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Issue 20.6 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; Carl ]. P]ei]er, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 398 plan of all liturgical worship: 1) the service is begun with a reading; 2) after the reading follows singing; 3) and the service is ended with a prayer. Among the early Christians all prayer services and devotions were carried out accord-ing to this basic plan, and since the third 6r fourth cen-tury this has been the ruling principle of all liturgical services.-" Such a plan is not merely arbitrary, nor is an accidental or aesthetic arrangement of elements. Ac-cording to Father Jungmann: ¯. it is in character with the essential nature of the Christian plan of redemption. Our salvation, typified by the divine word which we receive in the reading, comes from God. It descends from heaven to earth and stirs within the hearts of the faithful the echo of song. Thereupon the prayers and petitions of the Christian community are gathered up and brought back to God on high by the priest. There is something dramatic about this arrangement; through it we actually come to realize what is meant in saying that the liturgy is the public worship of the Church? This structure--reading, song, prayer--is filled out ac-cording to basic themes central to Christian revelation. In the Christian message of salvation and the prayer of the Church, certain themes appear as focal, around which all other truths are centered and from which they receive their meaning.' One of these themes centers on the love and kindness God shows His people. Freely, out of love, He created man; freely and out of even greater love He has worked out man's salvation. Such generous and unmerited good-ness demands a response of love and thanksgiving. Grati-tude is thus ~een as a fundamental attitude of man, and more so of a Catholic: "O give thanks to the Lord, for He is good" (Ps 135:1). It is this scriptural theme of God's love calling forth our grateful response that runs through the proposed Thanksgiving Day "bible vigil." Perhaps a fuller explanation will be helpful. Reading God's plan of salvation is effected and manifested to us by His Word, and according to Scripture this redemptive plan is realized gradually. Somehow man's redemption was to be achieved through Israel, the Lord's chosen peo- -"J. A. Jungmann, s.J., Liturgical Worship (New York: Pustet, 1941), p. 67. Father Jungmann devotes most of this book to a dis-qussion of the basic liturgical groundplan. See also Louis Bouyer, Liturgical Piety (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame' Press, 1955). ~ Jungmann, op. cit., p. 80. * For a fuller treatment of the structure and themes of Christian revelation see Johannes Hofinger, S.J., The Art o] Teaching Chris-tian Doctrine (Notre Dalne: University of Notre Dame Press, 1957) and Mary Perkins Ryan, Key to the Psalms (Chicago: Fides, 1957). Most useful for constructing "bible vigils" is Reading the Word ol God by Lawrence Dannemiller, S.S. (Baltimore: Helicon, 1960). pie. After centuries of intimate relations with Yahweh, this nation brought forth a:Savior; from this race the Word Himself took flesh. And when in the fulness of time God became man, He suffered, died and rose from the dead that men might die with Him to sin and .rise with Him to forgiveness and grace. His redemptive activity continues on through the centuries in His new people, the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church. Finally, He is to come again bringing the divine plan to its fulfillment in the new and eternal Jerusalem. The .plan itself is one; likewise the revelation of the plan is unified in the unique Word of God. The Old Testament, then, is not just a collection of interesting and sometimes edifying stories, but the gradual manifestation of God's plan for our sal-vation. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is also our Father in heaven. He is the one Lord of History, as the Church teaches us in the. liturgy of the Easter Vigil: "O God, we behold your ancient wonders shining even to our own time. For that which the power of your right hand did for one people in freeing them from Egyptian bondage you accomplish now for the salvation of all men by the waters of rebirth." Throughout the Old Testa-ment run basic themes "about God and man's relationship to Him. Although the stories vary,~ the basic relationships do not. Central to the religion o-f the Israelites was the belief that their God, Yahweh, moved by love alone, not-by any merit on their part, had called them, chosen .them out from among the nations, to be .His people_. "You shall be My people, and I will be your~ God" (Ez 36:26). The initiative was wholly on His~part. This call, given initially to Abraham, found its highest expression through Moses in the Exodus, the focal point of Jewish religious history. Their God saved them from slavery, destroyed their pur-suers, and leading them through the desert, formed and purified them into a nation, His chosen people, and fi-nally brought them to the promised.land. The initiative was all His. He perpetuated His call in a covenant with His people, a promise.eternally binding, freely offered out of love. This covenant was prepared for and initiated in the first act of creative love. It became more definitive in the Garden, then with Noah, later with Abraham, and finally with Moses. From then on, it was renewed ritually each yegr by the Hebrew people. Such a covenant renewal ceremony is found, in the book of Nehemiah, 9: 1-55. This then will be the first selection to be read. It is a prayerful remembrance of God's initia-tive in. forming and saving His people, a remembrance of His covenant, His love. After a short period for silent, prayerful reflection on the first reading, a selection from the New Testament is ÷ ÷ ÷ Thanksgiving Da~ Service VOLUME 20, 1961 399 Carl ]. P~ei]er, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS read. It indicates the continuation of God!s plan and its culmination in Christ. In Nehemiah the ritual renewal of the covenant-between Yahweh and His people is re-corded in which' the fundamental beliefs of Israel's reli-gion were proclaimed to the assembled nation. These same ideas are fundamental to our belief, for, as we saw, God's salvific plan continues into our era and culminates in Christ. What went before Christ was not accidental to God's plan, and hence, not accidental to our own reli-gious education and worship. Rather it was a preliminary stage, preparatory to the coming of the great High Priest and His priestly people. In Him all history finds its mean-ing. This is the substance of what is expressed in the second selection, taken from Paul's letter to the Ephe-sians. For what God did for His chosen people through Abra-ham, Moses, and the prophets, He continues now in a more perfect manner for us, the new Israel, through Christ. The Jews wer6 set apart by Yahweh, a chosen nation; we are adopted as His sons, made members of His eternal Son, temples of His Spirit. The Jews He led out of Egyptian slavery; He frees us from the power of Satan. The manna of old is replaced by "bread from heaven," and the vague prophecies of the Old Law have given away to the full revelation of the Word. And in-stead of a promised land "flowing with milk and honey," we look forward to-the eternal banquet, where "eye has not seen, nor ear heard . " Such is the great love of our Father in heaven for us His new people. "He would have all future ages see, in that clemency which he shewed us in Christ Jesus, the surpassing richness of his grace" (Eph 2:8). Song Filled with the realization of the goodness of our Father, of His love for us sinful creatures, we sing out in gratitude, making use of Hig own revealed words, Psalm 135. Joined together in a worshipping community we re-spond to His word, which has just taken vital form through 'its proclamation in our midst. We sing now, the new Israel, an ancient Jewish hymn of thanks. And as it recalls Yahweh'S great deeds for His ~oeople, we make the words our own, singing our thanks for His even more wonderful deeds toward us. Our song of gratitude is rooted in faith, faith in the Word we have just heard. This faith is our response to God's call and covenant; it, is our total, personal commitment to our Father, a total giving of self to God in return for His gifts. As with Abraham and the Israelites, this faith is the fundamental virtue of our Christian life. God calls, elects, chooses. To him whom He chooses, He freely offers His graces, eve~ ! Himself. Our response is faith, belief in what He says, but also belief in Him, personal dedication to Him, flow-ing over into gratitude, confidence and joy? Prayer Our gratitude now takes the form of prayer. We exer-cise our priestly role, proper to us who share the priest-hood of Christ by our baptism and confirmation. And we enumerate with gratitude the gifts of the new covenant. God's plan of salvation, begun in the Jewish nation, cli-maxing in the Incarnation and Redemption of Jesus Christ, continues on to us through the Mystical Christ, the Church. It is only by pertaining to this Body of Christ that the saving action of God reaches us through Christ our Lord. Through membership in the new people of God we are in personal contact with our Redeemer. His word is proclaimed in our midst, His grace is shared with us in our personal encounters with Him in His sacra-ments. Through our union with Him we are enabled to offer our Father a suitable thank-offering, the Mass. And through our ever increasing share in His life we have al-ready a ~beginning of that glory which awaits us with Him in heaven. And all of this, prefigured in Yahweh's rela-tionships with His chosen people, is a completely free gift of our Father. United, then, in one worshipping commu-nity, we offer our thanks to our Father in our united prayer. Finally, after a moment of silent prayer following our vocal prayer, the priest gathers up our grateful expres-sions and offers them to God for us. Christ's mediatorship is continued through His ordained priests. They stand between us and God, not as barriers, but as the normal means by which God comes to us and we reach up to God. Through the priest His Word is proclaimed and finds living reality; through the priest Christ allows us to come directly in contact with Him in the sacraments--a per-sonal encounter between us and our Savior. And through the priest Christ offers our prayers to the Father. Hence the service ends with the priest's prayer as our representa-tive. The particular prayer chosen dates from the year 215 A.D. and was composed by Hippolytus of Rome as a sample that migh~ be used in the first Mass of a newly consecrated bishop. It is one of the earliest extant formu-laries for the Prayer of Thanksgiving, or Eucharistic Prayer, now more commonly called the Canon of the Mass. The text has been somewhat adapted for use in this "bible vigil"; the words of consecration, for example have been omitted, as have other references to sacrifice. What remains is a beautiful prayer of thanksgiving for God's ~ For,a further treatment of faith as a personal response to God, see Jean Mouroux, I Believe (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1959). + 4- 4- Thanksgiving Day Se~vi~e VOLUME 20, 1961 401 Cad 1. Pleiler, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 402 redemptive work through the llfe, death, and resurrection of His Son, Christ Jesus, our Lord. Such, then, is the suggested biblical-liturgical service. Its structure leads to an appreciation of the meaning and purpose of public worship, while its content manifests an essential theme of Christian life an.d revelation. In 'this case, the theme is suited to Thanksgiving Day, Similar "bible vigils" can be worked out for almost any occasion and allow for much variety within the basic group plan of reading, song, prayer. For example, a homily may be preached after the reading(s). And although the Psalms~. are admirably suited to such services, any hymn that fits the theme may be substituted. The priestly prayers of the Mass (Collect, Secret, Preface, Postcommunion) are a rich source of acceptable prayers, as is the Raccolta. And the service may be concluded with Benediction or some other suitable rite. For example, a service constructed on the theme of Baptism might fittingly be concluded with blessing and sprinkling with holy water. So much for the explanation of the ser.vice. The text follows in full, with hymns added at the beginning: and end to round out the basic structure. If used in full, it should take about twenty minutes; verses of the Psalms may be omitted to reduce the time. ENTRANCE HYMN: [stand] Psalm 22" (All sing the antiphon after the cantor and after each verse): HIS GOODNESS SHALL FOLLOW ME ALWAYS, TO THE END OF MY DAYS. My shepherd is the Lord; there is nothing I shall want. FreSh and green are the pastures where he gives me repose. Near restful waters he leads me, to revive my drooping spirit. [Antiphon] He guides me along the right path; he is true to his name. If I should walk in the valley of darkness no evil would I fear. You are there with your Crook and your staff; with these you give me Comfort. [Antiphon] You have prepared a banquet for me in the sight of my foes. My head you have anointed" with oil; my cup is overflowing. [AntiPhon] OThe text of the three psalms used in the service is taken from Joseph Gelincau, S.J., Twenty-Four Psalms and a Canticle (Toledo: Gregorian Institute of America, 1955) with permission of the pub-lishers~ Surely goodness and kindness shall follow me all the, days of my life. In the Lord's own house shall' I dwell for ever and ever. [An[iphon] To the Father and Son give glory, give glory to the Spirit. To God who is, who was, ,:and who will be forever and ever. [Antiphon] ' ¯ GOD'S GIFTS IN PREPARATION: [sit] Nehemiah 9: 1-15, 32.' ~ '~ ¯ Then, ~n the twenty-fourth day of this same month~ the men of Israel met together, fasting, and with sack-cloth about them, and sprinkled with dust, ~nd the whole breed of Israel severed itself from all contact with alien, folk. :. This was the prayer offered by the Levi.tes . Up, friends, .and bless the Lord, your God, as blessed he musE be from the beginning to the end of timel.,Blessed be thy. glorious name, O Lords that is beyond all blessing, and all praise! Heaven is of thy fashioning, and the heaven o~ heavens, and all the hosts t.hat dw~ell there, earth and sea~, and all that earth and sea hold; to all these thou givest the life they have; none so high in heayen but must pay thee worship. It was thou,-Lord God, that didst make' choice of Abram, and beckon ~him away from Chaldea, from the City of Fire. And now~ thou. wouldst call~ him Abraham; a loyal servant thou. did~st find him, and didst make a covenant with him, promising that his race should inherit the lands of .Chanaanite and Hethite, Amorrhite and Pherezite, Jebusite, and Gergesite. That promise, in thy faithfulness, thou didst make good, Thou hadst an eye for the affliction our fathers suffered in Egypt, an ear for their cry of distress at the Red Sea; the pride~of Pharao and Pharao's court and all his people, had not passed unregarded; there were porte.nts, an£ cnarvels, and thy name won renown, as it has w~on renown this day: Thou didst part ~the,w~ters.at their coming, so that' they crossed the sea dry-shod, didst hurl their pursuers into the depths of it, so that they sank like a stone be-neath the rushing waves. Thou thyself didst lead thy people on their journey, hidden by day in a pillar of cloud, by night in a pillar of fire, to light the path they must tread. There, on mount Sinai, thou didst keep tryst with them; thy voice came from heaven to teach them thy just decrees, thy abiding law with all its observance.s, all its wholesome bidding. There thou didst reveal to them ~ From the Old Testament, volume i, in the translation of Mo~: ~ignor Ronald Knox, Copyright 1948, Sheed and Ward, Inc, New York. , ,, + Thanksgiving Day Service VOLUME'20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷" Carl 1. Ptei~er, $.], REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 404 how thy sabbath should be kept holy; law and observance and award thou, through Moses, didst hand down to them. When they were hungry, thou didst give them bread from heaven; when they were thirsty, thou didst bring water out of the rock; and for the goal of their journey didst beckon them on to take possession of this same land, which thou hadst sworn .to give them . To thee, then, we turn, who art our God, to thee, the great, the strong, the terrible God, who didst not forget thy covenant, or the mercy thou hast promised. A MOMENT OF SILENT PRAYER [kneel] GOD'S GIFTS IN FULFILLMENT: [sit] Ephesians 1:3-14; 2:4-10.8 Blessed be that God, that Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us, in Christ, with every spiritual blessing, higher than heaven itself. He has chosen us out, in Christ, before the foundation of the wbrld, to be saints, to be blameless in his sight, for love of him; mark-ing us out beforehand (so his will decreed) to be his adopted children through Jes~us Christ. Thus he would manifest the splendor of that ggace by which he has taken us into his favor in the person of his beloved Son. It is in him and through his blood' that we enjoy redemption, the forgiveness of our sins. So rich is God's grace, that has overflowed upon' us in a full stream of wisdom and~ discernment, to make known to us the hidden purpose of his will. It was his loving design, centered in Christ, to give history its fulfillment by resuming everything in him, all that is in heaven, all that is on earth, summed up in him. In him it was our 10t to be called, singleff out before-hand to suit his purpose, (for it is he who is at work every-where, carrying out the designs of his will); we were to manifest his glory, we who were the first to set our hope in Christ; in. him you too were called, when you listened to the preaching of the truth, that gospel which is your salvation. In him you too learned to believe, and had the seal set on your faith by the promised gift of the Holy Spirit; a pledge of the inheritance which is ours, tO re-deem it for us and to bring us into possession of it, and so manifest God's glory . How rich Godis in mercy, with what an excess of love he lok, ed usI Our sins had made dead men of us, and he, in'giving life to Christ, gave life to us too; it is his grace that has saved you; raised us up too, enthroned us too above the heavens, in Christ Jesus. He would have all future ages see, in that clemency which he shewed us in~ Chri'st Jesus, the surpassing richhess of his grace. Yes, it was grace that saved you, with faith for its instrumen.t; it s From the New Testament in the translation of Monsignor Ron-aid Knox, Copyright 1944, Sheed and Ward, Inc., New York. '/ did not come from yourselves, it wa~ God's gift, not from any action of yours, or there would be room for pride. No, we are his design; God has created us'-in Christ Jesus, pledged to 'such good actions as he has prepared befor~- hand, to be the employment of ~3ur lives. OUR GRATEFUL RESPONSE IN SONG: [stand] Psahn 135 (All sing the following refrain after each phrase of the cantor): FOR HIS' GREAT LOVE IS WITHOUT END O give thanks to the, Lord for he is go~d, FOR HIS GREAT LOVE IS WITHOUT END. Give thanks to the God of gods . Give thanks to the Lord ,of lords . Who alone has wrought marveilous works . whose wisdom it was made the skies,. who, spread the earth on :the seas, . It was he that made ~the great lights,. the sun to rule in the day . the moon and the stars in the night,. The first-born of the Egyptians he smote . brought Israel out from their midst . arm outstretched, with power in his hand . He divided the Red Sea in two . made Israel pass through the midst,. flung Pharaoh and his ~orce in the sea,. Through the desert his people he led . Nations in their greatness he struck . Kings in their splendour he slew . He let Israel inherit their land . On his servants their land he bestowed,. He remembered us in our distress . And he snatched us away from our foes,. He gives food to all living things . To the God of heaven give thanks . OUR GRATEFUL RESPONSE IN PRAYER: [kneel] ~lifford Howell, s.J.~ Priest: O Lord God, we thank you. People: ~O LORD GOD, WE THANK YOU. Pr: We thank you *°that our Lord Jesus Christ still lives on in His Church. ~ The text of the people's prayer is qubt¢d with pei'mission of the publisher from the leaflet by Clifford H6well, S.J., You are Christ's Body (St. Louis: Pio Decimo Press, 1949), p. 3. ÷ Thanksgiving DWy Service VOLUME 20, 1961 4o~. 4, 4, + Carl 1. P]eif~r," $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 406 Pe:,.WE THANK YOU * .,THAT THROUGH HIS CHURCH *' HE CONTINUES HIS ACTIV-ITIES AMONG MEN. Pr: We thank You * that when the C[aurch teaches * it is Christ who teaches. Pe: WE THANK YOU * THAT WHEN THE CHURCH SACRIFICES * IT IS CHRIST WHO SACRIFICES. Pri We thank You Christ ~vho doe~ all these things * through the Church, His Mystical Body. Pe: WE THANK YOU * THAT~WE HAVE BEEN MADE MEMBERS * OF THIS MYSTICAL BODY OF CHRIST. Pr: We thank You * that as members of this Body * we can worship You through Christ our Head * in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Pe: WE THANK YOU * THAT WE MAY OBTAIN ALL GRACES * FROM YOUR HOLY SACRA-MENTS. Pr: We thank You * that through Your Church we may attain to Eternal Life. Pe: O LORD GOD, WE THA.NK YOU~ * TO YOU BE PRAISE IN YOUR CHURCH * AND IN JESUS CHRIST * FOR EVER AND EVER. * AMEN. A MOMENT OF SILEN~ T PRAYER. OUR PRAYERFUL RESPONSE OFFERED TO GOD THROUGH THE PRIEST: [stand] Hippolytus oI Rome?° Priest: The Lord be with you. P~eople: AND WITH YOU ALSO. Priest: Lift up your':h~arts. People: WE HAVE. LIFTEI~ THEM UP TO THE LORD. Priest: Let us give thanks to the Lord. People: IT IS RIGHT AND JUST. Priest: We give thanks to You, O God, "through Your be-loved servant, Jesus Christ, whom You have sent dtoe eums eirn a tnhde smee lsassetn tgimere° so fto Y boeu or ucro usanvsieol.r Haned i sre- Your Word, inseparable from You; thrqugh Him You have made all things and in Him You are well pleased. You did send Him from heaven into, the womb of the Virgin; carried in her womb He was made flesh and was manifested as Your Son; being born of the Holy Ghost and,. of the Virgin. FulfilIing,your Will and acquiring for You a holyl people He stretched out His hands in suffering in~ lo The full text of this thanksgiving prayer can be found in J. A Jungmann, s.J., Public Worship (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1957j~] pp. 92-3.if' order that He might free from suffering those who believed in Him . He was handed over to volun-tary suffering to rob death of its power, to break the bonds of the devil, to tread hell underfoot, to give light to the just, to set up a boundary stone and an-nounce the resurrection . Remembering there-fore His death and resurrection., we thank You that You have considered us worthy to stand before You and to serve You. And we pray that You will send down the Holy Spirit on Your Church. Be-cause You gather all together in unity, we pray that You will grant the fulness of the Holy Spirit to all the saints., that their faith may be strengthened in truth, and that we may praise and glorify You through Your servant Jesus Christ, through whom honor and glory be unto You, O Father, with Your Son and the Holy Spirit in Your Holy Church both now and for ever and ever. People: AMEN. CONCLUDING HYMN: [stand] Psalm 99 (All sing the antiphon after the cantor and after each verse.): ALLELUIA, ALLELUIA, ALLELUIA Cry out with joy to the Lord, all the earth. Serve the Lord with gladness. Come before him, singing for joy. [Antiphon] Know that he, the Lord, is God. He made us, we belong to him, we are his people, the sheep Of his flock. [Antiphon] Go within his gates, giving thanks. Enter his courts with songs of praise. Give thanks to him and bless his name. [Antiphon] Indeed, how good is the Lord, eternal his merciful love; he is faithful from age to age. [Antiphon] Give glory to the Father AJmighty, to 'his Son, Jesus Christ, the Lord, to the Spirit who dwells in our heartsY [Antiphon] n For further information on "bible vigils" see "Organizing a Bible Vigil," by Kilian McDonnell, O.S.B., in Worship, February, 4. 1960, pp. 144-48 and the article by the present writer, "Popular 4. Devotions--a New Look!" to be published soon in Homiletic and Pastoral Review. Examples of such vigils can also be found in Wor-ship, January and March, 1959; March, 1960; January, 1961. Tiuml~giving Day Serv~e VOLUME 20, 1961~ 407 RICHARD M. MCKEON, S.J. ' Human Relations in Religion ÷ ÷ ÷ Richard M. McKeon, $.J., is the director of the Institute for In-dustrial Relations at Le Moyne College, Syracuse $, New York. