counsels. These counsels---each in its own way and all of them together in their intimate connection--"bear witness" to the redemption which, by the power of Christ's cross and resurrection, leads the world and humanity, in the Holy Spirit, toward that definitive fulfillment which man, and through man, the whole of creation finds in God and only in God. Your witness is therefore of inestimable value, You must constantly strive to make it fully transparent and fully fruitful in the world. A further aid to this will be the faithful observance of the Church's norms regarding also the outward manifestation of your consecration and of your commitment to poverty.94 Apostolate 15. From this witness of spousal love for Christ, through which the entire salvific truth of the Gospel becomes particularly visible, there also comes, dear Brothers and Sisters, as something proper to your vocation, a sharing in the Church's apostolate, in her universal mission--which is accomplished con-temporaneously in every nation in many different ways and through many different charisms. Your specific mission is in harmony with the mission of the apostles whom the Lord sent "to the whole world" to "teach all nations,'s5 and it is also linked to the mission of the hierarchial order. In the apostolate which consecrated persons exercise, their spousal love for Christ becomes, in an as it were organic way, love for the Church as the Body of Christ, for the Church as the People of God, fbr the Church which is at one and the same time Spouse and Mother. It is difficult to describe, or even to list, the many different ways in which consecrated persons fulfill through the apostolate their love for the Church. This apostolate is always born from that particular gift of your founders which, received from God and approved by the Church, has become a charism for the different needs of the Church and of the world at particular moments of history, and, in its turn, this apostolate is extended and strengthened in the life of religious communities as one of the enduring elements of the Church's own life and apostolate. In each of these elements, in each field--both of Redemptionis Donum / 499 contemplation so fruitful for the apostolate and of direct apostolic action--the Church's constant blessing accompanies you, as does at the same time her pastoral and maternal solicitude with regard to the spiritual identity of your life and the correctness of your activity in the midst of the great universal community of vocations and charisms of the whole People of God. Through each of the institutes separately, and through their organic integration into the whole of, the Church's mission, special emphasis is given to the Economy of Redemption, the profound sign of which each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, bears within himself or herself through the consecration and profession of the evangelical counsels. And thus, even though the many different apostolic works that you perform are extremely important, nevertheless the truly fundamental work of the aPostolate remains always what (and at the same time who) you are in the Church. Of each one of you can be repeated, with special appropriateness, these words of St. Paul: '~For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God."96 And at the same time this "being hidden with Christ in God" makes it possible to apply to you the words of the master himself: "Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven."97 For the sake of this light with which you must "shine before men," of great imPortance among you is the witness of your mutual love linked to the fraternal spirit of each community, for the Lord has said: "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."gg The fundamentally communitarian nature of your religious life--nourished by the teaching of the Gospel, by the sacred liturgy, and above all by the Eucharist--is a special way of accomplishing this interpersonal and social dimension. By caring for one another, by bearing one another's burdens, you show, by your unity, that Christ is living in your midst.99 Important for your apostolate in the Church is every kind of sensitivity to the needs and sufferings of the individual, which are seen so clearly and so movingly in today's world. For the Apostle Paul teaches: "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ,;~°° and he adds that "love is the fulfilling of the Law."1°1 Your mission must be seen! Deep, very deep must be the bond which links it to the Church!~°2 Through everything that you do, and especially through everything that you are, may the truth be proclaimed and reconfirmed that "Christ loved the Church and gave himself up for her"~o3--the truth that is at the basis of the whole Economy of Redemption. From Christ, the Redeemer of the World, may the inexhaustible source of your love of the Church pour forth! Conclusion The Eyes Enlightening the Heart 16. This exhortation, which 1 address to you on the Solemnity of the Annunciation in the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, is meant to be an 5{11) / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 expression of that love which the Church has for men and womeri religious: You, dear Brothers and Sisters, are truly a special treasure of the Church. And this treasure becomes more understandable through °meditation on the reality of the redemption--for which the present Holy Year offers a continuous opportunity and a welcome encouragement. Recognize therefore, in this light, your identity and your dignity. May the Holy Spirit--through Christ's cross and resurrection--"having the eyes of your hearts enlightened," enable you "to know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints."~0~ These "eyes enlightening the heart" the Church unceasingly asks ]'or each ¯ one of you who have already taken the road of the profession of the evfingelical counsels. The Church, together with you, asks for the same "enlightened eyes" for many other Christians---especially for young men and women--that they, too, may discover this way, and not be afraid to enter upon it, that---even in the midst of the adverse circumstances of life today--they may hear Christ's "Follow Me."1°5 You, too, must strive for this through your prayer, and aiso through the witness of that love whereby "God abides in us, and his love is perfected in us."~o6 May this witness become present everywhere, and universally clear. May the people of our times, in their spiritual weariness, find in this witness both support and hope. Therefore serve your brethren with the joy that wells up from a heart in which Christ has his dwelling. "And may the world of our time., be enabled to receive the good news, not from evangelizers who are dejected and discouraged., but from ministers of the Gospel whose lives glow with fervor, who have first received the joy of Christ."~07 The Church, in her love for you, does not cease "kneeling before the Father. and praying"t0g that he may effect in you "the strengthening of the inner nature,''~09 and, as in you, so also in many others of your baptized brothers and sisters---especially young people--so that they, too, may find the same way to holiness which, in the course of history, so many generations have traveled together with Christ the Redeemer of the World and Spouse of Souls, often~ leaving behind them the bright radiance of God's light against the dark and gray background of human existence. To all of you who travel this road in the present phase of the history of the Church and the world there is addressed this fervent hope of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, that "you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have the power to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God."~0 Message of the Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord On the Feast of the Annunciation in thi~ Holy Year of the Redemption, I place the present exhortation in the heart of the Immaculate Virgin. Among all Redemptionis Donum / 501 persons consecrated unreservedly to G6d, she is the first. She--the Virgin of Nazareth--is also the one most fully consecrated to God, consecrated in the most perfect way. Her spousal~love reached its height in the divine motherhood through the power of the Holy Spirit. She, who as mother carries Christ in her arms, at the same time fulfills in the most perfect way his call: "Follow me." And she follows him--she, the mother--as her teacher of chastity, poverty and obedience. How poor she was on Bethlehem night, and how poor on Calvary! How obedient she was at the moment .of the Annunciation, and then--at the foot of the Cross--obedient "unto death!" How dedicated she was in all her earthly life to the cause of the kingdom" of heaven through most chaste love. If the entire Church finds in Mary her first model, all the more reason do you find her so--you as consecrated individuals and communities within the Church! On the day that calls to mind the inauguration of the Jubilee of the Redemption, which took place last year, I address myself to you with this present message to invite you to renew your religious consecration according to the model of the consecration of the very Mother of God. Beloved Brothers and Sisters! "God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord."lll Persevering in fidelity to him who is faithful, strive to find a very special support in Mary! For she was called by God to the most perfect communion with his Son. May she, the faithful Virgin, also be the Mother of your evangelical way. May she help yoti to experience and to show to the world how infinitely faithful is God himself! With these hopes 1 bless you with all my heart. From the Vatican, March 25, in the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, 1984, the sixth of my pontificate. NOTES ~See Mt 7:14. 