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 408 The title of this article may seem strange to many. Cer-tainly a great deal has been written about the human factor as applied to the religious and the priestly life. But we wonder if there has ever been a systematic study of human relations in religion similar to the hundreds which are being made in the field of industry. Before me .is book, Human Relations in Management, numbering over 750 pages. Subject to correction, I doubt if there is a similar book concerning human relations in religious management. The following are some of the topics treated in the book: the human factor in industry, the philosophy management, conditions of effective leadership, motiva-tion and increased productivity, work group behavior, basic psychological factors in communication, the psy-chology of participation, dealing with resistance to change, empathy--management's greatest need. If great accent is being placed on human relations "as a systematic, develop-ing body of knowledge devoted to explaining the behavior of industrial man," should there not be a similar body knowledge based on the best findings of the behavioral sciences to explain the human relations factor.in religious and priests? The history of industrial relations shows how the human element was sorely neglected up to the start of the twenti-eth century. That was why in 1891 Leo XIII issued his famous encyclical letter On the Condition of the Working Class. Up to World War II there were some noted ad-vances in this field, as the Hawthorne Studies and the im-petus prompted by the passage of the National Labor Relations Act show. But from 1945 to the present the study and application of human relations in industry has been phenomenal. With these thoughts in mind I shall make comment on an article, "The Human Relations of a Foreman," pub-lished in the Monthly Letter of the Royal Bank of Canada for May, 1961. By applying some of the topics to the re-ligious and priestly life, the need for further exploration will be evident. "Why is the supply of men of supervisory capacity so thin?" Why have so many superiors in religion been lacking in the qualities which make for good administra-tion? Many answers will be given and I have listened to them for over forty years. Some will point out men who have been advanced with no worthwhile achievement behind them--merely because they were sources of no trouble. Is there also a chance that,administrative pro-motion in religion is connected with nepotism and cliques? It is true, of course, that the principles and rules of re-ligious life will sustain su~cient order in a community even under a poor administrator; the vow of obedience is the great foundation here. But in this article let us set aside the supernatural side and try to view human re-lations in the light of modern industry. Let us begin by remarking that just as a foreman in a factory needs "poise, wisdom, suppleness of mind, courage, and energy, besides the know-how of his technical special-ity," so also are these qualities to be hoped for in a su-perior. A superior is called upon to be an executive. Do the current methods of selecting a superior prove that he possesses executive talent for this or that particular position? Take, for instance, the priest who has charge of the ma-terial things in a seminary or a religious house where the teachers and students number one hundred or more, As far as shelter, food, and material services are concerned, such an institution is like a hotel. While custom, tradition, and discipline will keep things going, it is evident that such a priest would do a far better job if he had a course in hotel management. We all know the grand rush for our priests and religious to go on for higher studies in order that Catholic intellectual life be improved. This is to be commended. But is it not logical also to send those in charge of the ordinary living conditions of religious and priests to special studies to improve such conditions? Such training should result in better economical operation as well as in better living conditions. Have you ever tried to dry yourself with the moisture-proof towels found in certain communities? "Good human relations is people getting along well to-gether." It is not enough to rely on the religious or the priestly garb to command proper respect. Respect should b'e won by "intelligence, administrative competence, and the power to make men follow him~ because of personal attributes." All evidence of playing a policeman's role mnst be avoided. + + + Human Relations VO~-UME 20, 1961 409 4. o÷ R. M~ McKeon, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 410 Every religious and priest is a person; the superior must show a. sincere interest in each one; he must give him a sense of really belonging to the team--the institution under the superior's charge. The superior's chair must not be turned into a throne; around it there should be an atmosphere empty of fear but rich with sympathetic un-derstanding. "The best company to work for, and the company that gets the best work done, is the company with a strong company-group feeling." There are and will be divided religious communities; they are not pleasant places to live in.,How can such a situation be remedied? One answer is by superiors "who obtain the collaboration of people in their work-groups through loyalty and liking and coopera-tion." A superior will assign a subject a task; the subject will obey. But it is certain that the job will be better clone if the superior has excited enthusiasm, initiative, loyalty. "However.tall a man may stand in the hierarchy of management, he is not a successful executive unless he un-derstands the points of view and the problems of the rank and file of his workers." This statement is equally true of the religious superior. Unless his interest is sincere and sympathetic, subjects may do their work; but human na, ture being what it is, we wonder how good the work will be. ~A superior must prove himself superior; otherwise his authority is bound to suffer. It is necessary to strengthen that authority by personal performance and demonstrated ability, Good managers ask their workers for counsel and help. They know, that fine ideas are often buried in the mind waiting for the right tapping. The post-war growth of suggestion systems is proof that industry values the min'd of subordinates. It gives courteous hearing to such ideaS; it allows workers to take part in decisions. By such action workers feel that their jobs are important and that they share in responsibility. A few words abou~ discipline. In his own development, a manager should learn to obey. "But discipline is more than blind obedience. The word itself comes from ,the same root as the word 'disciple,' and a disciple is one who follows the teachings and the example of a respected leader." A good manager will have discipline because he is fair in the allotment of work and in the handling of grievances and because he inspires. He is not worried about "losing face" by appearing too human. In a crisis he will be forceful but friendly. The same things will be true of a good superior in reli-gion. Moreover, in his case there is the supreme examplel of Christ in His handling of His disciples to drive home many a lesson applicable to religious life. Christ con7 demned, sin; He had love and mercy for the sinner. "Probably foremost among the techniques of handling men is .the building of morale through praise and en-couragement. Commendation by a superior is of great consequence. It breeds loyalty and it inspires the worker to follow "through." Religious and priests are human and will remain so till their dying breath. Human nature likes encouragement especially when skies are dark. Religious and priests are also humble; when just praise from su-periors is lacking, they will console themselves by remem-bering the words of our Lord: ~'Even so you also, when you have done everything that was commanded you; say 'We are unprofitable,servants; we have done what it _was our du_ty to do.' " But praise justly won for doing one's duty weli means a. great deal in religious life. It does boost morale and it .strengthens self-confidence. It makes~a man willing to as-sume more difficult work. Moreover, when a superior gives credit to his community on the occasion of his in-stitution receiving public praise, he will build up initia-tive and a mutual sense of responsibility. I believe that the words of Peter F. Drucker, an. expert in management matters, should be applied to a religious superior. He writes: "Who is a manager can be defined only by a man's function and by the contribution he is expected to make. And the function which distinguishes the manager above all others is his educational one. The one contribution he is ~uniquely expected to make is'to give others vision and ability to perform:It is vision and moral responsibility that, in the last analysis, define the manager." In the previously mentioned textbook, Human R~la-tions in Management, over one hundred pages are de-voted to communication. I am willing to wager that no treatise on the religious life has a quarter amount of'this topic developed as it should be. If successful communica-tion is necessary for the functioning of industry, it should be equally, true for the religious life. Effective communication can build up a stronger com-munity spirit. How embarrassing it has been for religious and priests to be among lay people and hear, for ex-ample; that a new building will be built on the campus about which they have heard nothing. XVhen special work is assigned, it is,well for superiors to give the subject all information possible or refer him to one. who can help him. When information is passed through several superiors, measures should be'.taken to keep the original information intact. If the lower superiors are not able to explain clearly the.orders and policies of the "top brass," confusion will be more confounded among the rank and file. Communication is a two-way street. A good superior will listen to his subjects. Many have excellent brains + ÷ + Human Relations VOLUM.E 20, 196,1 ÷ ÷ 4. R. M. McKe~n~ $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 412 and are trained in special fields. To pose as all-knowing and not to recognize the interest and contribution of such subjects for the common good is a fatal error. As.I was writing this article, the new president of the college called a special meeting of the community to in-form them about plans for three proposed buildings and for the future development of the entire campus. Three members of the architect's firm spent over two hours ex-plaining intimate aspects of the plans and answering ques-tions. Then followed an informal discussion for another h6ur. As a result, the entire community has a greater in-terest. The president said very little outside of thanking the architects; but he was responsible for this excellent,job of communication. "Sound administration is the sum total of mature imagination, mature perception, mature judgment, and mature humanism." It is well to remember that maturity is not a matter of years of service but of mental develop-ment. It calls for self-discipline manifested by regularity in work habits, exactness in execution, and alertness; More-over "healthy self-criticism and continued willingness to learn are among the important attributes of the foreman" --and likewise for the religious superior. One purpose of this article is to call attention to the great number of books and magazines dealing with the human aspects of industry. In them will be found a wealth of material which can be applied to the religious and priestly life. It is also true that we of the Church, if prop-erly trained, can give to industry the constructive princi-ples of our Christian heritage: the Sermon on the Mount, for example; can be developed into a powerful treatise in industrial relations. What holds for leadership in industry is also true in religion. "Leadership means to initiate, to instruct, to guide, to take responsibility, to be out in front . The joy of leadership and the thrill of being in charge of a group of people does not consist in doing a terrific iob yourself, but in spending your last ounce of energy and encouragement to see the group crack through to success." There have been magnificent leaders in the priesthood and religious life as history testifies. But certainly the Church would make better progress in these critical times if our leaders were well vbrsed in human relations within their respective groups. If the development of human nature studies in industry can be of help to the Church, let us be humble and sincere in translating the best things into the priestly and religious life. SISTER MARTHA MARY, c.s.J. The, Wisdom of Praise Why is p?aise such a welcome sound in our ears? Is it be- Cause we are so egotistic or is it rather that we, as social beings, have such a deep need for the approval of others? St. Thomas remarks that dependence on others is typical of the rational creature. Security in the companionship of our family and associates is our first and most enduring need as a human being. No amount of food, entertain-ment, or suhshine will take th~ place of this ingredient of life. Every li¢ing person needs to know that he is loved and appreciated; and if such recognition is not forthcoming, life loses much of its meaning. He feels that he is'maimed in some interior and frightening way, for deep in his heart everyone agrees with the poet's words: "No man is an is-land." It is interesting to note that our Lord praised people without any hesitation. He praised the widow for her in-significant contribution in the, temple, Mary Magdalene for loving much, the centurion for his faith. What glow-ing words He had for St. John the Baptist, a supposed rivalI1 Sometimes He made these remarks in the presence of the person praised; sometimes not. What is important is that we know our Lord did communicate to others who were with Him the conviction that He appreciated them. He did it by words of praise in many recorded instances. True, He warned against flattery, but that was something quite different, the antithesis of praise--false praise. Jesus Christ was always the enemy of hyp.ocrisy; He was always on the side of truth because He is truth. The qnly true praise is truth. Thus flattery is ruled out from the start. How could it have any meaning when it has no basis in truth? Praise is based on real accomplishment or at least the capacity for ~ Lk 21 : 2-4; 7 : 44--~0; 7 : 9; 7 : 26-28. Sister Martha Mary, C.S.J., teaches religion and English at St. Jos-eph Academy, 1015 South Monroe Avenue, Green Bay; ,Wisconsin. VOLUME 20, 1961 41.~ 4. 4. Sister Martha Mar~ REVIEW ~:OR RELIGIOUS 414 this achievement; flattery is an appeal to another's vanity. Praise flows from principle; flattery comes from policy. Praise is genuine; flattery, is counterfeit. Yet, just as no one rejects all currency because he knows that counterfeit money is in circulation,, so no one would wisely reject all praise simply because flattery does exist. Praise is a great goo~ because it is the straightforward recognition of the cooperation of another with the grace of God. Every worthwhile deed a person accomplishes is brought to fruition under the grace of God without whom no one can do the ~lightest thing. This awareness of the good in others is made tangible by words of praise and by the pleasant relationship which these words set up. Praise be-comes the externalization of the empathy within the heart. It is a combination of joy, gladness, and great-heartedness. It is the visible expression of love and admiration. It is the positive keeping of the eighth commandment which is so closely connected with the great commandment. The Christian is so busy bearing true, glowing, enthusiastic witness to the neighbor that he chnnot bear false witness. To praise, then, is to be virtuous. But is praise not t~o be considered_ dangerous to hu-mility? Will it not be aft inducement to pride? Will it not draw us away from God and focus our attention on self? St. Thomas allays our fears on this point. He says that praise can be a very good thing, and this for several rea-sons. Rightfulpraise is iri reality the praise of God through whose power the good ~eeds have been performed. Sec-ondly, the praise of good may stimulate others to emulate these good acts. Finally, prhise is a means by which one can come to recognize good qualities in himself, the talents which God has entrusted to him. Once recognized, these talents can be developed and the person possessing them can thank God in all humility for the many gifts he has received. How could he be grateful if he did not know what God had given? Awareness brings gratitude. In these words, St. Thomas points out that praise is a means to an end; it i's not to be sought as an end in itself.2 God is the end, but praise is a very powerful stimulant to approach Him more quickly. The theological viewpoint receives strong support from psychologists who agree that vanity, conceit and other un-desirable qu.aliti~s flourish widely where recognitiofi is not given, for they serve as modes of self-defense when a per-son's sense of personal worth is or is thought .to be under attack. Humility flourishes best in an atmosphere of loving approval, and the normal means for making known this approval is praise. Regarding this, Sister Annette spoke at some length to religious superiors at the 1959 Institute of Spirituality: ¯ Summa theologiae, 1-2, q. 132, a. 2. All that you have to do to demonstrate that there really is no incompatibility between humility and a sense of personal' worth is to work very hard and consistently for a while at giv-ing your Sisters a sense of personal worth. Show your appreci-ation, of ~hat they are. doifig. Give. them praise whenever, p.os-s~ ble . And you will see more evidences of genuine humility than you did before this principle of psychology was applied so assiduously in your hguse. You see, it is the secure S~ster, the Sister who feels that she counts for something with her superior and with her community, who can afford to be humble. She is not continually being called upon to defend herself . A sense of p.ersonal worth is not only ~ao detriment to the virtue of hu-mility but it is also a natural help to. the .acquisition of humility.8 Father Nuttin notes that individual, actions tend to be repeated in .proportion to the success achieved: ~Experimental data about the way human personality de-velops from past experience show that normal forms of be-havi'our and the dyndmic forces which lie behind them, tend,to develop according to the success achieved; that is to say, forms of behaviour which lead to a satisfactory result are maintained by theoorganism, whilst the kinds of behaviour~ that end in fail-ure or a comparatively unsatisfactory result are increasingly eliminated.' If such is the case, ignoring good actiom, or worse yet, condemning them, may be a p6sitive deterrent to the praiseworthy development of another; Whether we wish to be or not, we constitute someone else's env~ironment. Now the question can be asked: Who should praise? Theologians and psychologists agr~ee that"~ tO produce its most desirable effects, praise must be given'by those who matter to us. Father Lord, in perhaps his greatest pamph-let, In Praise of Praise, comments thus: I should be quick to praise and eager to approve those who are connected with me by blood and kinship. The nearer the re-lati. onship, the more spontaneous and generous should-be my praise. I should gladly praise those who in the slightest .way depend on me. Their dependence extends to a real need for a state-ment that I like them and their work. I should be quick to notice and point out the good work of associates. Assoctation can easily turn out to be less the'occasion for friendship than for rivalry. That is tragic. Men and women thrive under the approval of those who work at their side. I am wise if I.praise those who are or could be my rivals. I may be sure the praise given to them is not stolen from me. Indeed, if I were to play a calculating and selfish game, I can remember that when I praise a rival and speak well of work that parallels my own, I am displaying my own generosity of soul.8 ~ Sister Mary Annette, C.S.J., "Environmental Factors Conditioning Personal Development," in Proceedings oI the 1959 Sisters' Institute o] Spirituality, edited by Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C. (Notre Dame: Uni-versity of Notre Dame Press, 1960); pp. 105-06. ¯ ' Joseph Nuttin, Psychoanalysis and Personality (New.York: Sheed and Ward, 1953), p. 185. ~ Daniel A Lord, S.J., In Praise o[ Praise (St.Louis: Queen's Work, 1953), pp. 47-8. + ÷ + VOLUME "20, 1961 415 $ist~ Ma~tha Ma~y REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 416 It is a known fact that many persons in the United States, even religious, go to 'a psychiatrist to have selbconfidence restored. How has it been lost? Might not a steady diet of apreciation have helped to prevent such personality starv-ation? The duty to praise is far'reaching indeed. It includes family, superiors, associates, everyone--in varying degrees. But for those in a pgsition of authority, the duty is more pressing because the results are more telling. What about religious superiors? Where praise exists, there is a smooth-running, happy community. Where recognition is never given, the virtue of the subjects is tested to the extremes; duty is made very difficult. A much-lo~ed superior general used to say to her subjects: "Do this, Sister dear, with the grace of God and your own smartness." She made her subjects feel that the cooperation they gave to God was tremendous and that they were great persons. They left her presence feeling that they could conquer the world for Christ. Deep in their hearts they felt, too, that perhaps their cooperation had been somewhat defective in the past, but that such a thing would never happen again. Such attitude of mind is healthy. Just the opposite is the de-flation felt when one has been told how inconsequential" one,s achievements and capabilities are. There is no to de better, just a dead feeling that one's clay feet match the rest of one's anatomy. There is always', the danger too, that since religious regard superiors the special representatives of God in their lives, unguarded and thoughtless remarks may be taken very seriously. The commitment of a religious demands excellence performance because what is done for Christ should be' perfection itself. However, a superior who takes the ex-cellent performance of her subjects for granted, does not establish a happy community feeling. The mere fact she provides a well-balanced diet for them, comfortable sleeping quarters, and the proper medicine for them when~ they are sick, does not compensate for a lack of confidence' and trust. Sisters value such comments as: "You did that well, Sister"; "I heard Dr~ Jones comment on your "The talk you gave at assembly was splendid"; "That apple pie tasted just like my mother's." When~ such remarks are made, the small talk of religious becomes, big talk because it makes each member feel that she is necessary person in her religious family, Does this mean that the praise must be all on the side the superior? Should the subject praise the superior? Ob-viously, since praise which is true praise is merely aspect of 19ve, the subject ought to show her appreciationl! for her superior. Too often this manifestation of regard classified as "polishing the apple" or "getting a stand-Yet, in religious communities no one ever aoes anyt alone. Subjects must back their superiors, not just from a sense of duty but in a happy manifestation of esprit de corps. This is best done when appreciation is shown on both sides; therefore, subjects ought not to fear to tell their superiors that a job has beefi well done, that they ap-preciate kindnesses. On the whole, superiors receive less praise than they should. They need kind words to counter-balance the worry and responsibility they have to shoulder. Superiors do a better job when they feel the warmth of subjects' love and admiration. When is the best time to praise a person? Obviously there is no pat answer for this; still it seems that praise should be given as soon as possible after achievement as it is a powerful tonic for relieving the fatigue concomitant with difficult work. It should be given, also in the tedium of steady progress toward distant goals, and it should be given at the moment of failure when discouragement may overwhelm one. In fact, there is no time unsuitable for praise; yet, it is of least value when it is prefaced by un-kind remarks simply because there is little likelihood that it will be believed. Praise, then, we may conclude, is a powerful incentive to virtue when it comes from one who matters to us, when it concerns a good action in an aspect of life which is im-portant to us, and when it is rightly timed. Praise is pre-cious and abundantly at hand. Then why is there so little of it in circulation? Observation will furnish the answer. Praise cannot thrive where there is selfishness, thoughtless-ness, and jealousy, It does not spring from misinterpreted moral principles. Praise is choked in the worldliness of our product-conscious age. All our superlatives have been cheapened in advertisements of such things as cars, beer, patent medicine, soap, and toothpaste. The people who invented these things have usually never been heard of. It seems that only diseases are named for their discoverers. Since the product has taken precedence over the person, we praise the product and ignore the person who devised it. This subtle and damaging form of worldliness can not only creep into religious communities but even thrive un-der the protection of ill-applied moral principles. The extent of the damage which results is almost impossible to gauge. This is true because very few people in the world have enough self-confidence to compensate for not receiving it from others. In our age, most people, rather than tending to pride, seem to be on the opposite side. They tend to be too afraid, infantile, immature, or in a Thomistic sense, pusillanimous. We are more like the man in the parable of the talents who buried his one talent. It is an odd, Jansenistic notion, I suppose, that makes many of us afraid to encourage others for fear we will make them ÷ ÷ Prate VOLUME 201 1961 proud. This is least likely to happen in our age. Rather we seem to need true encouragement to help us along the way.~ The need that is most basic,to our spirit is the need to be loved. We cannot live normally without it, It is being loved by others that gives us our sense of personal worth. Why should we hesitate to let this love shine through our words? Granted that praise does good to others. Does it help the one who bestows it? Yes. Praise dilates the heart. It fills us with love. It makes us outgoing. It makes us want to live life, not just to undergo it. Hearts that sing with praise are far removed from the dry rot of egotism. St. Thomas in explaining why God demands our praise and worship for Himself, underlines the fact that we are the ones who are benefited~ not God. Praise opens us up to God so that we can make contact with the divine. An analogous thing happens when we praise our neighbor. We praise God when we praise what He has made. Thus true praise finds its beginning in the worship of God. °Charles A. Curran, "Some Basic Factors in the Formation of Feminine Character and Spirituality," in Proceedings o! the 1959 Sisters" Institute o[ Spirituality, edited by Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C. (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1960), pp. 59-60. 4- Sister Martha Mary REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 418 FATHER AIDAN, C.P. The Examination of Conscience Cemeteries are not, I suppose, places to which we would willingly go to 'pass our time. It is true that the grave-zligger in Hamlet sang at his grave-making, but theh 'custom hath made it in hima property of easiness"; less frequent visitors find light-heartedness the least of their emotions. If the churchyard is well=kept, colorful, and dive with flowers; the contrast between what it looks like ~nd what it serves' as is themore marked; if on the other ,Land it is neglected and untended, theatmosphere of g'en;., eral mournfulness and melancholy befitting the place is dl the more enhanced. No doubt Gray's "Elegy" has done .nuch to contribute to this association of ideas, but the ,~ensive sadness he found in his churchyard is a feeling =ommon to nearly all. I wonder whether a religious about to make his examen ¯ f conscience ever finds himself oppressed by much the ame sensation. Here we are---daily invited to 'attend and :arefully inspect the tombs of our buried ~hopes, our luickly perished good resolutions, our infant virtues; to emember carefully all the ills and diseases that did them o swiftly to death, and thereby to guard more effectively ,gainst the future attacks which we know to be inevitable. 1~o return again and again to the scede of so many defeats, o behold repeatedly evidences of such .feeble efforts--it an be a depressing pilgrimage, so depressing that th6 de- ,otion essential to any pilgrimage quickly evaporates,and ve fall into a routine performance of a task which ought o be, must be, fulfilled: And: tlien, perhaps, our resolutions, like everything me-hanical, begin to wear down. We become less convinced ,f the utility of the practice;, after all, we know ourselves ~retty welt by flow, so wliavis the point of this cons'~ant elf-analysis? Our duties keep us busy, our day is a full ohm, ,nlooked-for circumstances rob us of our precioffs~ mo-aenis; they surely can not be squandered on so profitless ÷ ÷ ÷ Father Aidan, C.P., teaches English at. St. Gabriel's College, Blythe Hall, Orraskirk, Lancs., England. VOLUME 20, 1961 419 Father Aidan, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 420 and dispiriting an employment. It can well be treated more cursorily, shortened, even omitted altogether. We are amazed to read what great store has been set on the examen by spiritual writers-~quite reputable ones, too~ and we can only feel that they are given to pious exaggera-tion. Yet for all our specious reasoning, the examen is an es-sential feature in our spiritual life, Perhaps it is not merely our practice of it, but our attitude towards it that stands in need of re-orientation. Perhaps we should remember more firmly that it represents not a solo effort with our-selves as judge and jury, plaintiff and defendant, but a joint partnership between ourselves and Christ. After all, the dead we mourn in our own little cemetery were also once His. He is concerned about all those abortive efforts, those frustrated failures, those sadly neglected promises. The sorry wreckage we contemplate so ruefully is not merely the ruin of our own hopes; it is also the thwarting of His loving desires for us. If we remember His presence,~ His concern in what we do, then perhaps we shall not find it too heart-breaking or too strength-sapping a task. When we look out of a window at a view beyond, we, are really lo~king at two things. We see the window itself,I and through it we see the landscape. Our gaze, it is true,,, is focused on the view, and we are aware of the windowl only secondarily, in a vague sort of way. Further, the more magnificent and appealing the view, the less conscious we are ot~ the intervening glass. There is a certain analogy here with our examen. Our souls should be like clear glass, through Which can be seen the magnificent spectacle of God. Too often, however, that unclouded pane becomes speckled and spotted with dust and dirt, so that it steadily grows opaque. It is to removing the source of that dirt that our examen is directed, so that~ we may look beyond to the splendor of divine brightness, Obviously, to clean merely for the sake of cleaning, like a fussy house-proud housewife, is a soulless occupation. The window is cleaned so that it may be seen through-~ that the beholder may gaze in full enjoyment at the beauty beyond. And when we are once convinced that the view is really worth looking at, surely we labor more eagerly at the window cleaning. In other words, when we attend to keeping clean the window of our soul, we must have our gaze steadily focused on the sight of our Divine Lord beyond. We should not rest in a sterile contemplation of our own limitations-- that way lies discouragement--but should compare them, at once with the unlimited virtues in the Sacred Heart Of Christ. He can, and He will, help us to remove those limitations, if we sincerely will to allow Him to do it. The sincere will to let Him have His way--perhaps i.t, ~as been the lack of this that has made our examens in the past so tedious, so disheartening, so~ fruitless. So easy to allow a gush of self-pity to drown the good resolution; so easy to stand idle, paralyzed with dismay, at the revela-tion of our utter weakness; so e~igy to forget our Divine Partner in the examen, that "combined. operation" that is nothing less than the accomplishment, together with Him, af the redemption He has died to bring, us. This should be remembered even if our examen ,has lacked more than sincere good will, and has been only a perfunctory formality--a mere lip-service without any ,eart-searching.: A few pet imperfections hurriedly re-clewed, their number estimated vaguely if at all, some nechanical acts~of sorrbw and petition, and we rise hastily _o get on with the real business of the dayRsomething for which we can see some positiveresult and tangibl~.fruit Of :ffort. Never a substitute for sincerity; formality has, llere ~. fossilizing effect; every subsequent examen only serves _o add a further stratum in the soul and renders future ~clamation more and more remote. Yet if with us works Dne for whom no obstacle exists, save only in our own tardened wills, we can not doubt the outcome. ~ There can be no excuse of "parvity of matter"~in our .elf-analysis. We are never likely to run short of raw ma, erial.'Our vows, our duties, the virtues we should practice, ,ur attitude to and our contacts with our neighbor--all ,r0vide us with food enough for reflection, and after re, iection, action. If it seems otherwise, then we know with ertainty that we are deceiving ourselves. Five loaves and wo fishes seemed at first a scanty meal for a few men; yet, _~lessed by our Divine Lord, they provided ample nourish- ,-tent for five thousand--and still there were left twelve ~askets of fragments. If we complacently survey our soul :nd can see little therein to engage our attention for long, ;'e need the blessing of Christ upon our efforts to detect ,ur infidelities; then we shall be kept busy indeed. Our poverty, for instance--what can we check on there? .~o great breach, perhaps, but are there no ,lesser infideli-ies? A practical distrust of Providence, for example; else ;,hy do we so often hoard up so much for such~remote ontingencies? How about our spirit of detachment? Why 11 those knick-knacks and bric-a-brac that so drearily ollect the dust in our rooms? They would be at home no loubt in a drawing room, but in a religious cell?. "But, ,f course, I should willingly give them up if the superior sked me for them." And how likely is that? Superiors rave surely more sense than to ask their subjects for lbums-of photographs, tawdry little souvenirs, showy ittle gewgaws, or even that battered copy of the New I'estament, guarded so jealously since profession day-- or its sentimental value only. VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~ Or, as superiors, have we put purposes before persons; The purpose we have in mind, that is, before the .persons we should have in mind, those under us whom we are responsible to bring closer to Christ. Have we neglected to give them what we might have done well to give them, with the excuse that necessary retrenchments must be made in order to meet the expenses of some pet project of ours? Has there been an over-cautious pruning of certain preliminary expenses, which in the long run will impair the success of the complete scheme as a whole? We must be poor after the manner of Christ. The key: note of His way of living was simplicity. He did not create artificial needs; He did not hanker after what conduced' merely to comfort. He 'accepted what was given, when it was .given, and did not repine; He slept how, when, and Where He could, and was content; born in another man',, stable, He was buried in another man's tomb. All through His life, His indifference about means shines out: "Do no~ fret~ over your life"; "Be not solicitous, therefore.,' He showed practically His self-aband0nment to the provi: dential.care of His heavenly Father. Analysis of our practice of obedience is another useful mine of self-information. Perhaps our faith here has bei come imperceptibly weaker over the years; we are more conscious of the ,human limitations of the superior ~than we are of the fact that he represents Christ for us. (Yet suppose our Lord had seen the cross merely as a painful instrument of an ignominious death?) Would we not go freely and willingly to Christ to discuss our ideas, plans, suggestions-not trying to catch Him at an off-moment of distraction or when we know He is in a "good mood;!' or when we have paved the way for a successful issue b careless hints? Would we not abide by His decision, after discussion, He gave judgment against our petition~ so obviously to us the best for all concerned? If He were to order us tosome employment which we felt would only expose us to almost certain failure, with all its consequem mortification, we would surely not ~'twist and turn frenzied efforts at evasion. He needs our efforts to do Hi., work about as much :as the sun needs a candle to light thb world; but He does look 'for our good will. Or as superiors, remembering that the sole purpose ot the authority we hold from Christ is to bring those ~ndel us nearer to Him, have we really tried to understand sym pathetically the capabilities and limitations of those dis ciples of His? "Splendid isolation, may be all very well a~ a political slogan; it should be far from the mind of superior. The crown of thorns round the brow is probab!: inevitable; but no prickly thickets round the heart shouR render access difficult and even impossible. Man is, cording to Shakespeare, "dressed in a little brief autho~l ity," and should not play "such fantastic :tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep:" The donkey that bore our Lord into Jerusalem had his moment of triumph, felt the garments under his feet, saw the palm branches being waved as he passed, heard the hosannas and shouts of joy; but he would have been an ass indeed to assume that it was for him that the people were rejoicing. The manner in which we obey provides a wide field for examination. "Prompt, blind, and cheerful" is cer-tainly a high enough ideal. We need to ~be on our guard against any "delaying tactics" ("He may think better of it in a day or so") and against any disinclination to carry out what our own intelligence does not dommend. And if the Lord loves a cheerful giver, how much more is He pleased by. a hearty, willing obedience? Yet~how much disobedi-ence may be dignified by the name of manly self-assertion; and how often may pusillanimity usurp, the title of obedi-ence? We must obey as Christ obeyed. Had He not been obedient "unto death, even the death of the cross," we should not have been redeemed at all. He saw the will of His Father in everything that" befell Him, and "the things that are pleasing to Him.I' do always." Authority, even when vested in unworthy holders of office, whether malicious like Caiphas or weak like Pilate, always re-ceived from Him its due recognition, without servility or consideration of human motives. He knew that even such as these "would have no authority, unless it were given from above"; and since from above it.had been given, He submitted to itowith obedience and dignity. Yet even He, Son of God as He was, had to "learn obedience by the things He suffered." ¯ Our third vow, chastity, is perl~aps, best considered under its~ aspect of love, since serious failure here will not require examination, being self-evident. It is possible to allow our very pursuit of purity to blind us to its wider implications. If we. do not find in ourselves anything con-trary to our vow, we should thank God: "I could not other-wise be continent, except God gave. it." Yet are we in-tolerant and censorious of the peccadilloes of others? The "heart of iron for chastity" must not preclude the "heart of flesh for charity"; for "chastity-without charity shall be chained in hell." A mortal sin again~st charity.will kill the soul no less effectively than a mortal sin against chas-tity. Purity means that we long to love only God and for His sake all others. If self-complacent purity should lead to bitter, wounding remarks and unkind lack of considera-tion, we are completely missing the end of the sacrifice entailed by the vow; we might well ask: "To what purpose was this waste?" Again, it is surely only an incomplete view to confine ÷ ÷, ÷ Ex~mi~tlon o Comci~nce VOLUME 20, 1961 423 ÷ ÷ ÷ our warfare against "the flesh" to sexual temptations alone, Perhaps we may not indeed have offended here; but if faith wanes dim, and love waxes cold, there is the danger of the law of compensation creeping upon us unawares. We may tend to grow self-indulgent in smaller matters: to prolong our sleep unnecessarily, to be fussy over what we have to eat and drink, to be fastidious and finical about what we are given to wear, to show a marked disinclina-tion for work that is boring, disturbs our ease, or does not suit us. Purity should not preoccupy us so much that freedom from its grosser infringements blinds us,to the necessity of mortifying our senses--also "the flesh"--our taste, touch, ease, vanity. Nor should our natural propensity for friendship lead us to exclusiveness or to the loss of the spirit of prayer. Our human affections must not be put down, but put straight; they must not be kept under, but kept under con-trol. Controlled affection can be made to serve Christ's purposes; uncontrolled, our inclinations court disaster. What of Christ? His love was not jealous, mean, or petty; but magnanimous, and universal in its sweep. He did not shrink from self-denial in showing His love; He did not fear running the risk of others failing Him, as others did, like Judas,, Pilate, and the unknown "rich young man." All-embracing in its scope (although He too had His "special friends": John, Martha, Mary), His love went out to beggar and well-to-do, Pharisee and publican, virtuous and vicious. He showed no antipathy, no con-tempt towards any one of His creatures; there was nothing forced or spurious about His love, which was the perfect flowering of the all-holy purity of the Man-God. Our examen is, after all, the mirror we hold up to na-ture; a poor weak human nature,.no doubt, but one that all the more on that.account needs the mirror to reflect faithfully all its deficiencies. If we undertake this work more sincerely, more generously, in partnership with Christ, perhaps we shall find what we thought to be stumbling-blocks transformed by Him into ~stepping stones. Our examen will no longer have the dismal charac-ter of a solitary.visit to a desolate cemetery, but the hopeful quality of a pilgrimage with a Friend eager to help us. We may still discover dry bones aplenty on the face of the plain, but if faithfully we do our part, even of them also it may be said "I will give you spirit and you shall live." ~ Father A/dan, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS MARTIN A. STILLMOCK; C.SS.R. Two Century Masterpiece "Of all my spiritual works, I should call this' one the best." These are the words spoken by St. Alphdnsus Maria de Ligouri on July 24, 1760, about his book, The True S~ouse ol Jesus Christ. When we consider that of the ope hundred eleven books and pamphlets written by the saint sixty-four ar6 ascetical works, this statement commands attention. The book in question could hardly be given higher praise. To understand why St. Alphonstis made this' remarl~- able utterance, it will' be well to consider the background of this book. As a founder of a religi6us congregation of missionary priests, as a popular and skilled retreat ~aster, and later as a bishop, St. Alpho. nsus was deeply concerned that llis priests and all priests should be learned and holy. To help priests in the field of learning he wrote his famous Mm:al Theology. To help prie,sts in their spiritual life he wrote his well known Selva which treats of the dignity and duties of the priest. All Christians know that there is no salvation for the world except through Jesus Christ. Now the ordinary channel of the world's salvation is the priesthood whic.h Christ instituted. Hence it was that Alphonsus loved so much to preach to priests and seminarians. And hence also it was that he wrote for them. He knew that the sanctification of one priest could mean the saving of thousands of souls that perhaps otherwise would not be saved. Alphonsus know he could put weapons into the hands of priests: weapons of theological learning, sermon material, ~naterial for retreats, missions, novenas. He could give them food for spiritual thought by combing spiritual writers, especially the fathers of the Church, and presenting their writings and ideas in a popular and interesting way. He could point out to priests the road to sanctity and the ways and means to attain holiness. All these weapons as well as many more St. Alphonsus, following Catholic tra-dition, put into the hands of pastors and missionaries for converting the world to Jesus Christ. But to insure success, he thought it necessary to supplement these weapons by Martin A. Stillmock, C.Ss:R., is engaged in parish work at St. A1- phonsus Church, 1118 North Grand Boule-vard, St. Louis 6, Mis-souri. ~OLUME 20, 1961 425 ÷ M. A. Stillmock, C.$s.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the prayers of all those who are consecrated to God by religious profession: In every day and age it has been difficult for people to understand the n~cessity and value of the contem-plative life. To mauy it seems a pious waste of time. The problem is that many of these people understand little or nothing of the communion of saints, even though they may believe in it as they profess in the Apostles' Creed. Consequently, they do not understand or even -begin to realize the value of intercessory prayer or suppli-cation. Why God created such an institution as the cloister and why He calls religious to lead lives of penance and pr.ayer is beyond them. But the saints understand the value of these" things; and Alphonsus, from long experience in working for the most. abandoned souls, realized fully how much priests and missionaries need the help of prayers for success in their priestly and missionary work. Whenever Alphonsus had a difficult mission before him, or when he knew strong resistance would be forthcoming from the great enemy of souls, he recommended himself to the prayers of ~:eligious who spend their lives in the presence of God. Alphonsus himself had founded an order of contem-pla'tive nuns, the Redemptoristines. For him they were the second branch of his apostolic congregation, the Redemptorists, While the missionaries were on the front battling [or souls whd were often deep in the clutches of the devil, these nuns raised their minds to "heave/i, like Moses on the mountain, and by 'their prayers and pen-ances obtained the victory. . It was thoughts such as these which impelled A1- phonsus to write The True'Spouse of Jesus Christ. In the volume he says to the religious souls for whom he is writing: You should be :useful to all, especially by yqur prayers. A!l the spouses of our Lord should be zealous for His honor. He Himself said to St. Teresa: "Now that you are My spouse, you must work with zeal for My glory." Indeed, if the souls so ~logely united to Jesus do not take His interests to heart, who will do so? Our Lord has promised to hear anyone who prays to Him. In your prayers, then, at your communions, during the visit to the Blessed Sacrament, recommend to God all poor sinners, infidels, heretics~ and those Who live without God. And Alphonsus goes.on to say: Our Lord Himself asks this of His. special servants. He said to a venerable nun one day: "Help me by your prayers to save souls"; and to St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi: "See, My daughter, how Christians are in the hands of the evil onel If My elect did not deliver them by their prayers, they would become the prey of that monster." This prompted the counsel which she gave to her religious: "My dear sisters, God has withdrawn, us from the world to save our own' souls, of course, but also that we may satisfy His mercy by interceding for sinners. We shall have to account for the loss of many souls if we neglect to recommend them to God." For this reason she never let an hour of the day go by without prayir[g /0r sinners. Another servant of our Lord did penance for forty years and applied it all to the salvation of souls in need of divine grace. Oh, how many sinners there are who owe their conversion not so much to the sermon of the preacher as to the prayers of some holy re-ligiousl It was revealed to a celebrated orator that the conversions apparently worked by him were not attributable to his elo-quence but to the prayers of the lay brother who sat at th~ foot of the pulpit. Pray then for sinners, and pray also for priests that they may work with true zeal for the salvation of souls. But if religious are to be powerful intercessors with our Lord, it can be only on condition that they be His true spouses. Therefore, just as he did for priests, A1- phonsus treats at length of the duties of religious women. While reading this book, weshould keep in mind that in the eighteenth century many abuses had crept into the cloister. The spirit-of the times breathed laxity, tepidity, and worldliness. A1phonsus was not one to use half meas-ures, and in many instances his language is strong. But his one big purpose is to preach holiness. He does this by pointing out what virtues should be specially practiced, and he prescribes, the means for wiping qut abuses. It may be thought that St. Alphonsus wrote Thk True Spouse solely for cloistered or contemplative nuns. He certainly had° thegn in :mind, but not exclusively. In his preface the saint himself tells us: This work, as appe.ars from the title, is intended particularly for nuns. However, only a small part of it is directed exclusively to them; the remainder, but especially what regards the ob-servance of the vows of religion, regular discipline, and the per-fection of the religious state, is equally suitedto religious of all congregations; and what regards the Christian virtues will be found highly useful even for seculars. What is to be found in The True Spouse? Practically every facet of the spiritual life is treated, The saint starts off his work by treating of the merits of virgins who have consecrated themselves to God. He goes on to state the advantages of the religious state and how religious should belong wholly to God. He speaks of the desire religious should have for perfection and then warns that imper-fect religious are exposed tb danger. The necessity of combating self love is treated. After treating of interior mortifications, the saint goes on to speak of exterior mortification of the appetite, of the senses of hearing and touch, and of the eyes. The book also contains a long treatise on poverty, its perfection, its degrees and practice, the detachment it involves from relatives and other persons. Closely allied to poverty is humility; the saint here discusses its ad-wmtages, the nature of humility of the intellect, heart, and will, and patience in bearifig contempt. ÷ ÷ ÷ Two Century Masterpiece VOLUME 20, 1961 4. M. d. Stillmo¢l¢, C.Ss.R. There is a beautiful chapter on fraternal charity, fol-lowed by one on patience, a virtue that leads to resig-nation to the will of God. Then follows a treatment of mental prayer, its necessity as well as its practice. From there the saint points out the importance and necessity of silence, solitude, and the presence of God. The topic of spiritual reading forms a chapter in itself. The True Spouse contains a long treatment on the frequentation of the sacraments of confession and com-munion. Under confession the saint has a consoling and practical treatise on scruples: what they are, how they are hurtful, their remedy and a practical application. Prayer and purity of intention form two more chapters. A work of this type would not be complete for St~ Alphonsus unless he devoted some space, to the Holy Mother of God. First, Alphonsus contends that no true servant of Mary can be lost; then he goes on to show who are to be considered true servants of Mary. Following the chapter on devotion to Mary is one on the love of Christ, the obligation of a religious to iove Him, and the means of acquiring this love. The saint concludes his work with particular admoni-tions for superiors, novice mistresses, and so on. In the last chapter he gives a rule of life for the religious who desires to become a saint. This includes the treatment of such things as the Divine Office, hearing of Mass, exami-nation of conscience, necessity of banishing melancholy, recreation. The True Spouse even has an appendix con-taining such considerations as a summary of the virtues which the religious who wishes to become a saint should practice, spiritual maxims for religious, and aspirations of love for Christ. Very few books written almost exclusively for religious women handle such a wide and practical range of treat-ment. As one German translator of The True Spouse observes: This book, written as it is with great fo~'ce and piety, contains the.q.uintessence of ascetic theology and is a practical ex-posmon of the virtues of the religious life. I have no hesitation in saying that the reader will find in it all that has been written by ancient and modern writers on the subject of spirituality. It sums up a multitude of books and gives all that the holy author has developed at greater length in other writings on the same matters. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 428 MARCEL MARCOTTE; S.J. Health and Holiness Father, it seems that for the majority of priests, a person suffering from neurosis is condemmed to stand in one spot marking time with no chance of advancing in the spiritual life. I take it that you are not of that opinion, and 1 am so glad. Your opinion confirms my own per-sonal experience and that ol others who have confided in me. When a person is unbalanced in some way, one at once thinks that there has been some frustration in the past of his emotional needs. In most cases this is true. But do not certain neuroses grow worse because of a conflict be-tween the profound need of God which we experience on the one hand and, on the other, the behavior we are led to persist in, sometimes, under the influence o[ the guidance we receive? It seems to me that the more aspir-ing and straightforward a soul is, the more woeful can be certain mistakes in spiritual direction. I think that there is a tendency among religious and priests to make too little of the needs of the soul. Spiritual writers teach clearly that in order to reach God, the soul must proceed by a series of purifications suited to its spiritual progress. But how many spiritual advisors grasp that when the time comes? They seem to think that this was written more for initiates in the spiritual life. But I think that such ideas could be carried over with great profit into many ordinary .lives. Don't you agree? IfI we sidestep debating certain merely incidental ele-ments in this letter so as to throw into relief its main point, the question it asks can be put thus: Does our sanctification depend on our psychological balance as well as, in some degree, on our bodily health and the sound condition of our nerves? Pascal, who was all his life a _very sick and anxiety-haunted man, declared that "ill, ness impairs the judgement and the senses . " "If great 1:This article is translated with permission from Relations, March, . 1961, pp. 64-66. The translation is by George Courtright. 4. 4. 4. Marcel Marcotte, S.J., teaches at the ColI~ge Sainte Marie, 1180 rue Bleury, Montreal 2, Canada. VOLUME 20, 1961 Mar~e! Mav¢otte, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 430 illness," he says plainly, "visibly alters them, I have no doubt at all that minor illnesses have a proportionate fect." This opinion, dictated by the personal experience of a man of genius who was, also, in his own way, a kind of saint, ought doubtless to be kept in mind. How-ever, recent discoverie~ in psychology together with the teaching of experience and certain data of theology lead us to qualify it. Does our relationship with God really depend upon our physical and psychological formation, which, while in us, is, for all that, not us? Are we to be marked in ad-vance for sanctity or for spiritual mediocrity by reason of our temperament, i the condition of our endocrine glands, certain accidents of education, or traumas ex-perienced in the course of life which definitively open or close to us the approaches"to Christian perfect~ion? "The will of God," says St.Paul, "is ,that' you become saints." But is this divine will concerned only with people who have perfectly healthy and well-balanced bodies and minds? Does sanctity reser~b!e some sort of royal feast to which only a small number of chosen guests--great lords and noble ladies with impressive names--are to be in-vited, while the great mass of the faithful must be satis-fied with the crumbs of the banquet? This would be .a surprising and rather scandalous thing. God, in His giving, remains free, but when once He has granted, in baptism, the first, essential gift ("if you knew the gift of Godl" Jesus said to the Samaritan woman), then that spring of living water, which has just penetrated by grac~ into the Christian soul, must inexhaustibly "gush from his breast into eternal life." For the gift of God is nothing else but God Himself, from whom life pours out, diffuses itself, and irresistibly increases in the Christian so as to make him achieve his full height, his complete stature in Christ. S~ill, we must yield to the evidence: Not all Christians are saints--far from it--for indeed if God's gift is to produce its fruit of sanctity in the soul, the Christian must cooperate freely with the ~ace that is offered him. But the usual effects of original sin make this free co-operation very difficult for the normal Christian. Besides this, in many instances, the exercise of freedom is en-cumbered by" special difficulties which render infinitely more unpredictable the conformity of our acts in life to moral standards and the higher dem~inds of sanctity. "It is hard to practice Christian virtue," Alexis Carrel says, "when one suffers from a glandular deficiency." Edu-cators, judges,-moralists, and spiritual directors realize today how important a role the body plays in the origin and development of certain 'kinds of moral, social, and spiritual weaknesses. Chrtesian dualism no longer has currency; we have learned to, recognize ;and admit the. reciprocal influence of the body and the soul~ on .the physical and mental health of human beings. Psycho-somatic medicine, for its 'part, is ready to take into ac-count complications on the physical and bodily level arising from the psychic; why should not .Catholic moral-ity and spiritual teaching,, in turn, take into account the, repercussion of sick organs and nerves upon the interior, psychic life? "Man," says Pascal again, '~is neither angel nor beast, and ill luck would have it that he who would play the angel plays the beast."-" Furthermore, physical health: is not alohe concerned here. Depth psychology has shown (doubtless to the. point;, of sa.t.iety) that the evolution of a religious and moral personality, is linked to the dynhmic'drives of ifiapulses and tendencies of instinct, and emotion which we carry along with us from earliest infancy to adult life. Ac-cording as the liquidation of ce.rtain psychi~ conflicts has been more or less successful, habit~ and moral or spirit-ual attitudes assume very different characters. In certain instances, repression and sublimation will facilitate ,the practice of virtue and thai.pursuit'of sanctity; in others, they will make virtue and holiness, at least in appearance, very difficult or even altogether impossible. Therefore, in the quest for God, the-Christian must not only adapt himself to his nature as he finds it, but, in ad-dition, undergo to a degree very difficult to estimate the inbuilt necessities springing from the past. Why seek to deny it? There are ill-favored creatures who, so far from being naturally equipped to live a truly spiritual life, are not even fit to live a life in accordance with common morality. They will never be so thoroughly good as they might otherwise be simply for lack of discipline and con-tr61 aiid will drag along through weakness after weakness t6'~the end of their lives. Their sense of judgement is warped, their wills debilitated: how can they aspire to personal holiness? Yet, is sanctification to be made de-pendent on the chance that on~ has or has not a healthy hormone balance, or that one is blest in one's psycho-logical makeup or has been guccessfully educated? Some-times, it takes so little (a thyroid'deficiency, the awkward or rough meddling of a teacher) to change the course of one's life. "If Cleopatra's nose had been shorter . " Is the longing of a Christian for sanctity to be similarly sub-ject to accident, to that "grain of sand in the ureter" which, according to Pascal, upset the, Whole map of Europe? To avoid so scandalous a notion, we must first take care to have a right idea of the meaning of sanctification. We must not'confuse it with the attainment of purely human perfection or even~ with the moral perfection Health and Holiness VOLUME 201 1961 43! ÷ ÷ ÷ Marcel Marcotte, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 432 which makes saints so attractive. In essence, sanctification is the act by which God divinizes man. This action occurs in the spiritual order, an order the harmonies of which are not necessarily echoed in the outward behavior and visible appearance of the man God has sanctified. In re-lation to this action, one's psychological makeup is of no importance. Whether a man be endowed with a nature favorable to the acquiring of virtue or is a neurotic ob-sessed by the flesh or by guilt or scruples, it is enough for him to say "Yes" to God, to cling to Him in his soul of souls, beyond all temptation, all childish fear, in order to be swathed in divine grace and himself made divine. On this point, Saint Francis de Sales says: It is beyond question true that our souls ordinarily take on something of the traits and tone of our bodily lower nature . A body weakened and distracted by much pain cannot but in-hibit the vigor and spontaneity of the soul in its performances. But nothing of this is in anyway prejudicial to the spiritual actions of the soul. As pleasing to God as such actions can be when done among all tlie pleasures of the world, they are even more so when done with greater trouble and pain . We must not be unjust to ourselves and demand more of our-selves than we can do. When our bodies and our health give us trouble, we must, at such a time, expect of the soul only acts of submission and resignation and that holy union of ou~' wills with the good pleasure of God, which is formed in the highest reaches of the soul. As for our outward actions, we must direct and perform them as best we can and be conr tent therewith, though our hearts mislike it and the going be slow and heavy. Nevertheless, the fac( remains that sanctity, in the usual sense of the word, requires certain conditions, which are not given to everyone. For example, an idiot finds himself, as such, incapable of that renunciation of sin and of that assent to grace which are essential ,in the spiritual life. Just as a certain healthiness of the nervous system is needed before the moral consciousness can un-fold, So, too, in the order of sanctity, a certain psychologi-cal healthiness is necessary before that love, thanks to which one renounces sin in order to give oneself utterly to God, can unfold. In what does this healthiness consist, without which sanctity becomes impossible~not that sanctity which exists in the hidden mystery, of the sou! but the sanctity we find in the faces, in the words and the actions of those whom we call saints? There are certain characteristics, certain somatic and psychological qualifications which are necessary so that the fruit Of divine grace .may grow and show itself in the form of Christian virtues: for ex-ample, mildness, temperance, purity, brotherly love. If there are serious deficiencies in one's makeup, the soul will struggle vainly to remain faithful; all its efforts, at least in appearance, will remain useless. True, in the eyes of God, "who searches the reins and the heart," all these struggles, endlessly abandoned and endlessly lost, will have contributed to the sanctification of the soul. But for the bystander, and often for the soul itself, hypnotized by its own weakness, this mystei~ious but real sanctifica-tion will never be verified. It will not even be verifiable. It may even happen that priests and experienced spiritual directors will fail to recognize the value and the merit of these hard-fought spiritual battles which always end in a checkmate. But such a lack of understanding--wit-ness the lives of the saints---often forms a part of the means God uses for the spiritual progress of souls. It is a kind of night added to that night in which souls struggle only to make the darkness darker and faith more meri-torious. Yet, the darker the night, the nearer, the more lovely the stars. "Close your eyes, and you will seel ." God has a way all His own of dealing with the emptiness surrounding the soul. It is at the moment when He ap-pears to be forevermore far away that He is often closest. "If you had already found Me," God says to Pascal, "you would not look for Me." The important thing, then, is the search for God, the effort, as the accepted phrase is, toward sanctity while trying evermore in one's life to accept the divine will, even when that will rules that we make our way toward God stumblingly, foundering in the earth like plough-oxen, we who were made to fly high in the heavens like eagles. There are two kinds of saints, says Father Beirnaert. There are the saints with ill-favored and difficult personalities, that mass of people ridden with anxiety, aggressiveness, and love of the body, all those who bear the intolerable weight of having been born as they were, those whose blighted hearts will al-ways be nothing but a knot of snakes, unlucky because they were born with repulsive faces, or because they have never been able to identify themselves with a father. They are those who, unlike St. Francis, will never in their lives charm a bird or pet a wolf of Gubbio; those who sin and will sin again; who will grieve till the day they die, not because they lost their temper a little but because they keep on committing the same filthy, unmentionable action. They are that vast crowd whose sanctity will never shine out in this world through their personalities, who will rise up only on the last day to glitter, finally, in eternity. They are saints without the honor of the name. At their side are the saints blest with attractive personalities, the pure, strong, sweet saints, the model saints, the canonized saints and the saints fit to be canonized, saints with hearts as free and wide as the seasho~'e; saints whose being, like a per-fectly tuned harp, forever sings out the glory of God; wonderful saints, who encourage the advances of grace and in whom we touch a grace-transfigured nature--the recognized, the cele-brated, the great saints, who trail a shining splendor through history. Both kinds of saints are brothers. Those saints whose per- 4- 4- 4- l;ealth and Holiness VOLUME 20, 1961 sonalities are haunted by m'onsters and those in whom angels dwell have the same basic experience, and they speak Of God and of themselves in the same words. They are of the same bourn, the same world; a world where the only grief is to find oneseff so unworthy of God, and the only happinesg is to be loved by Him and to try to give Him love for love. For us, here below, they are different. Before God, they are alike. And we shall see this in the day of the Lord Jesus (Etudes, t. 266, pp. 63-64). Once more, pure holiness can and sometimes must adapt itself to certain bodily and psychological states which will give their stamp to the outward aspect and ac, tions of a Christian, without, for all that, compromising his inner adherence to the divine will and, therefore, without hurting the life of charity in him. "In the evening of'life," says St. John of the Cross, "we shall be judged~on our love." For each and all of us, it is simply a question of love and, therefore, of choosing, according to the meas-ure of freedom that has been given us, between good and bad, between the perfect and the imperfect. In propor-tion to this, God Himself comes to meet us so as to share His life more intimately with us, before finally, bringing us into His beatitude. ÷ ÷ .÷ Marcel Marcotte, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 434 THOMAS DUBAY, S.M., ' ' The ,Superior's Predept and God S Will One of the first pro~ositions a.tyro meets in a religious novitiate ,is one to the~effect that a '~superior's directive is "an expression of God's wilV' for .him': If'a religious wishes to know what God' desires of him,~ he need only listen to;accept, and execute the~precepts of his superior. Unfortunately, this early lesson'-'is subject to ambiguity and confusion. And more unfortunately, it can happen that the novice may embrace for life an incorrect interpre-tation of the~,ambiguity or he may simply, practice reli-gious obedience in a pekdffring cloud ofmisunderstand-ing. Does a superior "manifest,God's will" to a subject? If. he does, what does the expression mean? If he does not, ought we to modify our instruction°on this facet of obe-dience? Before attempting an immediate answer to" these, ques-tions, I should like to ask the reader to consider'a philo-sophical and theological antecedent; namely, the problem of how a man can conform his will to the divine will. A conference or retreat master ,can easily advise his listeners to conform their wills to the will of God, but to what ex-tent this conformity is possible and how itls to be achieved is not at all so simple as might appear on the surface. And-, yet a mature and accurate understanding of religious obe-dience would seem to require that we delve beneath the surface and discover~ what-precisely~ we are doing when we obey. For the attainment of this understanding we can follow no better guide than St. Thomas Aquinas. To tinderstand the Angelic Doctbr's doctrine on the precise °fiaanner in which a man is bound to conform his will to the divine will, we must, as Thomas does, dis-tinguish betweeh what may be called a material and a formal conformity.1 In an act of willifig we notice that there are two elements involved: the thing willed and the 1 Summa theologiae, 1-2, q. 19, a. 10~, c. ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M., is spiritual director at Notre Dame Seminary, 2901 South Carrollton Avenue, New Orleans 18, Louisiana. VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay,. S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 436 motive for willing it. Willing an act of kindness, for ex-ample, implies first of all, the sundry components of the benign deed, and, secondly, the motive or reason for willing that deed. The activity willed (here, the kind deed) is called the material element, while the motive or the reason~why (for example, love for God) is the formal element. It can happen that even when they will opposite real-ities two created wills can be good provided their- motives are good. St. Thomas uses the example of ttie execution of a thief. The judge wills his death, whereas the thief's wife does not will it. The wills are opposed as regards the material element, the fact of the executiori; but they can both be good provided the judge wills the death for a good reason (thecommon welfare) and the wife opposes that death for some evil consequent on it (for example, harm to her family). Because the judge has care for a more universal good, the community, and the wife for a less universal one, her family, both can will opposites and yet be good as long as their reasons are worthy. The° reader will understand that we .are not suggesting that any action at all may become morally good merely by the presence of a good motive. A man may not stem five dollars in order to buy his wife an anniversary gift. We are simply stating that two wills can at times be opposed regarding one action and yet both be willing rightly. We are now in a position to apply this principle to our problem of conformity to God's will. As St. Thomas points out, God as the Maker and Governor of the whole universe knows and wills .whatever He wills under the aspect of the universal good, which is His very goodness. A created will, on the other hand, knows some particular good and sometimes wills it for some reason that is good on a particular scale but not good from the point of view of, the more universal. For example, the avoidance of a spanking is a good from the particular or limited aspect of a child's physical well being, but itsoadministration may be better from the universal and wider aspect of his whole welfare and that of the family. In orde~ for a man to Will well some particular good he must refer it somehow, to the universal good; that is, to God. This referral, this motivation to the last end is the formal element in willing and must be present in a volitional act in order for that act to be rightly ordered. A man, therefore, conforms0his will to the divine will when he refers all that he does to God, since God Himself refers all to His own glory. This is a formal conformity and must always be present in a human act. A man, how-ever, need not and cannot always materially conform his will to the divine will as regards particular acts. It is sufficient that those particular acts be good in themselves and be referred to God, for in so acting man is operating as God wants him to operate~ even though God may not actually will this or that particular act. Hence, a material conformity to the divine will is ,not always required or even possible. Why do we say that a material Conformity to God's will is not always required or even possible? The reason is simple~ We often do not know what God wills as re-gards particular acts. We surely know that He wills us to do all for His sake, but that is a formal conformity, the ordering of all to Him. On.the other hand,.we~frequently do not know whether He .prefers.us to do on~ thing rather than another. I know He wants me'to tell-the truth when I am rightly questioned, but I do not know with certitude whether in ten minutes I should still be writing or visit-ing the BlesSed Sacrament. I know He wants me to obey canon law and my religious rule/but I may not know whe!her He really desires that I make~ tfii.s or that ex-cepaon to them. What ought I to do in these cases? I shbuld use my reason, follow the principles~of.sound ~asceticai theolggy, and exercise the virtue of supernatural prudence. God undoubtedly wiils that I do these latter, but the fact re-mains that once I have made my decision there may or may~ not be a material confOrmity between my will and His. Such,' however, is quite a Satisfactory situation pro-vided that what I do is good and is ordered to Him. In other words, material .conformity may' be lacking, but formal conformity may not. , ~pp!ication to Religious Obediencei: Can we, then, say that a religious Superior manifests tile will of God when he gives' a directive to his subjects? Surely, if the superior merely reiterates a precept of the natural or divine laws, he is indicating the divine will, but he is hardly manifesting it. ,That will is usually al-ready manifested to the subject, 'remotely by human tea, son or supernatural revelation, and proximately by in-struction he has received. As regards other matters (and they are commonly practical on~s) the superior cannot be said tO manifest the divine intention for the obvious rea-son that he does not know what the divine intention' is. If Father Superior tells Father Jones to suspend convert instruction classes during the summer, he is not neces, sarily manifesting God's will to Father Jones. Short of a private revelation Father Superior cannot know with certitude whether God really desires that suspension or not. All he can °do is.Use his experience, reason, and supernatural prudence in coming to a,decision and then hope he is doing what God wants. When Mother Pro-vincial assigns Sister Alice to teaching rather than to ÷ ÷ ÷ The Superior's Precept VOLUME 20, 1961 437 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS nursing, Mother is not necessarily declaring the divine mind, because God may actually know that Sister Alice is better fitted to be a'nurse. I would say, then, that, simply speakin.g, a religious superior does not manifest God's will when he issues a command. In an improper sense, however, the superior may be said to manifest God's willAn his precept insofar as God wishes the subject to carry~ out what His representative has commanded. While it is true-that the fulfillment of this command is willed by God, yet the command itself does not properly manifest'anything but the superior's intention. I think it would be re.ore correct to say that by his precept a superior gives his subject the opportunity to do God's will, that is, to obey. It would seem wise, therefore, not to use this.expr~ession in an improper sense because it is misleading and confusi.ng. There-is no mani-festation of what we may call the content of God's will. By his obedience, then,, a religious conforms his will formally to the divine will when he orders his obedience to the divine glory through the virtue of charity. There is, secondly, a material conformity insofar as God wills this precept to, be carried out. There may or may not be, thirdly, a material conformity as regards the content of the precept. The reader will notice that our whole position on the superior's inability to manifest with certitude the con-tent of the ~livine will rests on his ignorance of that will. Hgw can~we establish that ignorance? Really, it needs no establishing because it is obvious on a moment's" reflec-tion. St. Thomas himself saw no difficulty about the matter. "Although we cai~not know a proper end, we can know the ultimate end from whom issues all the goodness found in proximate ends, so t.hat we may direct all we do to God, who made all things for Himself."z "The just on earth, whose will clings to the divine goodness, and yet do not so perfectly contemplate it (as the blessed do) that they clearly see the ordering ofoevery actiop to it, are conformed to the divine will as regards thos_e things whose character th~ey perceive . ,,s The Saint's last remark is most clear: "In particulars we do not know what God wills, and a~s regards.these we are not bound to conform our will to the divine will.''4 ~ St. Thomas readily admits our ignorance of the divine will in many details of human life, the proximate ends as he calls them. We need. only apply his thought to reli-gious obedience and _we have the basis on which our above explanation rests. But can a superior because of his sharing in the divine 1 Sententiae, d. 48, q. l, a. 3, ad 6; see also article 4. De veritate, q. 23, a. 8, c. Summa thkologiae, 1-2, q. 19, a. 10, ad I. ruling authority somehow claim to set forth what we have called the content of the divine will? I think not. No man, be he superior, equal, or inferior, can rightly claim to manifest the mind of God unless God in some way re-veals His mind and ratifies, the claim. God's mind is God and~He is unsearchable. Hence, if a mere man may be said to make known God's mind or His will, that man must have some divine-assurance that such is the case. Does the religious superior have this assurance when he directs his subordinates in the observance of their vows and constitutions? The teaching Church, the Roman~ Pontiff and the bishops in union with him, certainly enjoy this assurance when they intend tobind in their authentic teaching (See Mt 16: 16"19; 18: 18; Lk 10: 16; Jn 20:21).