2Ps 130(129):7. .JSee 2 Co 11:2. sSee Mt' 19:21; Mk 10:21; Lk' 18:22. 6Mk 10:21. 8Jn 3:16. 91 P 1:18-19. ml Co 6:20. ~2Mt 5:48. ~JSee Lv 19:2; 11:44. ~4Ep 5:1-2. ~6Mk 8:35; see Mt 10:39; Lk 9:24. ~TMt 19:21. ~gMt 6:21. ~°See Mt 19:21; Mk 10:21; Lk 18:22. 22Mt 19:16. ~JJn 15:16. 241 Jn 4:10. 4See Mt 18:20. 7Mt 19:21. ~1 Co 6:19-20. ~Sls 44:22. ~sSee Mt 6:19-20. 2~See Jn 14:26. ~See Second Vatican Council, decree Perfectae Caritatis, 5; see also document of the Congrega-tion for Religious and Secular Institutes "Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate" (May 3 I, 1983), nn. 5ff. ~6Rm 6:3-4. ~TRm 6:6. 2SRm 6:1 I. ~gSee Ep 4:22-24. 51)2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 J°ls 43:1. 34Rm 12:1. asPs 16( 15):2,5. 42See Mt 7:1. ~6See Mt 6:14-15. ~°Jn 17:15. 5JPh 2:6-7: 57Mr 19:12.° 6~I Co 7:32. ~2 Co 8:9. ~Mt 19:21. 32Ps 135 (134):4. J3Jn 17:19. a~Heb 10:5,7. ~6Rm 12:1. aTPs 73(72):25-26. 39See Sg 8:6. ~See Lk 20:38. :4~2 Co 5:17. *JLk 6:35. '~See Mt 5:40-42. *~See Lk 14:13-14. *TRm 8:19-21. '~1 Jn 2:15-17. ~gSee Gn 1:28. ~See Perfectae Caritatis, 5. 522 Co 5:17. ~Mk 8:34: Mt 16:24. ssPh 3:8-9. 562 Co 4:16. 5SMt 19:11. 59See I Co 7:28-40: ~°See I Co 7:38. 621 Co 7:34. 6~See Lk 20:34-36; Mt 22:30: Mk 12:25. 65Mt 5:3. 66Ep 3:9. 67Mt 19:21; see Mk 10:21; Lk 18:22. 7°Mr 5:3. 7~Ph 2:6-8. 74Mysterium lniquitatis; see 2 Th 2:7. 77Jn 8:29. tSJn 6:38. ~OLk 22:42; see Mk 14:36; Mt 26:42. 82See Perfectae Caritatis, 14. 85Lk 1:38. 86Jn 10:17-18. 89Rm 5:5. 9°See I Co 7:7. 6SMk 6:33; eLk 6:20. 72Rm ~: 19. 7-~See Perfectae Caritatis, I. 75Jn 4:34. 76Jn 5:30. 79ps 40(39):8-9; see Heb 10:17. s~See Evangelica Testificatio, 6. S~Heb 13:17. ~4Mk 10:45. sTSee Lk 22:32. ssPh 1:9-1 I. 91Rm 8:2. 92See Rm 8:13. 9-~Rm 12:2. 9~See Code of Canon Law, canon 669. 9~See Mt 28:19. 9~Col 3:3. 97Mt 5:16. ~Jn 13:35. 99See Perfectae Caritatis, 15. t°°Ga 6:2. ~o~ Rm 13:10. ~°2The Code of Canon Law explicitly mentions this with regard to apostolic activity: see canon 675, sec. 3. ~O3Ep 5:25. , ~Ep 1:18. IO~Lk 5:27. ~°~1 Jn 4!12. ~°TPope Paul VI, apostolic exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi, 80. ~°sSee Ep 3:14. ~°gSee Ep 3:16. n0Ep 3:17;19. ml Co 1:9. Encourage Vocations May I also ask you for something?You are well aware of the needs of the Church all over the world in relation to vocations to the priesthood and to the religious life. My request is that you do not fail to challenge the young to follow Christ in this way. Help them to discover the divine call. Support them by your prayer, your advice, and the example of your lives.--John Paul Ii, to the General Chapter of the Congregation of Christian Brothers. L'Osscrvatore Romano, 24 April, 1984, p. 9. Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self Anthony Wieczorek, O. Praem. This article is the fruit of the prayerful reflections of Bro~ Wieczorek as he approached the time of his solemn profession during the days of Holy Week. His last article. "Poverty. Time. Solitude: A Conte.xt for a Celibate Life-Style.~appeared in the issue of September/October. 1982. Bro. Wieczorek resides in St. Joseph Priory: 103 Grant Street: De Pere. WI 54115. Commitment is a life and death decision. This is especially true for such commitments as marriage, profession, arid even the taking 'on ~of certain jobs requiring a good degree of responsibility. Commitment is a decision to live a certain life, to embrace life and enter into it fully. At the same time, it is a death. It means letting go of other options and alternatives, of other equally good or better ways of living. For both these reasons, because commitment is an embracing of life and death, commitments are' often difficult to make, causes of not a little anxiety and fear. The fear is not simply because of the dying required; it is perhaps least of all due to that. Rather, the main cause for fear in commitment is precisely the living, the life that is chosen with all its unknown consequences. Life is just as much out of human control as death. Life is just as much a surrender as death. When a person truly abandons oneself to living, truly living--wak.efully, consciously, with senses open and alert to every and anything--the final result is just as mysterious and uncertain as death. At least that is what I am finding out as the day of my solemn profession nears. What is involved in making such a commitment? Where will such a life lead? What price will such a life demand? For make no mistake, living exacts a terrible price--terrible and beautiful. Truly, commitment is a dying and rising of self. The self I am and know given over to transformation by living a life the consequences and end of which 1 cannot envision. The frightening part of commitment, for many of us, as these reflections try to articulate, is not just the dying to other lives, it is the rising to new and different life and, perhaps, to 503 504/ Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 an equally new and different self. The Seed of An Uncertain Future I wonder, Lord, if you wonder where all the singleheartedness has gone. It is still there, thought now I am no longer so wholly consumed by it. All its life, the residue of its past as well as the fire of its dreams, is squeezed tightly into a single seed. The seed is all curled up about itself. It is afraid to die for when it does it will erupt into nbt only new life, that is not so bad, but into different life. The tree from which that scared seed grew is only one parent. The other is mystery, wild and elusive. It will be no new tree that stretches itself upward and downward but a different tree. And so I cling to the last shreds of my former life, feeling it nonetheless slipping, being pulled endlessly from my grasp. And when the last element is gone and I fall helplessly into the soil, half buried by the force of the fall, then I shall die/rise--for it is all the same--to not only live anew but differently. I die to arise as a self I do not know; the me I am assumed, eaten up as food, by the person 1 shall become. .The seed existing in me is devouringme to nourish itself. It is eating its way out of me, bite by bite. Soon I will be gone. Yet not gone, for a new and different self will begin to grow from where 1 stood, with its own life, its own dreams and future. As it is now part of me, so then ! shall be part of it, consumed as fuel until it is strong enough to move away and seek its own source of life, to wrap its lips around the mystery which gave it birth and suck into its being a vitality and energy I cannot imagine, let alone comprehend. And it will grow as the mystery it drinks saturates every cell of it. By that time l will have played my part. The husk that will be what remains of me will slowly crumble with a dry, crinkling sound. Discarded, will I be remembered by what has become of me? Will anything of me survive in that which survives me? When 1 too hang a lifeless husk from a tree, consumed wholly by what exists within me? Of Acorns and O~ks It's too bad acorns can't fly. Maybe it's just as well. I wonder, if they could, how many over the years would have changed their minds and returned in a flurry of little wings to the tree from which they fell? A person just can't be sure. In the fall, if you sit quietly amid the sounds of wind and rustling leaves you can occasionally hear the sudden and quite distinct plop of an acorn hitting the ground. And if you lean over it you can even hear the final little sigh the acorn makes just before, separated from the life of the tree, it dies. For me, the acorn is a symbol of faith. The whole and utter point of an acorn's life is to die. It dies so that the oak tree within it can sprout and grow and give birth to more acorns and so more oak trees. But what about the acorn? That surely isn't much of a life. I wonder if they're informed of the odds of success before they're sent on their suicide dive? For all the acorns that fall, how slim a percentage are able to accomplish their full mission? How many of Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self / 505 the well meaning little things end up in the bellies of squirrels? or get picked up by people like me who put them in a pocket, or sit them on a desk as a remembrance? All that wasted potential. That's why l say, it's too bad acorns can't fly. But