~But does a re-ligious superior as such share in these divine commissions in any way that would permit him to claim that he, too, reflects the .divine will in 'his decisions? We ~may note, first of all, that on the one hand a religious superior, qua : talis, does not possess any special teaching authority in : the Church. On the other, Plus XII made it clear that the i ruling power of ~'eligious superiors is,;a participation in the divinely received ruling power of the Supreme Pontiff ~ himself. Speaking to.the superiors general of orders and .~ to other religious superiors, the Holy Father remarked -" thgt "you have been appointed tO a certain participation " in Our apostolic office," and then enlarged his thought: "Thus in this,.part of Our office, most beloved sons, delegating to you some of Our supreme jurisdiction, either directly by the code of canon law or by your insti-tutes and their rules approved by Us, and setting the foundations of your power which is called 'dominative,' We have assumed you as sharers in Our supreme office. Hence, it is that We are .very much concerned that you exercise your authority according to Our mind and that of the Church.'5 Does this participation in the apostolic governing power give a religious superior some capability to manifest God's will? To answer this last question we must distinguish be tween a mere ruling power and a teaching pbwer. Even the Church herself~, does not claim infallibility in as, pects of her universal laws unconnected with doctrine, and therefore, she does not claim in them to bg represent-ing what we have been terming the content of the divine mind. In setting twenty-four years as the minimum age for the reception of the priesthood even the Holy See would not'claim that it knows the content of the divine mind on that question. While God may conceivably prefer some other age limitation, yet it is His will that 6 Translated from L'osservatore romano, February 12, 1958, p. I. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Superior'$ Precepg VOLUME 20, 1961 439 ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 440 bishops obey the Church's actual determination of twenty-four years. If the hierarchy itself, divinely endowed with a right to govern men to eternal life, cannot at times be sure that its laws express exactly the divine preference, it can come as a surprise to no one that we deny any such certainly to a religious superior who merely participates in the Church's ruling authority on a delegated basis. When a provincial superior of religious men appoints a priest to the mission band or when a local superior of religious women directs a sister to wax the floors on Saturday morning, it is not objectively sure that the priest is best suited for mission work or that the sister ought not rather be doing background reading in her teaching field. Yet it remains true that both the priest and the sister may be sure that God wills them to give missions and wax the floors respectively. While the two superiors may not6 have manifested the content'of the divine will, both of them have issued directives that God, as a matter of fact, wants implemented by two religious who have received two specific precepts. Even though the religious superior does rule through a participation in a divinely-given governing authority, he has nonetheless received no divine assurance that his commands are always going to conform to the objective truth of things. The subject, then, sees God in his supe-rior not in the sense that the superior's word must be taken as God's own word, but only in the sense that the superior's command is .given by one who has God's authority to give it. The distinction is important. On the one hand it obviates the untenable conclusion that a re-ligious superior is immune from error in his decisions as superior, and on the other it preserves the necessary postulate that a superior's precept is given on no mere human basis. In view of what we have said one could hardly miss the conclusion that a religious superior ought to weigh carefully the directives he gives. Even though it would be unreasonable to expect him to be objectively right in each of his decisions, yet he should make every effort consonant with the gravity of the matter.to be objectively right. Because he rules with a divinely authorized delega-tion, he should take care that his directives be as closely in accord with the divine intentions as possible. Reli-gious government by whim, directives issued by worldly prudence, commands based on favoritism, prejudice, or misinformation are wholly unbecoming in men and women who rule in such wise that their precepts some-e Our use of the word "may" indicates naturally enough that the two superiors may, as a matter of fact, be indicating the content of the divine will. "May not" suggests also "may." how flow from a divine authorizati+n. Traits of the good superior, then, most assuredly include supernatural pru-dence, a personal selflessness, and a willingness to take and follow counsel. We must note correlatively~that what we have said in this article does not absolve a subject from a perfect obedience to his superior. The fact that God may not "agree" that the decision contained in a particular com-mand is the wisest of all choices does not mean that the subject does well in refusing an obedience of execution, will, and intellect (the last, insofar as it is possible). In other words, our discussion is meant to clarify, not to damage the perfection of our obedience. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Superior's Precept VOLUME 20, 1961 44! R. F. SMITH, S.J. Survey of Roman Documents ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, S.], REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS In this article those documents will be summarized wliich appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis during June and July, 1961. All page references in the article will be to the 1961 Acta (v. 53). A New Encyclical On May 15, 1961 (pp. 401-64), Pope John XXIII is-sued a new encyclical, Mater et Magistra (Mother and Teacher), to commemorate the seventieth anniversary of Pope Leo XIII's encyclical on social matters, Rerum Novarum. In the introduction to his encyclical, the Pope observed that just as Christ, though primarily interested in the spiritual welfare of men, was also concerned with their material welfare, so also the Church takes care of the spiritual good of men without neglecting their ma-terial, economic, and cultural needs. Passing to the first of the four parts into which the encyclical is divided, His Holiness sketched the evils of the economic and social situation of the nineteenth cen-tury, evils which occasioned Rerum Novarum. The Holy Father then listed the chief principles of Catholic social doctrine as laid down by Leo XIII and as afterwards en-larged and amplified by Pius XI and Pius XII. In the second part of Mater et Magistra, the Vicar of Christ took up and developed certain points of the teach-ing found in Leo XIII's document. While the economic order/ he pointed out, is the. creation of the personal initiative of private citizens, still the State must see to it that economic development benefits all the citizens. This, however, must be done in accordance with the principle of subsidiarity enunciated by Pius XI in Quadragesimo Anno, a principle which protects the personal initiative of individual persons. In this connection the Pontiff con-sidered the matter of modern economic and social plan-ning which involves public authorities in matters as crucial as the care of health or the controlling of pro-fessional careers: Such planning, he remarked, brings many advantages and satisfies many personal rights;, how-ever, it also makes juridical control of hurfian relations more detailed and creates an atmosphere which makes initiative and responsibility difficult. Hence, such plan-ning should be realized in such a way as to draw from it all its advantages and to remove or restrain its disadvan-tages. ¯ .," Pope John then turned to consider the question of "the remuneration to be given to workers. ~AI1 workers, he af-firmed, should be given a wage that:allows them to live a truly human, life and to face with dignity their family responsibilities. Other factors;~.however; must alsb be considered: the worker's effective contribution to produc-tion, the economic state of the enterprise, ~he require-ments of the common good,both of the country and of the entire world~ " The economic'wealth of a people,., the Pontiff went on to say, must not be judged merely.by, its total aggregate wealth, bht also by its efficacious distributidn~throughout the entire populace. One of the most desirable ways of achieving this distribution~ is to permit th~ w6~kers to participate in the ownership of the enterprise. One last necessity for a just economic system was,underscored by the P6pe'when he obseiwe6that~if the structure of an economic system is suEh~that it compromises human dig-nity by systeinatically removing a" sense of-responsibility and of initiative in the 'worker, then .the system is un-just, even though through it riches are accumulated and distributed according to the rules of justice and equity. Hence the continuing importance today of artisan and co-operative enterprises. And in large enterprises, workers should have an active part, the enterprise becoming a real community with relations between employer and employee marked by mutual appreciation, understand-ing, and co-operation and by a mutual,grasp, of,:th~ en-terprise not,merely as a source of income but,,as the ful-fillment of a duty and°the rendering of a service.:~Workers, he.said, should not be reduced to being merely execu'tors of work, entirely passive in regard to decisions that regu-late their activity. Here the Pope stressed the desirability of associations of workers and the need that the influence of workers'should be extended beyond the limits of~their individual productive units. The Holy Father turned next to the matter of. private property, observing that the modern growth of the dis-~- tinction between the ownership of capital and the man: agement of the larger economic entities, the increase of social insurance and security, and the greater confidence in income and rights from, labor,rather'than from capital ÷ ÷ ÷ Roman, Documen~ VOLUME ;'0, ÷ ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 444 do not diminish the natural right of private ownership. This right, he said, is fouflded on the priority of individ-ual human beings as compared with society,,is necessary for free and personal initiative in the economic field, and prevents the stifling of freedom. Not only must the right to private property be recognized; equally neces-sary is the recognition of the natural right of its effective distribution among all social classes; added to this must be the acknowledgement that a social function is intrinsi-call~ linked with the right, of private property, for the goods of the earth have been destined by God for the worthy support of. all human beings. In the third part of the encyclical, Pope John took up a consideration of new socio-economic problems that face the modern world. First among these is the extensive exo-dus of farm populations to urban centers. While many reasons lie behind this exodus, the Pope pointed out that among these reasons is the fact that the farm sector lags behind other sectors, in productivity of labor and in living standards. Hence public authorities should see that essential services (education, roads, utilities, and so forth) in the country are suitably developed. Improved produc-tion methods and selective agriculture should be encour-aged. In the assessment of taxes, it should be remembered that in ,farming returns come slowly and are exposed to greater risks; the same considerations should lead to a special credit policy for farmers. Social security and in-surance systems should not give farmers allowances sub-stantially lower than those granted to industrial and other' sectors; there should be an effective system to protect farm prices. At the same time, rural workers should keep in mind the rights and interests of other types of workers as well as those of the common good. They should con-ceive their work both as a vocation and as a mission, as a call ~from God and as a contribution to human civili-zation, The Holy Father next took up the matter of relations between developed and underdeveloped countries. Hu-man solidarity as. well as the doctrine of the Mystical Body forbids that political communities with abundant resources remain indifferent tO the misery and hunger of underdeveloped-areas. Countries with an excess of consumer goods, especially farm products,, should give emergency, aid to the indigent and needy of other coun-tries. This, however, should be ,accompanied by scientific, technical, and financial help to remove the causes of *underde~elopment. In the execution of this aid, social progress should grow simultaneously With economic progress, the native characteristics of the country should be respected, and political interestedness--another name [or colonialism--should be avoided. In giving such aid, it should always be remembered that technology, economic development, and material well-being are and must re-main secondary to spii~itual values. At this point the Pontiff showed how the entrance of the Church into a country has always restilted in social and econbfiaic better-ment. With regard to the problem of the increase in popula-tion and the sufficiency of mea'ns of sustenance, the Vicar of Chi'ist remarked that in a view of the world as a whole there does°not seem tobe at least for the moment and the near future a great difficulty. In any.case ~here is no need for solutions such as birth control which offend the moral order established by God. Even in individual countries and regions where there is an actual dispib'- portion between population arid means of sustenance, such means can not be used. The true solution is to be found only in economic development and in social prog-ress brought about in a moral atmosphere. "A provident God," he stated, "grants sufficient means to the human race to solve in dignified fashion even .the many and del-icate problems attendant upon the transmission of life." The last of the problems to be considered by the Pope was that of world co-operation. All problems of any importance, he began, present today supranational and often world dimensions. Hence the different political -communities can not solve such problems on their own and by themselves; accordingly there is a need for mutual °understanding; such understanding, however, is pre-vented today because of the mistrust and fear among nations. This mistrust exists because some political leaders do not recognize the existence of a moral order that is based or/ God. And without God, c6ncluded the Pontiff, science and technology are powerless to con-struct a civilization. In the fourth and last part of the encyclical, the Pope insisted that whatever technical and economic progress there may be, there will be neither justice nor peace in the world until men return to a sense of their dignity as creatures and sons-of God. This is why the Church is a herald of a way of life that is ever modern. From .her doctrine of the sacred dignity of the individual, she has drawn a social teaching that takes into consideration the realities of human nature, the various dimensions of the temporal order, and the characteristics of contem-porary society. This social teaching, he said, is an integral part of the Christian conception of li~[e and should be known, spread, and put into observance by all Catholics. The executibn of this doctrine will be the work especially of the laity whom, in the concluding sections of the en-cyclical, the Pontiff urges to remain close to. the doctrine of Christ and His Church. ÷ 4- 4- Roman Documents VOLUME 20, 1961 445 R. F. Smith~ S,]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU, S 446 Miscellaneous° Documents O~a July 22, 1960 (pp. 3~1-43)~ Pope John" issued an apostoli~ constitution dstablishing an exarchate foi: Ukranians of the Byzantine Ri~e living in .France. The see of the exarch will be in Pari~ and~he will be a ~uffr~igan of the archbishop of Paris; the power of the exarch will be exercised cumulatively with that of the loc'al ordinaries of France. On the sameday (pp. 343-44) a similar exarch-ate was estabhshed for those of the Armeman Rxte hwng in France. On April 23, 1961 (pp. 314-18), Hi~ Holines~ spoke to members of various Oriental rites, exl~ressing his admiration for the grandeu~ of Eastern Christianity and the hope that it will find'in the Pope "the sweetness of David and the wisdom of Solomon." On Pentecost, May 21, 1961 (pp. 358-62), His Holiness delivered an al-locution after he had consecrated fourteen mi.ssionary bishops from Africa, America, and Asia. He told his listeners tha t the. riew bishops w.ere the flowers of the new churches of Africa and Asia,~urged the new bishops to study the cultures and histories of their peoples and to work and firay that these be~b'enefited by the redemotion, and re'~all'ed the centenary of the dea'th of Bish~)p de Mazenod, founder of the Oblates 9f Mar~ Immaculate, one o~ the gre.at nanies in the modern renaissance of mission.activity. On November 24, 1960 (pp. 346-'50), the Holy Father'issued an apostolic c6nstitution establishing the hi.erarchy in Vietnam- with a division into three ecclesiastical provinces. On May 27, 1961 (p. 388.),. the Sacred .Cong~egation'bf Rites issued a declaration according to _which a ferial of the fourth class i~ never to be commemorated in a festive or votive Mass,. even though it be a conventual,, one. Accordingly~the f611owing numbers of the new code of rubrics are to ~be modified to read: N.-26. All ferials not mentioned in Nos. 23-25 are ferials of the fourth class; these ar~never commemorated. N.-289_. [At the beginning] On all'ferials of the fourth clasS . there may be said without a commemoration of the ferial. N. 299. [Second part] On bther ferials the Mass of the pre-cedin~ Sunday is said unless the rubrics provide otherwise. On May q l, 1961, the Feast of the Ascension (pp. 289- 95), Pope John XXIII solemnly canonized Blessed Mary Bertilla Boscardin'(1888-1922), virgin, of the School Sisters of St. Dorothy, Daughters of the Sacred Hearts. Her feast day is to be kept on October-22. In the hom.ily after the canonization, the Holy Father pointed out that the new saint is a l~sson to the~great and wise of this world, for she achieved greatness through humility and ,heroism through hidden sacrifice. He also stated that her sanctity was founded on her family where she learned the secret of constancy, on her catechism which taught her true wisdom, and on her religious vocation which allowed her to give herself entirely to God and to her neighbor. On April 26, 1961 (pp. 381-85), the Sacred Congregation of Rites affirmed the heroic virtue ol~ the venerable Servant of God, Leonard Murialdo (1828-1900), professed priest and founder of the Pious Society of St. Joseph. On'the same day (pp. 385-88), the congregation also affirmed the heroic virtue o1: the venerable Servant of God, Gertrude Comensoli (1847-1903), ~oundress of the Sacramentine Sisters. ~ On April 21, 1961 (pp. 308-14), the Holy Father ad-dressed the First National Italian Congress for Ecclesiasti-cal Vocations. He laid great stress on the influence of priests on vocations, the importance of seminaries for the developing of the human and Christian virtues of future priests, and the need to labor with discretion and zeal for the increase of vocations. On M~rch 25, 1,961 (pp. 371-80), the Sacred Congregation of Religious issued an instruction and statutes to govern extern sisters of monasteries of nun