acorns don't seem to mind the odds. Millions fall to pointless deaths each year. Each one, I suppose, acts in faith. And so do they die. Maybe I'm too romantic about this. Maybe acorns kick and scream over their fate. Maybe it's not that acorns voluntarily let go at all. Perhaps they hang on for dear life, literally, while the wind and tree try to shake them loose. And don't blame the tree; it is, after all, the wind that does the shaking. The wind jostles and bounces the branches and leaves until the acorns can no longer hang on, until .th,.ey fall, with a plop, onto the ground below. In my room is an 1con, Rublev's The Holy Trinity. On it are three figures, the three visitors greeted by Abraham. Each represents a different person of the Holy Trinity. They are, from left to right, Son, Father, and Spirit. They are seated at a table and on its center is a solitary cup. The symbolism speaks of the cup as the cup of commitment or decision or vow. The cup is the symbol of the incarnation. The Son in drinking it would vow to undergo the incarnation, the ministry and death. The Father looks sadly at the Son but makes no move to urge his drinking. The decision must be made freely and the Father respects that. The Spirit, though, is much less inhibited, much more impetuous. The Spirit motions toward the. cup, as if to push it closer to the Son, encouraging him to drink. In Greek and Hebrew, the word for spirit and wind is the same. I think that the word for Jesus and acorn should be the same also. The Spirit blew the cup across the table and thbn with a sudden gust blew the Son right out of heaven so that he fell, with a plop, upon the earth to live so briefly and then with a sigh die so that from his seed new life might sprout and grow. I wonder if the Son would rather have hung on to the Father? I Wonder if without the Spirit's insistence the Son would have continued to cling to heaven? Who can blame either of them? What were the Son's odds for.success? And the Spirit? The Spirit is the seed contained within the acorn--Son. Do not feel sorry for the acorn, nor for the Son. Rather, feel sorry for yourself; All of us are acorns. Each one is complete with a spirit-seed~ We cling to a cross and cling desperately, lest we too fall and we too germinate into a new and different creation. And yet, it is our purpose and fate to let go and drop down into the life we find ourselves forced by various kinds of necessity to live. I like to fancy myself a tree. Sad to say I am only the acorn. I am meant to fall, meant to die so that the. life within me might sprout and grow. For now, though, l~cling with all my strength to the tree, high above life, not at all anxious to.surrender my grasp and fall into it. I look down on the acorns already fallen with arms that ache and fingers that are numb. The wind will not let up. It is but a matter of time. Eventually I will fall and that will be that. There will be nowhere to go but into life, a life wholly foreign and different from my life as an acorn. Up to now I have not minded being an 506 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 acorn. But now I see a very serious shortcoming: acorns can't fly. The Waves and Tides of Life Yesterday I stood at the water's edge and watched the waves ebb and flow. The water Would rush ashore in a burst of extroversion and then, just as shyly, recede, as though it had scared and embarrassed itself with its own excitement. Today I think, how much life is like those waves. There is an ebb flow to my emotions. Today, though, 1 ebb, recede back into myself to be alone with my loneliness. And today, as I sit and recall the waves, they seem like hands groping, flaying out to grab hold of an3ithing or anyone~ They are like the hands of a ghost that can. neither hold nor ever be held. The waves that beat the sand and stones, are they ii'ying in fact to climb the shore? to step out and stand and walk out among the people who have from time to time plunged into their world only to emerge after a moment and walk away? Those people who enjoyed the waves for a moment, befriending them only to leave for the business of their own lives, leaving, too, the waves to lap longingly after life they can never know or share? I with them ebb further into my heart, receding back into the memories of those who have plunged for a moment into my llfe only to leave and leave me lapping after them. Like a lake .I sit alone, from time to time rising up with a rush only to slip back into myself, startled and embarrassed by my own need. Something within me is like a wave that slaps ashore but never stays, Something within me surges up only to be pulled back within by some internal gravity. I'm not sure if that something is just shy, testing the air and environ-ment then fleeing back inside, or if it is trapped, tryin~ to escape the,grasp of something else holding it bound. I don't even know what the something within me is, the wave-like thing that surges within me. I wonder if the waves feel the futility of their endless spending of energy? What do the waves accOmplish? At what do they succeed? Too pragmatic a question? I guess so. But the question comes because I, like them, ebb and flow over and over, so much motion without any progress onward or toward. Things within me, feelings, truths, continually well up and slide onto the shore of consciousness only to teasingly return to the depths, staying only long enough to be quickly felt, to be glanced, to pose a question but never long enough to give: an answer or even listen to my response. Maybe then 1 have it all wrong. Maybe the point of the waves is not for them to venture ashore. Maybe the waves are not groping but beckoning hands, calling me to enter it, urging and compelling me into its depths. The ebb and flow of feelings that roll up into consciousness, are they bait meant to lure me into my own depths? Endlessly they call, endlessly they reach .out to stroke and caress me into compliance, easing my fear with warm, soft strokes. Those waves that nowhere go gather me and draw me not nowhere but~down, deep down, then deeper still until memory of shore is gone and the memory of me upon the shore is equally gone, washed away by the waves. Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self ] 507 The Bondage of Busyness I'm sorry, Lord, so much these past few weeks l've had to do, to be busy about. How easy it is to put off being sensitive and aware by doing. It leaves no time to be, only time enough to do. Lately I've been going through life at light's speed. Stars blur into indistinguishable streaks of white light. And people too. And you, God; and you, too. You bead up on the surface of my life like water and roll away while 1 race on. It is for self-defense. Awareness requires sensitiv-ity and for that ability to feel. To feel. Can't I just ponder you slowly in my mind? Must I dare to feel you? To be pierced by experiences, allowing them to enter in, leave an impression, even draw blood7 There ,is something in me struggling to be free. Always the same words. And why not? It is the same reality. Bondage. When, Lord, when will I learn? When will 1 take the lessons to heart and emerge whole and authentic? It is being you require not sacrifice~ not doing. They are quite wrong, those who say "just being" is a passivity. It is work, painful work without respite: 1 know why people are wont to go mad. It is all so painfully obvious. Why do I go on living in such foreign realms where things done and not being alive is the currency? The True, the Real is here, so obvious, waiting. 1 wait too. I wait for death to free me from all my falsity and foolishness, from the hustle and bustle. And l blame you for the fire and brimstone I call upon myself. I hold my breath while ! pray for death, hoping ¯ all the while it will pass me by.,I am too afraid of living; of feeling life, to die. Doing is my excuse for not being, for not taking the time or oppo~unity to feel. After death, 1 imagine, there will be all eternity to be. But even now I can feel the fabric of the womb pressing against my face and hands. My fingers grope to tear it away. 1 strain to open my eyes against it and see beyond it, crying an angry moan through it and dissolve it with my tears. Being means living and I will not allow myself to be born. I want to die but fear birth, fear the living. If 1 do not die I cannot be born, cannot be. 1 am afraid of eternity, afraid that once I pass through this existence to life I will have nothing to keep me from being, from living truly. It is not physical death I fear. That is only the symbol. Physical death reminds me that someday I must make the 9assage: Physical death is a taunt that reminds me that this existence is illusion and all the busy things I do to keep me from being and feeling are illusory too. That's why I flee from death, for 1 am afraid to live, to be, to feel. The struggle is to be born. The bondage to be enwombed. Death is the door I refuse to open for life awaits me on the other side. When will I let go and let death take me? When, 1 know now, I can let go of my fear of feeling. Death is release but 1 do not want to be free. No, that is not true. I crave it, crave life even as I fear it. I die to the wrong thing. I die to life so that I may live in death instead of dying to death, the death in which I now, and yet, live. If I die to death 1 shall rise again to live life, to feel life. And so, to insulate myself, I lie buried beneath piles of mud while my spirit struggles to soar. I choose death 5011 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 for it is painless, effortless, feelingless. The mud is all the deedsI do, must do, ought to do, have to do, can do, should do. All these excuses, a facade of life to imagine the things 1 do, the death I live in, means I am really alive. I refuse the resurrection and choose the facade. The facade of life that I live, for I have not died. Death waits. I can be embraced any time, any time I choose to live. It is so simple:,to be free 1 must simply die to death and be willing to live. Two things block my way, fear and self-consciousness. Maybe there are three things, death is the third. They are, I'm sure, all interrelated., Fear of death of the selL.l have, after all, gone through quite a turnsince my graduate school day~ when self-fulfillment was the key. Maybe it still is a key, though not to any doors I find before me. The key now is death~ death to self. Maybe I'm morel a Buddhist than 1 thought. Fear stares me in the face every :step of the way. The face of fear fills my vision. It is only an illusion though. Fear has no more a face than does a mirror. Fear's face is my own reflection. So here it is Good Friday, a day of self-denial, a day of the celebration of the conquest of fear. Your faith, Lord, conquered your fear. And for me, I lack the faith for it will bid me to face fear and enter into death. And when 1 die I shall rise__to live, to feel. Feel what? The truth: uncertainty, sorrow, loneliness made more real by love, impotence, insignificance. Even your death, Lord, has changed so little. What then of mine? ~;ou see my self-consciousness is all that keeps me from consciousness. Make no mistake, I know the grace is there. I know that if I stand silently with outstretched hands you will fill them. For that reason my hands are tightly closed into fists, fists that grasp and cling to every shred of self-consciousness I can find. ~Get behind me, Satan, your ways are not God's but man's." There is so much power in those words. The object of that little outburst of yours was not Peter's remarks but the voice within you that Peter only echoed. Why after all die, to whom will it matter in the end, much less now? I have the same voice in me, it is my voice trying to shout down the voice Of the spirit-seed begging for birth. And so I cry out.with you, "get behind me, self-consciousness." An Allegory on Arising Somewhere an alarm is ringing but I can't seem to wake enough to turn it off. It pulls and tugs at me but I am too groggy to do much more than mutter with swollen tongue still drunk with sleep. I must wake, I tell myself, but my limbs refuse to acknowledge any signals from my duty-bound brain. Of the past Triduum, Good Friday was my best day, of the three the day of greatest wakefulness. It left me eager for the Vigil service--but there it ended, l lie in my tomb thrilling over resurrection but cannot muster the consciousness to rise. I close my eyes to resurrection so that I may return to the opium of my ¯ Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self / 509 dreams. I,know I am dreaming for I know that 1 am unawake. But my sleep-logged body lacks the bouyancy to rise. I sleep on while the alarm rings on. Good Friday and I became such good friends because we spoke the same language: death--only unlike Good Friday, I refused to move on to'Easter Sunday, Each day by my own decree is a Good Friday. For, having to choose between the tomb and wakefulness, I have chosen the tomb. Holy Thursday was too busy for me to find in it any portal to mystery, let alone your presence. But Good Friday loomed like a sudden door in the middle of the service and I entered in. It felt right, necessary. I need to die, to hand myself over to death. But I refuse to enter fully into Good Friday, for from where I stood j,ust inside the threshold I could see that it extended out into Holy Saturday--when the alarm begins to ring--and opened up into Easter Sunday. So there it is, a matrix of transformation, a labyrinth one wanders through to emerge as some new self the old one lost somewhere within. I don't even think I mind the death anymore. It is somehow inevitable and in a sense it has already begun. But in the foreground I can hear the alarm waking me to consciousness even before fully asleep. It is that that scares me. I try to ignore it: can't you tell I'm dead? What do you mean it's time to get up? Do the dead rise and shine? I found in Good Friday an escape from consciousness and feeling but found also the alarm that tries so persistently to raise these unwilling limbs to new life. It does not end on Good Friday. On the third day, it says, he rose again. It took Jesus three days to lose his tug-of-war with God. Obvously you simply weren't trying, l'm proof that the contest can go on much longer. We are told to give our lives over to God as though we were lumps of clay, as though it were an act done once and for all. That is simply not how it is. We are balls of yarn that God slowly pulis, unraveling us and knitting us into something new. The same yarn but a new being--and we don't even get to choose the pattern. And so I hang on as mightily as I can, trying to unravel what God has knitted and rewrap myself into a safely static ball of potential: After all; look at what God did with the "yarn" that was--and is--Jesus. His own friends couldn't recognize him when God got through. So God and I are engaged in a tug-of-war. It took you three days, Lord? Three days to let totally go and be remade? Would that I were as weak. Unfortunately, God does not seem to be as strong as we claim. He is losing, his new creation is losing its shape, slowly being undone. The alarm bids me to stir and awaken, to loosen my hold on myself and let what I am be used up, transformed and brought back as one more patch on a huge and colorful woven mosiac. But now I am talking about Easter. Now I am talking about wakefulness, consciousness, the empty tomb with its wrappings neatly folded and put aside, like sheets and blankets on a bed remade and forgotten during the daylight hours. But I am still wrapped warm within my bed. The tomb is not yet vacant. I cling to my self-consciousness, the self 1 think 1 know and do not want to lose. But despite the sleep, I cannot hold on to myself much longer, the sleep deepens and my grip upon myself loosens. 510 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 God. tugs once more and smiles, "Nothing but a little snag," and goes on knitting making who knows, what to one day soon be sewn into a patchwork of eternity and serve some purpose in a plan not my own. Each day for me is Good Friday and soon Holy Saturday when I will be remade an~ then reappear a stranger, washed ashore on the morning of some Easter Sunday. Reciprocal On top of hell a bluebird sits On an apple branch. A mocking bird's swelling song, Tiptop in a tall cedar, chants A confiteor to such irony. Cows graze in emerald pastures. The sun~ rising red, puts the moon to rest: And morning prayers are said. Below these placid pastures, Below fring.ed acres, --primed and waiting-- Are the missiles, restrained, yet ready To fly whistling seaward, to other Pastures, where other dwellers sit on Top of hell, listening to another Bluebird singing, on an apple branch, A mocking bird trilling, tiptop In a tall cedar. Martha Wickham 560 N. Walnut, Apt~ °1 o Taylorville, IL 62568 Ecclesial Relationships for Religious: Desires and Limits Alexa Suelzer, S.P. This article is the text of the second annual lecture and colloquium sponsored by Review for Religious in conjunction with the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University which took place at the university April 12-13. In the spring of 1983, Sister Alexa was appointed to the special committee of religious formed by Archbishop John Quinn to collaborate with the ponifical commission established to facilitate the pastoral ministry of bishops to religious in this country. Sister Alexa, whose background is in Scripture, has had extensive administrative experience within her own community. She may be addressed as St. Mary-of-the-Woods College; St. Mary-of-the-Woods, IN 47876. Almost a year has passed since John Paul 11 wrote to the bishops of the United States concerning the religious--both men and women--in their dio-ceses and.sent them a document titled Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Nfe As Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of ApostolateJ a compendium drawn from pertinent decrees of Vatican H, papal writings, and documents of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes. Its authority derives