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 53.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1994. ; ChriStian Heritages and Contempora~ Living MAY-J~ !994 ¯ VOIdUME 531 ¯ NUMBER3 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University. by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ Fax: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, 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. ©1994 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 libraw 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. review for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Sefin Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1994 " VOLUME53 ¯ NUMBER3 contents 326 feature Leadership a New Way: Women, Power, and Authority Janet K. Ruffing RSM explores the Christian concepts of power and the developmental stages which lead to sharing power and to healing the wounds of authority we all bear. 34O 352 life in flux Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark Jane Ferdon OP and George Murphy SJ draw from their experience of spiritual direction to shed light upon some of the darkness experienced by women and men religious. Merging Provinces Gerald A. Arbuckle SM brings insights from cultural anthropology to the process of merging congregational provinces. 364 One Voice from the Middle Place Judith Ann Eby RSM speaks out as part of a new generation which interprets religious life differently from those whose background includes the lived experience of Tridentine Catholicism. 375 life in service Religious, the Laity, and the Future of Catholic Institutions Catherine Harmer MMS suggests that for the good of Catholic institutions it is time for religious to let go of some things and for lay people to take them on so that both groups can act at their best. 386 Being and Acting Holy for Ministry's Sake Clyde A. Bonar proposes some practical ways of being about our one ministry: to be holy. 397 Missionary by Nature William F. Hogan CSC focuses attention upon the essential missionary aspect of every Christian and religious vocation. 322 Review for Rellg~ous life of witness 402 How to Read the Lives of Saints of Old 415 Frederick G. McLeod SJ gives some helps for our understanding and appreciating the richness of meaning found in the lives of saints of old. Prayer Francis J. Ring SJ offers his personal history of praying as a support for all pilgrims in their prayer life. reflective life 420 Even at the Grave We Make Our Song Margaret Bullitt-Jonas explores how three symbols--the crucifixion, the resurrection, and the ascension of Jesus Christ-- came to life as she prayed over her infant daughter's death. 436 A Letter to Dead Parents about Today's Life Eileen O'Hea CSJ writes about her present-day experience of religious life. 440 452 46O religious life in perspective Journeying to God Together Susan Beaudry PM and Edwin L. Keel SM suggest that what religious have to offer the people of God is the experience of the spiritual journey, with its wisdom and skills. Charism as Sonnet: Developmental Considerations S. Suzanne Mayer IHM offers various perspectives on living the charisms of religious life for the dynamic of personal growth. Hispanic Faith and Culture--and U.S.A. Religious Gloria In~s Loya PBVM explains the pillars, of ministry, community, and spirituality .which support religious life in a Mexican-American setting. departments 324 Prisms 467 Canonical Counsel: Directives for the Relationship between Bishops and Religious: Mutuae Relationes 473 Book Reviews May-.lWune 1994 323 prisms E those of us living in the midwestern part of the United States, the spring and early summer seasons bless us with a burst of flowering trees and shrubs and a continuing array of nature's living vari-ety. Obviously all these signs of life are not created out of nothing each year. In fact, the changing seasons remind us of how much life remains hidden from our daily human perspective. Seeds look to be so dry and lifeless. Even in planting them in lawn or garden, we can only wonder about and wait for the activities of life still hidden from our sight. Oceans appear to our eyes as only a huge volume of water, but oceans teem with life--mostly hidden beneath the sur-face- which marine biologists endlessly discover and observe and marvel at. If we buy into the impressions promoted by contem-porary advertising, we find ourselves acting as if what we see is what life is all about. Life as sold by secular culture seems to bankrupt itself in surface impressions. Just how limited such a vision of life is quicHy becomes apparent when we deal with moral and religious issues of human living. Abortion only becomes an option if people keep human life out of sight. Arguments for abortion deal with choices and rights, with nary a thought about the hid-denness of human life. "Ethnic cleansing," whether it be in E~rope, Africa, Asia, or America, is a cosmetic phrase to disguise the deadly idea that some peoples are more deserving of life than others. Put into practice, this deadly idea joins the age-old slave trading, the Nazi concentra-tion camps, and futuristic scientific cloning as another 324 Reviezv for Religious sadly and horrendously narrow human mishandling of human life. For all the words about environment and ecology and quality of human life, we seem unable to reverence the mystery of life-- visible life and hidden life--with which our world abounds. For the young Christian community at Colossae, St. Paul used the pregnant phrase that "our life is hidden now with Christ in God." Perhaps we need to reflect more on the hiddenness of our faith life and thereby come to an appreciation and reverence for the hiddenness of life in general. The fledgling Christian com-munity at Colossae realized that in everyday life they looked pretty much the same as everyone else. They ate, they drank, they sometimes went hungry, they married and had families, they got sick, they died; they had joys and sorrows. They gathered, of course, for Eucharist, and their concern and care for one another and anyone in need did give them some mark of distinctiveness. But overall they lived with a new reverence for life--from the very young to the very old. Why? Because the risen Christ in whom they all were baptized had brought them into a new rela-tionship to God and to one another--a relationship subtle as the Spirit but as real as the risen Christ himself. As Saul (now Paul the writer) experienced and many other persecutors have learned since his day, a voice insists that it is Jesus whom they persecute. We Christians hear Jesus insisting, "If you do it to the least of these, my brothers and sisters, you are doing it to me." We touch here the source of the hidden life we all live in Christ. But Jesus does more than affect the hiddenness of human relationships--whatever tribe or nationality, religious affiliation or secular lifestyle. Because Jesus has taken on the darkness and hid-denness of suffering and death and by his rising joined it into a new fullness of life, the physical world in which we live is not the same as it was. Suffering and death are not just problems to be solved and if possible eliminated; suffering and death, now seen in a wholly new relationship to life in the risen Christ, must also be met with reverence. In the midst of all our necessary human efforts to relieve the suffering in our world, we believers stand with reverence before suffering, lfor we know. with the sureness of faith that because of Christ life lies hidden even in suffering, sometimes especially in suffering. Therein, deep down, like life in winter, lives Christian joy and the root of Christian reverence for life. David L. Fleming SJ May-ffvtne 1994 325 feature JANET K. RUFFING Leadership a New Way: Women, Power, and Authority The FORUS study in its general conclusions identified authority as "perhaps the most pressing question for reli-gious to resolve."' Underneath the question of authority, I find at least two foundational themes which need to be explored--the meaning of leadership in religious congre-gations in light of differing interpretations of power and authority and the specifically religious qualities of lead-ership. As I study the current research on religious life, I continue to uncover the deep ground of grace out of which religious life grows and flourishes. I remain convinced that we cannot hope to understand the reality of contem-porary religious life without probing this depth level of religious experience. The present theological, interdisci-plinary, experiential reflections address such questions as: Leadership for what? VChat obstacles impede our ability to collaborate? Part II addresses questions about religious leadership: How do leaders support the ongoing conver-sion implied as we discover new dimensions of the Christ mystery in our lives and ministries? What ultimately sus-tains us in our calling? "Authority in many U.S. institutions, including reli-gious life, has.undergone deconstruction. Variable under- Janet Ruffing RSM is associate professor in spirituality and spir-itual direction in the Graduate School of Religion and Religious Education at Fordham University. Her address is GSRRE, Fordham University; 441 E. Fordham Road; Bronx, New York 10458-5169. The second part of her article, "If Christ Is Growing in U~," will appear in our July-August 1994 issue. 326 Review for Religious standings of consensus, subsidiarity, discernment, and leadership have diffused understandings of authority. The abuse of author-ity in the past makes individuals reluctant to endorse authority in any way.''2 It is clear from the FORUS study that these differ-ing views of authority and the corresponding understandings of obedience exist within single institutes as well as across insti-tutes. As a result, leadership is sometimes severely impaired in its ability to lead; while in other instances leadership is experi-enced as empowering and free-ing for mission. Authority functions and is understood differently when charism is taken seriously and when governance takes adult discipleship into account. Women religious particularly have been redefining the mean-ing of obedience and authority in ways particularly suited to their awareness of their needs and desires as women. The FORUS study reports that vision groups "view authority as power that is shared among commu-nities of equals,''3 These changes in understandings of authority are related to how such a vision of power and authority and the impli-cations for redefining a vow of obedience appear, to many women to be more compatible with gospel values than does the post- Tridentine version of authority. Women religious as a group, espe-cially at the level of leadership, are pressing for a more enabling exercise of power among themselves. Although religious desire to maintain an ecclesial identity, the FORUS study reports a "lowered respect for the magisterial authority of the church and the U.S. hierarchy in general.''4 According to this study, women are acutely aware of their exclu-sion from leadership by the clerical church. Women religious are looking at church in new ways; they have embraced a clear com-mitment to changing this church. Clerical resistance to this change will further diminish the capacity of women's communities to Apostolic religious women will not fully stabilize nor be able to attract and retain new vocations until ecclesial conflicts about the church's mission and the contribution of religious within it are resolved. NIay-j~ne 1994 327 Ruffing * Leadership a New Way attract the very women who are looking for a public context in society and church that is meaningful for their dedication and service. In my opinion, apostolic religious women will not fully sta-bilize nor be able to attract and retain new vocations until eccle-sial conflicts about the church's mission and the contribution of religious within it are resolved. This includes not only resolving the role of women in the church but also arriving at an operative consensus of the role of the church in the modern world. Religious are in a real sense church people whose mission and identity lie at the heart of the ~hurch's own. The Brooldand Commission Study reported that 94 percent of their respondents named the self-understanding of the church developed in the wake of Vatican II to be a source in forming their ideas about what is essential to religious life.s To the extent that the larger church is ambiEalent about the directions set by the council, religious life will con-tinue to be at risk. In the context of these recent studies which indicate both sig-nificant change and continuing confusion, I will describe the psy-choanalytic roots of our attitudes toward authority, explore several concepts of power disclosed in the New Testament, and reflect on women and power. I will end with the Whiteheads' descriptions of both the developmental stages which lead to sharing power in Christian communities and the necessary task of healing the wounds of authority which we all bear. Formative Experiences with Authority One's basic stance toward authority, those whom I perceive to be "in charge" or more powerful than I, is usually determined by my early experiences with my mother and father and then with institutional authorities such as teachers and other authority fig-ures. This experience forms how I relate to God as an ultimate authority, how I relate to situations of injustice, how I relate to my own authority, and. how I relate to ambiguous authority. (Ambiguous authority refers to that exercise of authority which is usually benign but which is occasionally overbearing or oppres-sive.) If my experience has been one in which authority was exer-cised with genuine love and for my good, I will tend to respect and trust authority. I will creatively participate with authority, and I 328 Review for Religious will feel comfortable being critical of this authority. These responses are based on a sense that persons in authority have benign motives and are both fallible and rational. In other words, were I to present information missing from a decision, that new information would be taken into account and I would not be pun-ished for making a suggestion. Authority exercised with love is neither physically nor verbally abusive, but consistently treats me with respect. On the other hand, if my experience has been one in which authority was not so exercised, fear will be my dominant emo-tional response. I will either conform to the wishes of authority to avoid notice or abuse or I will rebel against it. Neither rebel-lion nor conformity are particularly healthy responses because both are rooted in a feeling of alienation and powerlessness. Authority functions against me and I feel powerless to do much about it. If I rebel, I choose noncooperation. I do not help to change the situation; instead, I may create a separate peace by withdrawing or opposing. If I conform, I do so because I feel powerless. I do not tell the truth but tell them only what they want to hear to avoid conflict. Since I perceive authority to be unloving and irrational, rational discourse cannot achieve any-thing fruitful, so I do not even try. Of course, no one is a pure type, and all usually have had some experience of both forms of authority. But most of the time I inhabit one attitude more than the other. I either offer myself to the process of authority-mak-ing or I withdraw in fear from participation. If my early experience is primarily loving and rational, I will experience God's authority to be for my good; I will recognize and" act against situations of injustice; I will experience my own inner authority and act out of it in nondefensive ways; and I will be able to be critical. I can tell the truth in the face of ambiguous experiences of authority. I can afford to see that a given person in authority has room to grow in the way he or she exercises that authority. New Testament Concepts of Power The New Testament presents two concepts of power. It addresses the way authority exercises power through the behav-ior and teaching of Jesus, and it begins to redefine power as the activity of God in our midst. "Power in the kingdom of God will May-June 1994 329 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way be totally different from power as it is exercised in the kingdom of Satan (the world). The power of Satan is the power of domi-nation and oppression, the power of God is the power of service and freedom." 6 All the kingdoms and nations of this present world are governed by the power of domination and force. The struc-ture of the kingdom of God will be determined by the power of spontaneous loving service which people render to one another. In Mark, Jesus puts it this way: "You know that among the pagans their so-called rulers lord it over them, and their great men make their authority felt. This is not to happen among you. No; any-one who wants to become great among you must be your servant (diakonos), and anyone who wants to be first among you must be a slave (doulos) to all. For the son of man himself did not come to serve but to give his life as a ransom for many" (Mk 10:42-45, Mk 9:35). This teaching occurs in all three synoptics and is par-alleled by the footwashing pericope in John's gospel. "You call me teacher and lord, rightly so--if I your teacher and Lord have washed your feet--so also ought you to wash one another" (Jn 13:14). This is an example of the way power is to be exercised among the disciples--placing ourselves at the service of one another's freedom, calling forth from one another by our exam-ple "kingdom qualities," and releasing the power of the commu-nity in mission. Jesus is very clear about the difference between domination and service. As Albert Nolan says, "The power of this new soci-ety is not a power which has to be served, a power before which a person must bow down and cringe. It is the power which has an enormous influence in the lives of people by being of service to them." 7 Also relevant to this discussion is Jesus' attitude to the law, the power which enabled religious rulers to dominate and oppress. Jesus consistently attacked this abuse of the law. He rejected any interpretation which was used against people. The law was meant to serve genuine human needs and interests. Unfortunately, many fear the responsibility of freedom. We seek the security of a law which gives us prestige and allows us to dominate, or we let others make decisions for us, hiding behind rules, relying on the letter rather than on the spirit of the law. In so doing we enslave ourselves by our fear of freedom, and we deny freedom to others as well. Jesus does not abolish the law, but relativizes it so that we will take responsibility for the sys-tems we create and use them to serve the needs of humanity. The 330 Review for Religious exercise of power and authority in God's kingdom is to be func-tional. It should embody the arrangements that are necessary if we are to serve one another willingly and effectively. Every type of domination and servitude is to be abolished, including religious forms of these abuses. The New Testament also speaks about another kind of power--the power that comes from on high over Mary, the Holy Spirit, who also comes upon the community gathered in Jesus' name after the resurrec-tion. Jesus' ministry is characterized by a release of God's power as he expels demons and heals those who believe. The woman with the issue of blood touches Jesus, and power goes out from him. In Luke, all try to touch Jesus in order to be healed because power emanates from him. When Jesus sends out the disciples to preach, he confers power on them, not to rule but to heal and to cast out demons. Jesus releases in our midst freedom from all that binds us. He heals and forgives sin and invites us to share in this power for good which is the Spirit's action in us. We, as apostolic women, are empowered by that same Spirit. We are called to develop ways of making decisions, organizing our lives, and harmonizing our gifts so that this holy power for mission is released in each of us and in the group as a whole. The disciples had trouble understanding this; they kept mixing up these two kinds of power, wanting to rule and lord it over others rather than releasing the God life to its own ends. Jesus is very clear about the difference between domination and service. Women and Power As women we can often remain confused about these texts and themes. We have been trained in our tradition to be power-less-- to be the servants. Kathleen Fischer puts it this way: "Rhetoric about servanthood has often been used against women, trapping us in subservient roles. As suffering servant Jesus exer-cises power in the service of rglationships,.affirming the dignity and worth of each individual. He empowered others, unlocking their deepest desires and enabling them to use their best gifts."s Women's role in the church has been designated as the subordi-nate one (servants) while others have assumed the positions of May-June 1994 331 Ruffing * Leadership a New Way If we do exercise power unconsciously, we will probably do to others exactly what has been done to us. authority, taking charge, lording it over, and engaging in ritual footwashings while not holding power lightly. As a result, women find themselves oppressed by religious authority and in a posi-tion of permanent subordination. Since power has been a bad word among Christian women, we perceive it as a negative and dangerous reality. Because it is something none of us is to have or exercise, we are therefore often mysti-fied by the use of power in the church and in religious congregations. We do not want anything to do with power, and we may be afraid to exercise it. If we want power, we must be bad. Exercising power in our own interest can leave us feeling selfish, self-destruc-five, or threatened in our relationships. This ambivalence about power and our social conditioning in patriarchal sys-tems create a situation in which we often exercise our power indirectly or unconsciously. Or we may become con-fused and anxious when conflict or struggle comes out into the open. If we do exercise power unconsciously, we will probably do to others exactly what has been done to us. So as not to oppress anyone else as we have been oppressed, we need to understand power differently. We need to see power as a strength and understand how to participate in the healthy use of power. Jean Baker Miller redefines power simply as the "capacity to implement.''9 Expressing power does not need to be coercive or oppressive. Women, however, do not exercise power any better than men unless we become conscious and critical of how and when we express power. The Whiteheads on Power In the American church many men and women, clergy and laity, struggle to reflect critically on their experience of power in ecclesial contexts and to change how that power is expressed. Recent writings by Evelyn and James Whitehead have supported this struggle by exploring gospel understandings of power in the 332 Review for Religious light of the contemporary social sciences. In their work with hun-dreds of teams and in workshops across the country, they found that the single greatest obstacle to collaboration is a mystifica-tion about power along with the inability of many people in authority to share power. The Whiteheads define power and authority this way:l° Authority is the right to command or exercise power in relationship to the goals and values of the group. It is vested in persons (elected leaders) or in offices (specific roles/func-tions). Who or how the "vesting" occurs may be formal (appointment, election, consensus) or informal. But the social group recognizes the function of authority and the process of transferring it from one person to another. Power is the achievement or control of effects. Often it is the ability to produce a change. It may or may not coincide with authority. The Whiteheads continue: It is always present in interpersonal relationships. It is every way of exercising influence over another. One person is always subject to the power of another and no one is com-pletely without power. Power refers to the interactions among us. Finally, they say "power is best. perceived as those interac-tions that both create and threaten human community." According to the FORUS study, it is this definition of power as a resource to be shared that emerges as the dominant view of power among visionary people in religious life. The question remains: How operative is this understanding of power in religious life? In The Promise of Partnership, the Whiteheads consider that one of the primary tasks of religious leadership is to foster the transformation of our experience of power. If religious leaders genuinely exercise power in a manner consonant with the New Testament's understanding, they will use their power to welcome the power of others. They will use their role as leaders to enable those they lead to experience their shared strength in the group. As we mature in personal strength, we experience different modes of power. Early experiences and cultural influences can delay or impede our being comfortable with more mature expres-sions of power. Relying 0n David McClelland's work, the Whiteheads describe four basic orientations toward personal power--receiving power, achieving autonomy, expressing power, and sharing power. ~ May-j~une 1994 333 Ruling * Leadership a New Way Faces of Power Childhood is our basic experience of feeling strong because we are cared for and supported in our growing by our parents. When we are nurtured well, we learn to feel safe in the presence of oth-ers' power. We are empowered by this protection. Feeling empow-ered by others in this way continues into adulthood when we are strengthened by friendship, teamwork, or collaboration. I can feel comfortable receiving care and competence from others, and ][ do not have to rely entirely or only on myself. If I grew up in an unsafe environment, I learned not to trust or I remember depen-dence as demeaning and shameful. Adult experiences can also dis-appoint us and cause us to withdraw, but they are often overcome when we fall in love again or open ourselves again to a new rela-tionship. Autonomy is the strength we have on our own. In achieving autonomy we celebrate our self-reliance and self-sufficiency. Acting on nay own behalf expands my sense of power. Having developed some skills and competencies, I become an agent in my own life. Collaboration depends on my having some basic confidence in my own resources. If I lack autonomy, I will under-mine any partnership through my dependency. However, if I do not learn how to move beyond self-sufficiency, collaboration and openness to outside influence will feel like weakness, for it will imply that my own resources are deficient. Women often have difficulty in achieving autonomy unless the culture in which they function values their self-sufficiency and personal agency. Some religious communities have impeded this development in their members while others have fostered it but have not yet been able to direct this self-reliant energy back into communal projects. Expressing power turns us outward, as we begin to influence others and have an impact on our world. At this stage we feel strong when we influence the world beyond ourselves. A new sense of power stirs when we express our ideas, make demands of others, assume responsibility, take charge, and when others respond favorably. McClelland found that this orientation was prominent among management, supervisors, lawyers, and