from its sources and from the personal approval of John Paul? Perhaps there was a time when such imposing credentials would preclude criticism--but no more! Reaction from religious has covered the gamut from strong affirmation thro.ugh indifference to angry rejection. One religious' assertion that the teaching affirms her.waY of life is counterbalanced by another's depression at seeing her path questioned. Between these extremes lie varying degrees of agreement and disagreement. It seems safe to say that the enumeration of the indispensable elements (prayer, evangelical witness, and so forth) meets with general acceptance, but description of each of them finds the variety of reactions described. Sometimes the criticism is on peripheral issues: Why single out American religious? ~Why 511 512 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 were the LCWR and CMSM passed by? What is the hidden agenda? At times the criticism stems from misreading the text, e.g., presuming that the "ending of the special period of experimentation," condemns religious life henceforth to the s, tatus quo. At times the language and concepts are faulted as archaic and stereotypical, better suited to an earlier time. More serious are the theological challenges: the failure to realize adequately the evolution of religious life through the centuries, the use of consecration as a master category, the neglect of the prophetic element, and an unsatisfactory eccle-iology. From listening and speaking to religious, both individually, and in groups, I am led to believe that the last name---ecclesiology--is the source of the greatest difficulty. How one receives the document depends in great part upon the view of the Church--the ecclesiology--that is operative, consciously or uncon-sciously, in the reader:. Ecclesiology is assuredly an issue, for relatedness of religious life to the Church is one of the clearest affirmations in Essential Elements. In his letter accompanying the document John Paul refers to this fact in such phrases as "their ecclesial vocation,TM and "specific relation to tile' Church."~ Essential Elements repeats and elaborates these ideas: "Religious life belongs to the life and holiness of the Church. The Church authenticates the gift and mediates the consecration.6 And throughout there is a steady recurrence of phi'ases like "canonically erected by competent ecclesiastical authority";7 "according to constitutions wh'ich the Church, by her authority, accepts and approves";8 or "works of charity entrusted to the institute by the Church and performed in her name.''9 Relationship to the Church is in fact the seventh of the ten essentials named. Some parts of the section bear quoting: Religious life has its own place in relation to the divine and hierarchical structure of the Church. The founders and foundresses of religious institutes ask the hierarchial Church.publicly to authenticate the gift of God on which the existence of the institute depends. In their origins, religious institutes depend in a unique way on the hierarchy. As a particularly rich and important example of these manifold gifts, each religious institute depends for the authentic discernment of its founding charism on the God-given ministry of the hierarchy. This relationship obtains not only for the first recognition of the institute but also for its ongoing development. In short, the Church continues to mediate the conseCratory action of God in a specific way, recognizing and fostering this particular form of consecrated life.t0 Similarly in the section on evangelical witness it is noted that the saving work of Christ is shared by means of the concrete services mandated by the Church 'in the approval of the constitutions,tt The fact of this approval qualifies'the kind of service to be undertaken, since it must be faithful to the Gospel, the Church and the institute.12 ¯ .These statements are explicit to the poi'nt of overkill. They can be seen as a Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / $15 counterbalance (if not a reaction) to the exuberance of post-conciliar years in which the institutional dimension of the Church had been played down, if not denigrated. To understand how this state of affairs came about, it will be helpful to look at events in the field of ecclesiology both during and after the Council: In the first session of Vatican II the proposed schema on the Church offered by the Theological Commission was modeled, on the standard theological treatment of th~ manuals, a treatment laying heavy stress on the juridical and organizational aspects of the Church. Quite early in the debate the Council Fathers realized that the desired definition and description could not be simply in external, hierarchical terms, but the Church must be seen as mystery, that is, as described by Paul V1, a divine reality inserted into history, not fully to be captured by human thought and language. It is an indication of the development of the Church's understanding bf her nature and mission that the bishops turned to a fresh approach which would, be more historical, dynamic, and biblical. After a new draft and a series of revisions during the second and.third sessions, Lumen Gentium, The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church,~3 was approved almost unanimously/and was immediately pro-mulgated, November 21, 1964. ~ The course of theology these past two decades has been charted largely by the insights'of Lumen Gentium. Its pastorial stance, its :use of fresh imagery, and its insistence on the universal c, all to holiness provided a new approach to the role of .the laity. Its presentation of the episcopate (a subject whose discussion had been necessarily cut short~ during the interrupted deliberations of Vatican I) introduced collegiality. And the discussion of the relation between the Church and other Christians led not only to rapprochement with other denominations but, through recognition of the Spirit's action in all men and women, led the Church to a clearer understanding of her own nature and mission. The decision of the Council Fathers to begin their reflection at the level of mystery, and only thereafter consider the visible, hierarchical elements of the Church was not fortuitous. The work of Vatican .II was built on an .ecclesiology which had been developing for the past half century. Nevertheless the Council, by reason of its stature and its pronouncements, gave a definite impetus to subsequent studies in ecclesiology= The topic is a leading one in the system of Karl Rahner. The major post-coriciliar work of Hans Kiing deals with the Church. Edward Schillebeeckx' recent works in Christology followed upon his treatment, over a period of years,of the Church in terms of sacramentality. On the popular level Avery Dulles' Models of the Church helped the non-specialist to appreciate the Church by means of many models, intellectual constructs, each giving a particular insight into the mystery of the Church, never fully to be apprehended by any of the models, or, indeed, by all of them~ Despite the advances of Vatican II and of subsequent ecclesiology, it 5"14 ] Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 should be recognized that the theology of Vatican I1 is transition theology. Lumen Gentium, for example, is filled with fresh insights, but these are seldom developed and their relation to older views--which the Council apparently still espoused--is not always evident. For example, although: Lumen Gentium treated the'x;isible, hierarchical dimension of:the Church only in second place, the institutional element still looms large, partially, of course, because it could be dealt, with in practical, coherent terms. (Probably the Church as institution is still the model in. possession~among the rank and file.) Again, the Council documents speak often of charismata (dona is the word used) but apart from insisting that these must be respected when shown to be genuine, little is said about the. relationship between "the gifts, both hierarchical ,and charismatic"~4 and their interplay. All in all, a kind of nervousness characterizes some postconciliar theology, especially in "official" statements~ a tendency to distrust the initial steps taken by the Council Fathers and to return to the safer paths of neoscholasticism.~5 l.believe Essential Elements shows such a tendency. At the.same time, by its consideration of the Church0primarily as mystery and its subordination of hierarchical to charismatic elements, Lumen Gentium itself supplied ammunition for the kinds of anti-institutional attacks we have witnessed in recent years. By a sort of semantic shift, "institutional, hierarchical Church" is sometimes referred to as.a separate entity over against---even in conflict with--the "charismatic Church?' When such polarization occurs it is easy to neglect or deny the interpenetration of the visible and invisible dimensions. An authentic theology, however, must develop from an under, standing of the Church as a single reality, both visible and invisible, having both hierarchical and charismatic elements. 