people in the helping professions. Success in all these fields depends on being able to influence the attitudes and behaviors of others. Personal assertion and social influence are the two particular resources of this power. However, these resources can be dis-played differently. Some express power exclusively in a combative 334 Review for Religious stance of competition with a need to dominate. A leader who feels strong only in this way easily becomes authoritarian. This kind of leader may function effectively in a military unit, but not as well in a helping role or in organizational leadership. !n these roles it is more appropriate to feel power-ful when motivating others, offering assistance, coordinating resources, and helping a group move toward its goals. The shadow side of this abil-ity to influence is dominance and control. Maturity lures us toward still another face of power--feeling strong in sharing power. People at this stage feel themselves to be per-sonally strong and also involved with something larger than themselves. Something beyond self-interest--the will of God, or commitment to a vision--prompts their action. They feel both powerful and empowered, strong both in autonomy and in col-laboration. These people welcome interdependence, the ability to enjoy mutual influence and mutual empowerment. When we work together the power we share increases and enhances my strength. The outcome that emerges from this interplay of interdepen-dence is less mine, yet I feel stronger because something better has resulted. Genuine interdependence is possible only if a significant num-ber of the members of religious communities mature to this fourth level of power. The hierarchical church, in its current exercise of power, shares power minimally. One group is authorized to express power and another group, namely the laity, receives it. If actual partnership is to flourish in the ecclesial community, we need an abundance of religious leaders who value sharing power and who are not threatened by widening the sources of influence. Much of the governance journey in religious life for women has been toward this mode of sharing power. The old way of lead-ership is not capable of fostering the full religious'maturity of its members. A single charismatic leader can function in level three If actual partnership is to flourish in the ecclesial community, we need an abundance of religious leaders who value sharing power and who are not threatened by widening the sources of influence. May-June 1994 335 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way of this schema, but that requires the entire group to submit to that individual charism. I believe the gifts of grace and discern-ment are distributed both more broadly and more abundantly than that. If we truly believe that our charisms live in all of us, that God's spirit releases an outpouring of energy and power, then sharing power is the only style of religious leadership that has the flexibility and openness to engage in the discernment of these movements. Healing the Wounds of Authority The FORUS study critiques dysfunctional religious leader-ship in many religious communities. I understand that much of this dysfunction is a manifestation of incomplete adult ddvelop-ment. For authentic interdependence and collaboration to be pos-sible, those in leadership must be committed to continuing their own development and to fostering the development of their mem-bers. Healing the wounds of authority is often an integral part of the process.12 The Whiteheads describe a continuum of growth in our per-spective about authority. It moves from the perception that power and authority are completely external to ourselves to the percep-tion that we confer authority in partnership with others for com-mon goals. Women in religious life stand all along the continuum. The way authority used to be exercised was coercive. A large part of our individual and corporate journey through renewal has involved deconstructing coercive authority and either avoiding the question of authority altogether (hence not a few resistant women in our midst) or constructing an entirely new way of exer-cising it. Briefly, the Whiteheads portray the function of authority as expanding life, making power more abundant, and calling others to collaborative partnership. However, many of us find ourselves unable to respond to this adult invitation to share power. We per-sist in viewing authority as external to ourselves, with those in authority holding on to power as a permanent and privileged pos-session to be used as they see fit. This kind of authority makes us feel like either children or victims, vulnerable and liable to be hurt when we interact with authority. We project onto our lead-ers impossible expectations, [equiring them to be all things to all people. We treat them as different from us, more knowledgeable, 336 Review for Religious more wise, more talented. Such projection masks our irresponsi-bility and delays our process of maturing. A more mature approach to authority views leaders very much as we view ourselves. We hope they are competent, but we under-stand that they have no special access to wisdom. They, too, are limited, fallible, susceptible to bias and error. No longer something leaders do to us, authority becomes relativized and results in a sense of partnership. Rather than benefi-ciaries, victims, or observers, we become participants with leaders in shaping the best decisions. How do we heal the wounds of authority? Transformation begins, according to the Whiteheads, whenever a crisis causes us to examine behavior that no longer works, whether it he avoidirig authority, fighting it, or trying to win its approval. The process moves through the successive stages of withdrawal, disbelief, self-scrutiny, and authority-making. In withdrawal I recognize that I have put authority outside myself and retreat to an inner place. My external behavior may not change much, hut basically I ignore authority and its claims on me. In the stage of disbelief, I realize that I am more than what authority thinks of me. My sense of self and self-worth no longer depends on external authority. This stage may begin as rebel-lion--" Who says this is the way things are?" I question how things are and think about how things could or should be. I recognize that how things are is often merely the way those in power have decided they should be, sometimes benefiting the leaders more than anyone else. The risk of disbelief is that it can harden into skepticism that rejects all exercise of authority. I can be preoc-cupied with exposing the faults and failings of those in authority when I do not yet see myself as an equal. The stage of self-scrutiny allows me to recognize how I have participated in maintaining coercive authority all along, whether by elevating those in authority, attacking them, or blaming them for things for which I am also responsible. I become able to ask We project onto our leaders impossible expectations, requiring them to be all things to all people. Such projection masks our irresponsibility and delays our process of maturing. May-June 1994 337 Ruling ¯ Leadership a New Way the critical question: When is the influence of external authority-- a leader, a value system, a set of laws--legitimate in my life? A cer-tain level of intellectual and emotional maturity is required in order to respond freely, neither compulsed to negate these demands nor anxious to satisfy a hidden motive. I understand that, as I have contributed to my own oppression, I can participate in my own empowerment. When I can exercise my personal power in response to author-ity both by taking initiative and obeying, I have reached the stage of authority-making. At this stage, I am able to face conflict if nec-essary in the pursuit of a common purpose. This is possible only after I have recognized my prior negative contribution through fear, apathy, or magical thinking. The Whiteheads caution that one cannot wait until this stage is completed; even conscious of wounds and the continuing process of healing, I need to be engaged as a partner in authority.13 The unhealed wounds of authority are frequently the unac-knowledged agenda when leaders and members experience tension between individualism and the common good. Authority will be interpreted and experienced differently depending on the level of healing and the vision of exercising power espoused by each religious. If leaders can encourage communities to begin to heal the wounds of authority and if the majority of the members can endure the pain of growth in this developmental process to become capable of sharing power, our communities will be very different. Both leaders and members will be partners in codis-cernment, as both respond to the ever changing call to be shaped by and to express in life and ministry their shared charism and discipleship of Jesus. According to the FORUS study, outstanding women leaders were extremely active in securing the commitment of the group to appropriate actions or decisions. They used their positional and personal power to influence outcomes, but not at the cost of diminishing the sharing of power in the group. Further they tended "to encourage participation of those they lead, share power and information with them, and enhance their self-worth and energize them." ~4This style of leadership has been pioneered largely by women in a variety of settings as well as in religious life. Clearly, one of the gifts religious women can offer the church is the healing of our wounds of authority and our growth in sharing power, thereby releasing the power of God's spirit in our midst. 338 Review for Religious Notes ~ David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, "Research Executive Summary: Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22 (24 September 1992): 271. 2 Ibid. 3 Ibid, p. 268. 4 Ibid, p. 271. 5 Katarina Schuth, "The Intellectual Life as a Value for Women Religious in the United States," Appendix: Survey, Brookland Commission paper, 16-18 October 1992, 10. 6 Albert Nolan, Jesus before Christianity (Maryknoll: Orbis, 1976 and 1992), p. 84. v Ibid, p. 85. 8 Kathleen Fischer, VVomen at the Well: Feminist Perspectives on Spi~qtual Direction (Mahwah: Paulist, 1988), p. 140. 9 See Jean Baker Miller, Toward a New P~chology of FVomen (Boston: Beacon, 1976 and 1986), for a full discussion of the topic women and power. ~0 Evelyn and James. Whitehead, Emerging Laity: Retm~zing Leadership to the Community of Faith (New York: Image, 1988), p. 36. ~ The description which follows is dependent on Evelyn and James Whitehead, The Promise of Partnership: Leadership and Minist~7 in an Adult Church (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1991), pp. 115-127. ~2 See "Healing the Wounds of Authority," in Promise, pp. 27-36, for the full description of this schema. ~3 It should be apparent that only in these latter two stages of self-scrutiny and authority-making is discernment possible. 14 David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, "Religious Leadership Competencies," Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May-June 1993): 413. May-June 1994 339 JANE FERDON AND GEORGE MURPHY Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark life flux ¯ he renewal of religious life over the past thirty years has generated a series of expected and unexpected results. One of the most puzzling is the persistence of darkness. Despite massive and heroic efforts to update and achieve renewal, many groups and individuals are continually deal-ing with a darkness that nothing seems to dispel. As men and women religious and bishops prepare for the Roman Synod on religious life, people will inevitably both review the transitional years since Vatican II and envision the future. They will gather and analyze data from many different perspectives. We would like to offer the perspective of spiritual direction and our experience of working as spiritual directors with men and women reli-gious.~ Theological, sociological, psychological, economic, political, and cultural perspectives all help in the under-standing of religious life. From spiritual direction we can see how people's experience of God has renewed them and how their experience of darkness, the apparent or real absence of God, has purified or stultified them. People's experiences of God in moments of light, energy, joy, and enthusiasm have received refined attention Jane Ferdon oP and George Murphy SJ are adjunct faculty at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, where they have been directing a practicum in spiritual direction. Their address is Jesuit School of Theology; 1735 LeRoy Avenue; Berkeley, California 94709-1193. 340 Review for Religious and have been deservedly relished. There are encouraging signs of new vitality in religious life: a growing freedom in people, more laughter, a refusal to be victimized, an ability to love and receive affection, a desire to know God more and share with oth-ers how God is present among us. People are taking apostolic risks and are praying regularly and contemplatively. Many are concerned with the poor and with unjust structures. People strive for integrity, some even risking their lives to protest war and nuclear arms. Others give their lives as martyrs, witnesses of God's concern for God's peo-ple. Some are willing boldly to confront evil both within the church and outside it. There are many reasons to hope. It is precisely in this context that we need to interpret dark-ness, both individually and col-lectively, to ponder its impact and to move toward light. The subject of darkness is not attrac-tive. By its very nature it can evoke self-criticism and blame. We intend neither. Our purpose is to portray people's experience and to raise some serious questions for reflection and considera-tion. We are convinced that only by scrutinizing the darkness can we be more free to enjoy the new life and energy in our midst. Then, with courage, we can pass on what we have learned to the next generation of women and men religious. Admittedly, some-times we have neither the strength nor the disposition to deal with darkness. As painful as it might be, we believe that God is calling women and men religious and the church not only to look at the light but also to discern the darkness. Experiences of darkness are only beginning to be probed and 'mined.z Our thesis is that sometimes darkness is holy; God is present and waiting in the darkness. This is the dark night of There are encouraging signs of new vitality in religious life: a growing freedom in people, more laughter, a refusal to be victimized, an ability to love and receive affection, a desire to know God more and share with others how God is present among us. May-.~ne 1994 341 Ferdon and Murphy * Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark senses or of spirit that Teresa and John of the Cross perceptively explored for their times and now needs contemporary examina-tion. 3 Another darkness, however, is unholy because God is not present in the abyss. This darkness is destructive rather than cre-ative. It is the realm of the prince of darkness, a darkness that needs to be named and avoided or robbed of its hold. In prayer as in life many women and men religious have expe-rienced both forms of darkness; but how do we discern the dif-ference? Are some of the more stubborn blocks to the renewal of religious life examples of the power of the unholy dark? Is the future of religious life to be found only in the holy dark? Some women and men religious feel trapped in a dark place, clawing interiorly to be set free, wanting to find a way out of dreary con-trolled maintenance, making work their escape and ministry a substitute for a vital relationship with God. For more than a few, religious life as it is does not satisfy; church life as it is does not satisfy. The experience is one of darkness. One woman religious who had served many years in admin-istration described her experience of darkness this way: There is no doubt that religious life is in transition. Many men and women religious feel something is missing in reli-gious life. We sometimes sense it in liturgies, at meetings, in group assemblies, in discussions. We go away hungry. Something deep within is left unsatisfied. So we try harder, photocopy more papers, quote more authors, add more meetings, review statistics, hire consultants. We multiply information, yet increasingly remain dissatisfied and weary. Deep within we sense something is missing still. We assume it is the times, the culture, the lack of leadership or the apa-thy of membership. Vocations continue to decline. The membership's vitality is diminishing. It is a telling situa-tion. How do we read its message? A male religious who is a college psychologist described his experience: There are signs that religious life is dying or at least seri-ously sick. There are too many unhappy persons, unhappy communities, and unhappy work situations in religious life today. One needn't look far to find depression, codepen-dence, anesthetized feelings, controlled conversations. While one sees many people who work hard, often to the point of burnout, their work has a joylessness about it. No matter how much one does, it seems never to be enough. One sees too many men and women religious who do not 342 Review for Religious have much joy in living. Some clothe their depression with false piety and pious clichds. Others become TV addicts. Some have become drug addicts. They misuse prescriptive medication or alcohol. Many practice massive denial. They think everything is fine or would be if we prayed more or were more cheerful. Few people are entering; some are still leaving or staying because it is too late in life to begin again. Those who stay in religious life are aging. Even our efforts at renewal seem short lived, using bandages and patent medicine. A devil chased out, the house left empty, new devils take up housekeeping.4 If we liken this period of transition in religious life to wan-dering in the wilderness (a "desert experience"), some dynamics become clear. It can be an exodus from what oppresses to what frees, or it can be an endless exile in the wilderness. We must dis-tinguish whether there is movement forward or paralysis. Are we simply wandering in circles? Many in religious life feel an oppres-sion of spirit. What used to work no longer fits the present real-ity. It is a time of letting go, yet there is a fear of losing precious valuables,s We know we cannot go back, yet we have grave diffi-culty moving forward. Perhaps our renewal has not reached the depth of genuine conversion. We may be stuck in a desert place, tired of the journey, helpless in finding direction, and discour-aged about our future. In this desert experience of transition, it becomes critical to notice the difference between honest disenchantment and crip-pling disillusionment. Many forget that disenchantment can be the beginning of a positive experience. "The point is that disen-chantment, whether it is a minor disappointment or major shock, is the signal that things are moving into transition. At such times we need to consider whether the old view or belief may not have been an enchantment cast on us in the past to keep us from see-ing deeper into ourselves and others than we were ready to. For the whole idea of disenchantment is that reality has many layers, each appropriate to a phase of intellectual and spiritual develop-ment. The disenchantment experience is the signal that the time has come to look below the surface of what has been thought to be so.''6 Are we unknowingly prolonging our transition because we fear being disloyal to the past by recognizing some of its limits? Would we rather prolong the exile than move to a deeper level of honesty or confront the darkness? "The disenchanted person recognizes the old view as suffi- May-June 1994 343 Ferdon and Murphy * Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark cient in its time, but insufficient now.''7 The disillusioned person simply rejects the earlier view. While the disenchanted person moves on, the disillusioned person stops and goes through the same play or pattern again. Many in religious life remain disillu-sioned rather than disenchanted. There is no real movement from ending to beginnings. So patterns are repeated. One changes one's ministry, school, or parish and never goe~ through the interior process of ending to begin. There are no good-byes. There is no letting go. A priest takes the "geographical cure" and moves to another university or parish only to be hounded by the same issues and behavior, but with a different cast of characters. A sister switches ministry. She leaves grade school teaching, tries pastoral care, goes away for a renewal program, begins a theology degree, and lands in a parish facing the same internal dynamics only in a different set of circumstances. Disillusionment grows. A sense of failure increases. There are many reasons to be afraid. Our fears can be para-lyzing. The crucial discernment is whether God is inviting us into the dark. If so, what are the indications of God's invitation? The danger is that we just presume either that darkness is a reality or that God is welcoming us into the darkness when neither is true. When God asks us to look at the dark, God will be present with us. God's presence may not make the dark less dark, but God's presence assures us that we are not alone. In the unholy dark, God is not present. We often get preoccupied with negative voices. An accusatory voice convinces us that we must save our-selves, and we know that is hopeless. Evil asserts its fascination. We step into the darkness alone and meet chaos. Frequently this same dynamic asserts itself in prayer. For instance, one fears the God who will ask too much, the God who demands great suffering from those who are faithful. Thus, the focus of one's reflections becomes the possible forms of suffer-ing rather than dialogue with God. The accompanying affect is naturally negative: fear, anxiety, worry, stress. Often there is guilt and a loss of self-esteem: "Why is it I cannot do what God wants?" Notice what is really happening: the person is preoccupied with the anticipated suffering, not with God. Has God asked for suf-fering, or is it what we assume God wants? Moreover, does one then avoid the God who asks too much by evading prayer? Instead there may be a dangerous substitute for prayer: reflection on self and what one is unable to do rather than asking God what God Review for Religious wants or telling God of one's fears and worries. Prayer becomes unattractive, Unfortunately, so does God. In place of evoking the presence of God and feeling the security of an abiding presence, prayer becomes a reflection on one's fears. What spirit led us to this quagmire? As fears multiply and resentments fester, even the desire for prayer fades. Sadly, this desolation can go on for years as one comes to resent the God whom we think of as asking the impossible. Perhaps the question we must ask ourselves both individually and collectively is: Have we lost some-thing of a sacred focus? What if it is a divine focus that is missing? Men and women religious frequently claim that rarely does our conversa-tion reach the level of the holy: the moments when a reverent silence fills us, the sense that God is near, not because of a timeless theological assumption, but because of a present shared experience. Is it this elo-quence of the holy that is missing? Is it this level of engagement we can-not seem to reach? The disciples and our spiritual ancestors bonded and dreamed; they boldly proclaimed God's word because they talked among themselves of their encounters with and memories of the holy. Do we? Are we fear-ful, anxious or embarrassed? What if there is no real experience of God? What if others ridicule what is deepest within? What if one has to admit it has been a long, long time since God and I really communicated, not just through rote prayer or disciplined meditation, but by genuine, engaging talk---listening, speaking, feeling, discerning--earthy God-talk. We assume that something is God's will. Rarely do we wres-tle long enough with God's word to know what God really wants. Often we are unable to identify and face our own deepest desires. It is a frightening business to feel underneath the feelings, to ponder something long enough to get to the root emotion. The irony is that sometimes it is easier to acknowledge the depth of feeling than to endure the tiring mechanisms of avoidance. It is no Often we are unable to identify and face our own deepest desires. It is a frightening business to feel underneath the feelings, to ponder something long enough to get to the root emotion. May-.l~une 1994 345 Ferdon and Murphy ¯ Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark wonder we have lost a genuine spiritual fluency. Perhaps it is a clue to why we wander in circles rather than move forward. Thus we prolong the transition. Moreover, in our frustration we can make another or others the enemy rather than going more deeply into a conscious examination of our primary relationship, our indi-vidual relationship with God. How much time, attention, thought, affect, dialogue, and development does this relationship get in my day, week, month? Is it really primary? If it is not, what is primary and why? Did something get lost? Can it be found, renewed, enlivened? Who got distracted? To borrow again from the exodus experience: Have we lost