16 One consequence of polarization can be seen in a renewed emptiasis upon institutional factors, possibly to balance what is, seen as a too enthusiastic espousal of a "spiritual" Church. Such stress is found in Essential Elements, which notes that the Church's hierarchic character proceeds from the headship of Christ,17 and calls deliberate attention to "the divine and hierarchical structure of the Church."~8 Posing the two dimensions one against the other can be avoided by the sacramental recognizing nature of the Church, an aspect Which is treated in a few, but crucial, sections of Lumen Gentium. Its opening paragraph names the Church."a kind of sacrament or;sign of intimate union with God, and of the unity of' all mankind." It insists that the visible assembly and the spiritual community"form one interlocked reality which is composed of a human and a divine element."~9 But here again the insight is not developed and we are not told how the Church is this sign.20 . .0 The-sacramental principle--a distinguishing mark Of Roman Catho-licism- affirms that God works in and through visible, material :reality. The" principle stems from the realization that, since men and women are finite and limited, the divine is available only sacramentally, that is, by mediation. This sacramental encounter is the point of intersection between God and hispeople, an encounter is the point of intersection between God and his people, an Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 515 encounter through which the grace of Christ reaches individuals and communi-ties. As Thomas Aquinas teaches, Jesus Christ is the great sacrament of God's presence and salvific action. Similarly the Church is the sign of Christ and the Spirit's'~healing presence among us. This traditional teaching has been utilized by many contemporary theologians who see in sacramentality a key to understanding the Church and her mission. Essential Elements insists that religious life "in a special way participates in the sacramental nature of the People of God."~1 But even if one considers the Church primarily in sacramental terms, as the document~ purports to do,22 the visible, institutional aspects can be overpowering--and Essential Elements is here a parade example. It is quite possible to accept :fully the principle of mediation and at the same time object to its wholesale application. In the widest sense sacramentality or mediation applies to the realities through, which the transcendent is disclosed and communicated tb us--realities also through which .our responses to the transcendent are experienced. It is in this very broad sense that Essential Elements uses the principle. This extension of the concept of mediation to numerous aspects of religious life meets with strong criticism and resistance. The document is heavily weighted in terms of mediation through the visible Church and her hierarchy. For example, the profession of the counsels is mediated by the Church;23 it is the Church that authenticates and mediates consecration;24 and continues to mediate the consecratory action of God.2~ Further, the document is replete with phrases like "competent ecclesiastical authority".26 ".vows~which the Church receives",~7 and "authority conferred by the Church."~ Additional evidence of the role of mediation can be seen in the emphasis place upon consecration. Following its sources,~9 Essential Elements insists that "the baptismal gift is the. fundamental Christian consecration and is the root of all others.~° With the:same fidelity3~ it notes that religious life is "a partictilar form of consecration."~ Despite the rather frequent use of the word, however, thenotion of consecration is not central in the source documents, as is evident in specifying phrases such as "a certain special consecration."~a (It is noteworthy also that the Council' Fathers rejected De consecratis "Concern- Consecrated Persons"--as a title for the conciliar decree on religious life.) It is somewhat surprising, then; that Essential Elements has seized upon con-secration as the category unde~ which to organize what it has to say about religious life, ~tating explicitly: "Consecration is the basis of religious life,TM and then continuing to use consecration as a leitmotif in almost every subsequent section. This focus is not pleasing to everyone. True, consecration has been an honored concept in the tradition of the Church for long centuries, but it is not a popular focus today. Consecration (setting aside some one or some thing for divine worship and service) smacks of dualism, and introduces dichotomies alien to a contemporary holistic approach to reality. Rightly or wrongly, the term is seen by some as elitist, a perpetuation of the "state of perfection" 516 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 mentality. It can also be argued that a decree.addressed to members of institutes dedicated to works of the apostolate should accord a higher place to mission, even though the document is careful to note that consecration always leads to mission.35 Further, Essential Elements insists that consecration takes place through an ecclesiastical, hierarchical function; Lumen Gentium states that the liturgical setting of religious profession manifests that it is .a state consecrated to God.37' Thus the action of the Church looms large in comparison with the subjective dedication, that commitment is more decisive than its acceptance by the Church through the hierarchy, an acceptance which makes the commitment visibly and publicly ecclesial. In speaking of conse-cration through the profession of the counsels, Perfectae caritatis says that the perfection of the consecration depends on the~stability of the vows or other bonds.38. On the contrary, it should be emphasized that what consecrates is not the vows,o,but the commitment expressed through the vows," which are specification for a life of total dedication. As the documents themselves make clear, totality is the characteristic of religious life. For many .religious the category of discipleship is a far more meaningful biblical paradigm to use in talking about religious life. Critics have asked why such an attractive concept was not utilized more fully, especially in light of the earlier declaration that "since the fundamental norm of religious life is a following of Christ as proposed by the Gospel, such is to be.regarded by all communities as their supreme law."39 Discipleship is a popular theme today; its bibliography--both for religious and Christians in general--grows apace.~° Avery Dulles has revamped his models in favor of the Church as ~i community of disciples; certainly this schema does justice to the elements present in the other models.4~ Essential Elements, however, refers'only briefly~to discipleship: "Formation is the process of becoming more and more a disciple of Christ."42 Possibly the writers chose to stress consecration (even, as we have seen, expanding the comments of its sources) because discipleship is seen a~ a gift and challenge to all the people of God, and to describe religious life as a particular~ form of discipleship might not provide a sufficient distinction. Consecration, of course, implies discipleship. As already noted; the authen-ticity of the consecration depends upon the. genuine commitment of the subject, that is, upon the acceptance of the demands of a life of discipleship. Critics may be right in holding that the emphasis on consecratio.n--neces~arily external' and involving mediation--may obscure the element of personal decisions and dedication as well as invite unneeded supervison from without. Consecraton can become a mere rite--something that is done to me, Anrther aspect Essential Elements chose not to treat is the prophetic nature of religious life. Here the document imitates the reserve of its sources. Considering the prophetic role of the people of God Lumen Gentium notes only that . ¯ the holy People ofGod shares also in Christ's prophetic office. It spreads abroad a " living witness to him, especially by a life of faith and:charity and by offering tO God a Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 517 sacrifice of praise, the tribute of lips which give honor to his name.43 Nowhere does it elaborate this theme. In the subsequent chapter on religious the many riches of their life are noted, but without specific mention of a prophetic function.'~ Essential" Elements does not go beyond its sources, although some paragraphs in the section on witness show a prophetic stance.45 Conciliar documents and subsequent pronouncements have made a studied effort to avoid defining too closely the essence of ~'eligious life. Despite the emphasis it places upon consecration Essential Elements calls tfiis the basis not the essence, of religious life. Public vows, consecration, life in community all these are described and discussed but with no affixing of strict labels. Given the evolution of religious life over the centuries (the shift from eremetical to cenobitical forms, the role of poverty, the concept of mediated obedience, the juridical nature of religious commitment)° it would be foolhardy to fasten upon any one of these important elements as everywhere and at all times essential to religious life. What the°history of religious life does make clear is that this way of life is created by a person's total dedication to God in an' exclusive relationship. Early monks were described (and later defined) as completely ded!cated to God and totally oriented to his service. To become a monk was identical with giving oneself over to God. Later St. Thomas insisted on the totallgift of one's life as the hallmark of religious life. Celibacy, renunciation, eventually mediate~d obedience all were expressions of the interior commitment to live entirely for God. The religious brings the commitment common to all Christians to the level of a lifestyle. As the core of such a life is the personal decision to respond, to the internally received vocation. Vatican II acknow-ledged this interpretation, affirming that the religious is "totally dedicated to God and is committed to the honor and service of God under a new and special title."46 Perfectae carita~is speaks of "self-surrender involving their entire lives,"47 and "a call to live for God alone."~8 Essential Elements picks up on the same note, speaking of a "profound and free self-surrender."49 The religious "dedicates the whole of life.to God's service."~0 In reflecting on the relative merits of consecration and discipleship as the better paradigm for clarifying religious life, it is ~vell to remember that all our descriptions and discussioris are part. of the history of a form of life which is still evolving. The definitive word on the Church has yet to be. spoken; how much more so for religious life! Surely there is room for more than one view. Given the conservative (preservative) nature of religious writing in general, the document of n~cessity shows a rootedness in .th+ past and a somewhat unwilling concession to the exigencies of the contempo~rary scene. But it has definitely advanced beyond positions of twenty years ago, evincing a greater understanding of different styles of community life, of the need for new forms of service, the mutuality of authority and obedience, and the nature and scope of format~.on. De.spite shortcomings, it is a document we can live and work with. 5111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 But each of us comes to the reading of Essential Elements with particular baggage of our own baggage which may lead us to accept or reject the document out of hand. I would now like to consider some of the obstacles in the way of an honest approach to Essential Elements. Today we hear a great deal about tension: tension headaches and tensions between the super-powers; harmful tensions and creative tensions; interpersonal and intrapersonal tensions. It is the last-n~med--intrapersonal--that I want to speak aboui. All of. us necessarily operate with inner tensions which can be destructive or helpful depending on how successfully we achieve a creative balance. Most ofour specific tensions can be gro.uped under the master category of a tension between the world of desire and the world of limitsP~ A consideration of this topic may furnish some insights on our attitude to the Church in general and to Essential Elements in particular. It does noi require much reflection on the data of our experience to show that human thoughts and feelings oscillate between the poles of great expectations--for ourselves and our world and a depressed.recognition of the barriers imposed by our finiteness. Lumen Gentium says it well: ¯ . tl~e modern world shows itself at once powerful and weak. capable of the noblest deeds or the foulest . The truth is that the imbalances under which the.modern world labors are.linked with that more basic imbalance rooted in the heart of man. For ~n man 'himself many elements wrestle with each other. Thus. on the one hand? as a creature he experiences his limitations in a multitude of ways. On the other, he feels himself to be boundless in his desires and summoned to a higher life.52 The language of Lumen Gentium is abstract and non-specific, but practical examples from everyda3~ life are not lacking, The realm of desires is the realm of imagining, questioning, fantasizing--outside space and time where the human spirit meets no fixed limits. We can thirst to be theacme of beauty or charm, to attain all wealth or knowledge, to abolish in~hstice and brifig peace to the world. No sooner do we pe,rceive something to be good than we can desire it. But the moment we attempt to actualize our desire we meet limits, for every acl of choice is an act of self-limitation as well. Some of these limits are built in: our sex, race, nationality. Others are products of our environment, training and education. Our desire for knowledge is contained by our mental ability, educationai opportun!ties or financial status. We can be overwhelmed by these' limits and refuse to work at transcending them or we can unrealistically deny their existence and embark on a Faustian venture doomed to failure. We mu~t have a healthy ~respect for limitations, but not settle for them. Conversely, like Daniel we must bemen and women of desire, aspiring to'excellence, but aware of limits, l~esires and limits interact: they test, correct and sustain each other. in a particular situation, however, we may deny one or the other and fail to hold them in creative (ension. We haay objectify our boundaries, making a value of our very limitations. Or we may objectify our aspirations, setting them Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 5"19 forth as values in themselves and refusing to acknowledge any restrictions upon them.53 Briefly, and perhaps simplistically, a religious with a strongly institutional view of the Church may hold such a position through a kind of mindless loyalty which relieves her or him of responsibility for life decisions. Likewise the one who places no curb upon personal autonomy and independence may dismiss outright directives coming from hierarchical sources. The refusal to transcend limits or the failure to acknowledge them results in a harmful imbalance leading to depression, anger and arrogance. Some examples will illustrate our subject at hand relatedness to the Church. In the first place, we come up against the need to find a balance between desires and limits as we reflect upon the respective demands of tradition and experience. T.S. Eliot has observed that the mature poet must possess the historical sense--a perception not only of the past as past but of its, abiding presence: the poet must write with all of Europe in his bones.54 This kind of interaction is hard to come by, the more so in contemporary society. Our age of pluralism and personalism stresses, and quite rightly, the role of experience in living responsibly. Pope John noted this in his opening address .to the Vatican Council: ¯. the spirit of the ~,hole world expects a step forward toward a doctrinal penetration and a formation of consciousness ~n faithful and perfe~:t conformity to the authentic doctrine, which, however, should be studied and expounded through the methods ofo research and through the literary forms of modern thought. The substance of the ancient deposit of faith is one thing; the way in which it is presented is another.5~ Contemporary iheology¯in general works to correlate the classic formula-tions of faith with today's experience of salvation, a task involving past and present, tradition and experience in a process which is the pro.duct, not of caprice or whim. but of a.reflecting faith communityP6 In the particular theology of religious life we must bring our own experience to bear on the received teaching about that life. Ideally interaction should result, but realistically one or other element tradition or experience may be minimized or denied. A religious may place such restrictions on consulting the data of experience that he becomes frozen in the past. If the only thing necessary is to rec~ix~e a pat:adigm of religious life from others--whether the constitutions of my institute or hierarchical pronouncements--then personal experience is of small moment. Life then becomes a constant, perhaps defiant, reiteration of tradition. Personalism. pluralism, consultation of experience are all regarded as a betrayal of religious life. When a document like Essential Elements is received it is absorbed but held apart from the events in life which legitimately modify its content. On the other hand, a religious can objectify her own experience, making it the primary judge of reality, canonizing it to the point of neglect or denial Of the place of tradition in religious life, with a consequent dismissal of whatever does not accord with individual experience. But raw experience has little value. T.S. Eliot mourns,."We have had the experience but missed the meaning.'~7 Constitutions must do more than describe contemporary experience; they 590 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 must submit that experience to the light of the Gospel and traditional teaching concerning religious life. An oft-repeated criticism of Essential Elements is its failure adequately to acknowledge "the American e.~xperience," both the impact of democracy upon the experienc~e of religious life'in general, and the more specific American experience of the past two "decades of adaptation and renewal. Religious everywhere exist within the context of a particular culture which profoundly affects and shapes their lives. In the United States these past twenty years have witnessed the effort to articulate a form of religious life which is genuine and at the same time inculturated, that is, disengaged from the structures and customs of the past and brought into' line with contemporary American life. Inculturation is a desideratum, but so is "counterculturation," particularly for religious. Once again we .are in the world of desires and limits. The requirement~ of a culture often lead to a re-interpretation of the founder's charism. But not all elements of a culture are compatible with the Gospel; some are hostile. For authentic religious life there must be a continuing dialogue between the Gospel and its cultural expression. Let us look at another example. The Council calls us to be a pilgrim people, wayfaring Christians who have here no lasting ~ity. But the attitude proper to a pilgrim is threatened by the nester (who wants to move not at all) and by the rover (for whom change is the very stuff of life). The nester is all too willing to stay put. Religious 'who ' welcome the document's stre~s upon corporate mission, seeing in it the preservation of the founder's charism and an assurance of Church approval, need to reflect whether such l~oyalty does not stem from an exaggerated nesting instinct which makes thefia satisfied with limitations, freeing them from the risk of other works or from~the challenging forms of community and prayer which new tasks might demand. Nesters t~est comfortably in their limits, taking a passive stance and opting for the security provided by familiar structures. Nesters are often hard workers, but comfort and security, not challenge and growth, are their expectations of religious life. The kingdoffi °lSossesses for them no sense of urgency. Because such persons often do not think for themselves, they readily go along with the crowd and compromise values if this will help mairitain the status quo. To move frbm nester to pilgrim the situation must be acknowledged~ for what it is: a refusal to transcend limits and take responsibility for life. Such recognit.ion brings freedom to move beyond self, freedom to become a genuine pilgrim. Rovers too have difficulty balancing desires and limits, but of a different kind. Such religious entertain exaggerated notions of what (hey or their institute could accomplish if freed from hierarchical trammels. In warnings about scattering resources over too many works the rovers see only an encouragement of timid mediocrity and they are resentful of anyone who suggests parameters to their utopian schemes. Moving from project to project, they are voluble about what they are against--less clear about what they stand Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 521 for. Destructive anger is often operative under the guise of zeal for the kingdom and service for the oppressed. A true pilgrim spirit cannot be attained without recognizing the poverty imposed by limitations. Johannes Metz observes: Through the transcendental expanse of his spirit, man lives in the open air. in the future of unlimited possibilities. His task is not to lose himself there, 15ut to make something of himself through them. He makes them his potentialities by his historically unique and irrevocable personal decision, through which he finds a foothold in the th~:ust of his existence. Doubtless we could multiply instances of such tensions within us. Let a final eXample serve as summary: the struggle between self-fulfillme~nt and self-transcendence. Thanks to developments in philo.sophy and the behavioral sciences our society has passed from institutionalism to personalism,,from an often static essentialism to existentialis.m. Religious life has reflected these changes. As novices many of us were "trained" (and the word is significant) in a traditional ethic Of self-denial and conformity; now we are confronted with healthful challenges to personal growth through responsible decision-making. Where once we awaited assignment at the discretion of the superior, now our gifts, our talents---even our preferences--are consulted and respected. The insights of psychology tell us that much of the discipline of the past--the asceticism, penitential practices, total-institution structures--was not the excellent means for personal development we once thought. Scores of institutes have mounted extensive programs: workshops in psychology, assertiveness training, human potential and the like--all dedicated to the self-actualization of the religious. This is to the good. Religious who were formerly content to let life happen to them, with limits imposed' by institutional structures and custom, have awakened to a sense:of freedom, responsibility and renewed vitality. They can now rejoice in new ways of acting unfettered by pessismism] legalism or guilt. But the journey°to self-fulfillment has pitfalls of its own. The goods of p~rsonal growth and independence can assume top rank in a hierarchy of objectified, individualistic values. The movement to actualize human potential can be trivialized tb the point of a petulant "doing my thing." Poised against the desire fore fulfillment is the Gospel call to conversion and self-transcendence. Behavioral scientists ask how the self of psychology and the self of the Gospel can be reconciled and some of them see no possibility of this. An easy appeal to the slogan, "The glory of God is man fully alive," would seem to suggest that the path of self-actualization is the only one we need to ~follow. But Jesus' directives about denying oneself, taking up the cross and even dying are still normative for the Christian. The dichotomy between self-fulfillment and the demands of Christian spirituality can be bridged only by a transcendence that reaches beyond both self-actualization and self-denial. Our deepest yearnings-- the desire for meaning, truth, value, love---can be satisfied only when we shift our primary focus from our personal needs and desires to the needs of others. It is to such transcendence that John Paul calls the whole Church, but 522 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 especially us religious, inviting us to live more intensely .the mystery of the redemption. It is a call to holiness and renewal, a call to penance and conversion.59 In practical terms the call requires objective and humble evaluation of our life. We can of course choose not to heed this particular appeal. ,We can receive the document as an unwelcome and unwarranted admonition, spend our timelooking for the hidden agenda, fault the document for its omissions and commissions. In such case we have'had the experience but missed the meaning. ~ Essential Elements is an authoritative document, but not a definitive one. Like Lumen Gentium it does not canonize the past nor consecrate tl~e present but prepa.res for the futui'e, not least of all by reason of the fruitful dialogue it can initiate. A healthy realism shows that we are all, hierarchy and religious alike, part of a sinful Church, semperformanda et reformanda. We manifest the mystery of the Lord "ina faithful though shadowed Way.'~0 Let us work to remove the shadows so that we may become those "blazing emblemsTM of the kingdom in a Church which is truly lumen gentium, the light of the world. NOTES ~Hereafter, Essential Elements or EE. The edition used is that of the Daughters of St. Paul, Boston, 1983. ~lts application must be made with due regard for the principles applicable to all magisterial pronouncements. These principles, however, are not always clear. Karl Rahner notes, ~Theology has shown relatively little interest in a more nuanced answer to the question of the proper and permissible relationship of, the average Catholic to the official teaching of the Ch,,urch." See Rahner and K-H. Weger; Our Christian Faith: Answer for the Future (New ~ork: Crossroad, 1981), p. 125. 3EE. 2. 4Lette~ of John Paul II in EE, 4. 51bid. 3. 6EE, 8. 71bid, 10:, 81bid, II. 91bid; 12. ~01bid, 38, 40, 41, 42. ~qbid, 24. ~21bid ~3Hereafter,'LG. The sohrce for this and other documents of Vatican !I is Walter M. Abbott, ed., The Documents of Vatican !! (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966)~ ~4LG, 4. ~sSee Karl Rahner,~Concernfor the Church, Theological Investigations, XX, tr. E. Quinn (New York: Crossroad. 1981), pp, 94--97, ~6"~he disjunctive use of these terms is unfortunate. Karl Rahner notes that "the official element in the Church has a ~zharismatic element. For it is evident that the gifts of the Spirit can only be regulated by a gift of the Spirit. In other words any attempt to regard the official and charisma