sight of the cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night (Ex 13:21- 22)? As a result, do we turn inward with murmuring, grumbling, and accusation (Ex 14:11-12)? Do we feel the disillusionment and strain? As many older men and women religious explain, "This is not the community I entered." We want to tui'n back, not in con-version but out of reluctance. Perhaps we cannot see what is ahead because our backward look prevents us. A woman therapist who sees many men and women religious observed: "Many religious are desperate: body work, crystals, cen-tering prayer, dance, Eastern philosophy, psychotherapy, twelve-step programs, dream work, even hypnosis and psychics have been tried as means to greater peace. The tragedy is that often the means becomes the primary focus. The divine gets lost in the search; searching becomes an end." We become the doers, for-getting that another is there with us, the one to wtiom we are committed by vows. Then we begin consciously or unconsciously to accomplish our own redemption. The Redeemer is forgotten, not deliberately, not consciously, not entirely, but somehow God becomes a distant figure or shadowy image, definitely out of focus, perhaps a memory. Yet, without this presence and this power, there can be no real vision. No wonder we sense something is missing. Someone might be missing, One without whom we can-not move forward. Individual experiences become the dynamic of the group. Often at community or congregational meetings and assemblies there is a clearly defined role for facilitators so that the group process is efficient and the stated objectives are met. Seldom is the same authority given to the spiritual dynamics operative in any group process where men and women religious gather. At times, the belief that God is everywhere becomes an unconscious cover- 346 Review for Religious up for a lack of the divine perspective or an abdication of spiritual responsibility. It can be a form of resistance too. Is there more fear or more freedom in the group? Are there indications of a holy or unholy spirit? Are these named and identified? Which gets more developed. Why have the spiritual dynamics operative in any religious group not been given equal emphasis? One does not wish to propose false piety: the "God will provide" rationale for avoidance. However, we must be wary of an administrative, eco-nomic, or psychological reduc-tionism. Who watches, identifies, articulates the movements or countermovements of the spirit in general chapters? Is it a con-cern? How much time, discus-sion, reflection, or debate is this crucial factor given? Do we assume that all we do is blessed and good, making discernment unnecessary? Are our governing bodies more task- or discern-ment- oriented? If the former, is this one reason we seem so often to repeat patterns? Do we scrutinize the spiritual implications as carefully as we do the financial ones? Do we endure less freedom by letting outside influences rather than spiritual profundities dictate most of our decisions? Do we leave room for the spirit to speak, or do we simply presume or even pretend that we are all speaking in the same tongue? Do we then consider those who disagree misfits? It is worth remembering that, whenever there is no dialogue, there is a breach of freedom. Of course, one can agree to dis-agree, provided one has been heard--but in many congregations many voices are silent. This silence speaks. Can we listen to the silence? Sometimes we are afraid. Besides, the tasks need to get done. Our social analysis must move on to the next phase. The danger is that the tasks do get done, but not always satisfactorily. The initial peace or relief that the job was accomplished does not bear fruit. Too frequently the very same issues come back to haunt us. That experience demands a refined discernment of spirits, not At times, the belief that God is everywhere becomes an unconscious cover-up for a lack of the divine perspective or an abdication of spiritual responsibility. May-June 1994 347 Ferdon and Murphy ¯ Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark just reworded policies. If we were collectively to allow the deeper issues to emerge from a time of discernment, we might face very different topics in our chapters and assemblies and our spiritual governance. Do we tend to look at what we can control? Often the Spirit will introduce us to what is beyond our control. This can be cause for delight or cause for fear, which can of itself be a grace-filled revelation. In this desert experience of transition, we must check where have we built our altars: what are we worshiping? On the exodus journey there were two collections in the desert. In one God asks the people for gold to build a sanctuary that God might dwell in their midst (Ex 25:1-9). The other occurred because of a long delay. The Israelites became impa-tient with Moses, and so they contributed their valuables towards the making of a golden calf. Where are our valuables going? To discern a group's focus and leadership is not a luxury; it is a mat-ter of life and death. To choose life is to have God dwelling among us. This choice comes out of freedom. To choose death is to cre-ate our own god, to guarantee our own future. This choice comes out of impatience and disillusionment. The first heralds a sacred beginning; the second repeats a sinful ending not much different from the pyramid building that was supposedly abandoned, an apt example of disillusionment's repetition of patterns. God bids "a collection from the heart" (Ex 25:1). Where are our hearts calling us? Can we let go of old ways to begin anew? It is imperative to explore the darkness. If it is holy, then there is a presence in the darkness. We are in a safe place, and there is a reason we have been beckoned there. Perhaps a vision will emerge. If it is unholy dark, then we must flee the desola-tion. The dark mood that many men and women religious expe-rience can be a developing spirituality. It is time to go deeper; even if we must first address fear or reluctance. Nonetheless, there is an attraction or longing. Reluctance can be a form of darkness. Depression can sometimes be a side effect. Whether the darkness is a form of the dark night or a stubborn paralysis of spirit needs thoughtful attention as well as careful delineation. To explore the darkness is not an optional task; it is a spiritual mandate. However much good therapy has done for many men and women religious, it can still become a substitute for intimacy, for community, and even for God. It is a contemporary irony that authority is sometimes given to therapists that would never be given to religious superiors or confessors. If the darkness is pri- 348 Review for Religious marily psychological, then one must use therapeutic tools. But what if the darkness is primarily spiritual and the depression a side effect? Is this issue being sufficiently addressed? There is no doubt about the spiritual side effects of depression, but what about the possibility that the current mood among many women and men religious is a form of spiritual desolation or even a form of consolation that goes unrecognized because of the awful sense of empti-ness? The helps for relieving depression might be quite different from the remedy for desolation. Certainly one wants to pursue ther-apy if the darkness in prayer results from psychological blocks or bio-chemical factors. If this darkness is spiritual desolation, however, then an active spiritual response and practical spiritual directives are called for. If the darkness is an exodus leading to something more, then it is consoling. If it amounts to going around in circles, it is frustrating, purposeless, and diminishing. Moreover, fidelity to it is a sham. Discerning the darkness is not only an individual task, but also a collective one. Depression or darkness of spirit can lead to self-absorption or self-transcendence. To know the difference affects the individual, the religious group, and the church. Therefore, one must figure out the source of the dark mood, the imp behind the affect. To mistakenly endure an unholy dark as a dark night of the senses or spirit is abusive and destructive, not purgative. Darkness's fruits also deserve attention. Sometimes what is most obvious is overlooked. For instance, do we leave congrega-tional meetings or gatherings feeling empty, down, or frustrated? Do we feel marginalized or disengaged? Or is our experience joy-ful and revitalizing? Do we feel closer to God and so awed by the Spirit that our prayer is renewed and our ministry energized? Do most of the members feel the same? Again, do we pause and reflect about and then discuss which spirit seems to be dominating the group? If we are on holy ground, we leave one another's com-pany enriched. Or is something lacking? Despite contact with To mistakenly endure an unholy dark as a dark night of the senses or spirit is abusive and destructive, not purgative. May-June 1994 349 Ferdon and Murphy ¯ Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark friends, and gratitude for companionship and laughter with them, is smnething of the sacred absent? It is essential to name that absence lest we bless what is not holy. Religious life as we have known it may be ending, but what about the beginning? If we have failed to negotiate our own indi-vidual transitions, how can we begin to face the group transition? Do we feel heavily burdened? What must we let go of? In-betweenness does not have to last forever. Prolonging the pain only adds to the interior paralysis or feeling of numbness that all-too-many women and men religious experience. Endings are not without sequels, but unless interior conversion takes place no beginnings occur, only *eactions to endings, whether denial, avoid-ance, defensiveness, escape, or repression. How do we begin again? Do we want to do so? We have to acknowledge our pain and voice it to God. We must feel its hold and then move beyond its control to where we can join in a gathering to celebrate survival and new life. We should not let our moaning and grumbling get misplaced and do harm. Transition is the time to ask hard questions, not only of ourselves but also of God. Have we voiced our pain in prayer? Is God with us? What is God communicating? Is God the focus of our gatherings? Are we more lost than we realized? Are we in relationship with God and also in dialogue? What is God saying to us? Is there something we must let go of?. Transition teaches us to get along with less. It removes distractions. Until we discern the darkness, it has a coercive and discour-aging hold. Like a small cancer it can grow undetected until it is too late to cure. Then surgery will not help. What "cancer" might underlie a perhaps subtle but still debilitating lethargy? Our great-est danger is to become numbly resigned to the someday inevitable death of religious life and then stabilize our fear, misplace our anger, distract our anxiety, and live in denial. Religious life is not meant to be endured; it exists for the sake of celebration now and eternally. Unless religious are free enough to name darkness, can-didly, low-grade despair and frenetic avoidance are bound to grow. People close their eyes and shut down to survive. Involvement, activity, ministry become the substitute for contemplation, not the result of contemplation nor food for it. What is really hap-pening is rarely talked about, and thus power is given to the secret. And those who dare to bring up the subject of darkness are quickly judged to be either critical of leadership or disloyal to member- 350 Review for Religious ship and then marginalized by other people's pattern of denial. When denial dictates, dialogue dies. The prince of darkness is empowered, and a divine focus is missed again. The issue is about neither leadership nor criticism; the issue is about neither membership nor loyalty. The issue is that the divine play of light is being overshadowed. In naming the darkness, we allow the light to play, the ligh~ that would illumine all we do, the light that would lighten our lives and allow us even in darkness to be con-fident because the gentle Presence of Mystery reveals that we are indeed on holy ground. Notes ~ We acknowledge our debt to William Barry and William Connolly, The Practice of Spiritual Direction (New York: Seabury, 1982), and to the people at the Center for Religious Developinent; they have had a major impact on our practice of spiritual direction. 2 For a succinct treatment of how darkness appears in directed retreats, see William J. Connolly sJ, "Experiences of Darkness in Directed Retreats," Review For Religious 33, no. 4 (July-August 1974): 609-615. Reprinted in Notes on the Spiritual Exercises, ed. David L. Fleming SJ, (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1981), pp. 108-114. 3 See Constance FitzGerald's "Impasse and Dark Night" in Living with Apocalypse, ed. Tilden Edwards (New York: Harper and Row, 1984), pp. 94ff. Sandra Schneiders IHM also develops this theme in "Contemporary Religious Life: Death or Transformation," a paper given in Hartford, Connecticut, in 1992 and presented at a faculty colloquium at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley in 1993. 4 For the viewpoint of another psychologist on some unhealthy dynam-ics in religious communities, see Charles Shelton, "Reflections on the Mental Health of Jesuits," in Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 23, no. 4 (September 1991), and a companion article by the same author, "Toward Healthy Jesuit Community," in Studies 24, no. 4 (September 1992). s It is worth while to review Gerald A. Arbuckle's thesis "that a major reason for the reluctance or hesitation of religious congregations, parishes, and dioceses to attempt renewal is their failure to mourn or ritually detach themselves from that which is lost or no longer apostolically relevant. Energy that should be directed toward creating the future is instead spent on efforts to restore or retain that which is lost or dying." See "Organizations Must Ritually Grieve," in Human Development 12 (spring 1991): 22. 6 William Bridges, Transitions (Reading, Mass.: AddisonWesley, 1980), p. 101. 7 Ibid. May-June 1994 351 GERALD A. ARBUCKLE Merging Provinces "May they be so perfected in unity that the world will recognize that it was you who sent me." --John 17:23 Tdre is a trend within the church today for both institutions apostolates to merge: congregations and provinces of congregations, schools and hospitals. Various pragmatic and inspi-rational reasons are given, such as using personnel and finances more effectively for mission. Yet the actual merging commonly fails to meet expectations because people do not appreciate that mergers demand far more than a rearrangement of administra-tions. The contemporary struggle to unite East and West Germany aptly illustrates the point. When institutions seek to combine, they interact as cultures, and the resulting change is not a bloodless abstraction, but a high order of human drama. This introductory article views, from a cultural anthropologi-cal perspective, the merging of congregational provinces--though the theory applies to any organization. Case studies illustrate the theory, and then I suggest some guidelines for use in practice. First we examine what management studies have learned about the mergers of business corporations. Though religious commu-nities are not businesses, they are nonetheless human organiza-tions or cultures. They can learn from the experience of other human organizations that amalgamate,t Gerald A. Arbuckle SM continues to write, lecture, and conduct work-shops on the refounding of religious life. His address is Refounding and Pastoral Development Unit; 1 Mary Street; Hunters Hill; Sydney, N.S.W. 21 I0; Australia. 352 Review for Religious Lessons from the Marketplace The literature on business amalgamations is filled with dreary warnings about the negative effects of mergers. Management con-sultant Tom Peters concludes that "most studies suggest that, in general, [business] mergers do not pan out.''2 Rather than increased profitability, mergers have come to be associated with lowered morale, job dissatisfaction, unpro-ductive behavior, sabotage, petty theft, absenteeism, and increased labor-turnover, strike, and accident rates.3 Management consultant Stuart Slatter advises that the merger of firms "rarely brings increased effi-ciencies, unless accompanied by sound post-merger management. In fact, inefficiencies may actually increase as . divisive splits develop within the new top-management team as each manager retains loyalties to his of change. former business.''4 James O'Toole speaks of the contemporary stress on business amal-gamations as "merger-mania." He says that "the desire of large industrial bodies to merge is insatiable" and that the purpose and strategies for such actions are rarely thought through.5 Charles Handy warns that organizations contemplating merger are "to some extent stuck with their past., their traditions. These things take years if not decades to change.''6 Some authors wonder if the drive for merg-ers comes from authoritarian, patriarchal values dominant in Western society. These values, they claim, blind organizations to feminine values of creativity, of openness to other ways of coop-eration than formal mergers.7 Overall, most commentators conclude that mergers fail because leaders insufficiently consider the human or cultural dimensions of change. In addition to sensitive leadership there must be, authors claim, a cultural compatibility (or what is termed "culture fit") between organizations that seek to merge. If there is insufficient culture fit, then cultural collisions will destroy efforts to merge organizations.8 Anthropologists agree with these conclusions. But they com-plain that, when management writers (with the exception of peo-ple like Edgar Schein) use the term culture, they fail to grasp the complexity of its meaning. They think culture is what people vis- Mergers fail because leaders insufficiently consider the human or cultural dimensions May-3~ne 1994 353 Arbuckle ¯ Merging Provinces ibly do,9 and they fail to consider what they feel about what they do. People may act in the same way, yet differ radically in their cultures, simply because they do not feel the same about what they do. Feelings (expressed in symbols and myths) are at the very heart of cultures, but are far more difficult to name and control than visible actions. A good many authors--for example, Gerard Egan--see culture as but one of many variables in organizations;1° Peter Senge does not refer to it at all.11 Culture is not one facet of life nor merely what people visi-bly do; rather, it is the complete set of feelings affecting, most often unconsciously, all of a specific behavior pattern of individ-uals and groups. Examples are an organization's interiorized system of authority, its modes of communication, its understanding of mis-sion and stratdgies?z Leaders ignore culture at their peril. People may change with relative ease what they visibly do, especially under external pressure; not so their feelings!13 Anthropology Applied Anyone concerned about mergers of institutional cultures must be awai'e of four fundamental insights of applied cultural anthropology. First, cultures have lives of their own, just as indi-vidual~ do. So we rightly say, for example, that cultures grieve or are depressed, are open or closed to creative ideas. Certainly, individuals influence the life of a culture, but the reverse is also true. Sdcond, any cultural change, even for the noblest of rea-sons, is stressful for the people involved. A culture provides peo-ple with a much needed sense of order or security; it is a defense against the anxiety that disorder or the fear of chaos evokes. When cultures interact this felt sense of security is threatened or under-mined; people feel uprooted, losE, disillusioned, angry, sad. Fears and prejudices about the culture with which they must now inter-act come to the surface. Third, people are likely to resist change for one of two rea-sons: the loss of the known and tried, or concern over the impli-cfitions of personal and group loss. Cultural interaction inevitably calls people to new ways of acting; the familiar must be left behind. Hence, any effort to merge cultures leads to varying degrees of overt or underground resistance. Reactions to cultural change in individuals can build up and then explode in ways that appear totally out of proportion to the provocation of the moment. 354 Review for Religious The resistance has merely been deferred and stockpiled; people finally reach a breaking point and express it dramatically. Fourth, the effort to merge cultures is a highly complex and risky pro-cess demanding the leadership of humanly and culturally sensitive and skilled change agents. Without such help people will so resist the change process that mergers falter or fail. The following axioms sum-marize the practical implica-tions of these four points for leaders of would-be mergers: 1. Appreciate the Complexity of Cultures I explain elsewhere in some depth the nature of culture.~4 For our purposes here, how-ever, culture is a pattern of shared values enshrined in a network of symbols, myths, and rituals and created or devel-oped by a particular group as it copes with life's challenges, instructing its members about what it considers the correct way to feel, think, and behave25 Rituals (that is, visible behavior) are the concrete expression of symbols and myths; symbols are experienced or felt meanings. A myth, a set of narrative symbols, is a story or tradition that claims to reveal to people, in an imaginative way, a fundamental truth about the world and themselves. This truth is considered author-itative by those who accept it. In short, myths inspiringly or feel-ingly tell people who they are, what is good and bad, and how they are to organize themselves and maintain their feeling of unique identity in the world. The most powerful myth in every culture is its creation myth, since it provides people with their primary source of identity as a distinct group.~6 Vv~hen the creation myth's existence is threat-ened-- for example, when major cOltural change is being planned or underway--people experience degrees of anxiety, anger, numb-ness, sadness. Various kinds of creation myths affect people in different times and ways. Three of the kinds can be termed the public, the operative, and the residual myths: Myths inspiringly or feelingly tell people who they are, what is good and bad, and how they are to organize themselves and maintain their feeling of unique identity in the world. May-ff-une 1994 355 Arbuckle * Merging Provinces ¯ The public myth is a set of stated ideals that people openly claim binds them together (like the values inherent in the charism of a congregation); in practice these ideals may have little if any cohesive force. ¯ The operative myth, however, is what actually at this point gives people their felt cohesive identity; the operative myth can and often does differ dramatically from the public myth. ¯ The residual myth normally has little or no daily impact on a group's life, but at times can become a powerful operative myth. For example, a former colonial nation will commonly have a resid-ual myth reminding the people of their former dependency on, or oppression by, a dominant European power. If a member of the former country inter'acts with someone from the latter nation, he or she may experience bitter memories of past colonial relation-ships. Then the painful residual myth becomes the operative myth, creating a climate of suspicion and antagonism. The case studies below illustrate the relevance of the above theoretical clarifications, because .proposed amalgamations of provinces inevitably demand changes in existing creation myths. 2. Encourage "Multicultural" Mergers Mergers are not synonymous with takeovers, that is, the total assimilation of other cultures by dominant cultures. True merg-ers recognize the need for dialogue between equals, so that the best of all cultures is preserved in the new emerging organiza-tional culture. 17 3. Arrange for Rituals of Grieving Change causes loss, and all loss evokes a wide range of human emotions: anger, sadness, guilt. These emotions must be ritually expressed and let go of; otherwise they remain repressed and obstruct change. Since individuals and cultures grieve over loss, these rituals must be personal- and culture-oriented.18 4. Seek Culturally Transformative Leadership Leaders must have skills for guiding people through the uncertainties, anxieties, and risks of cultural change.19 Without these rare people, cultural change of a positive kind is impossible. Case Studies: Merging Provinces Case Study 1: An Overefficient General Administration A general administration decided that three provinces should be amalgamated into one province. No problems were anticipated because 356 Review for Religious the administration believed that the reasons for the amalgamation were obvious to all and that the commitment to the congregational charism was greater than to provincial boundaries. The administration explained to the assembled provincials the major reason for the decision: a better use of human and financial resources for mission. On returning to their respective provinces, however, the provincials, who had been convinced by the arguments given them, were surprised to receive immediate neg-ative reactions from their provinces. The provincial administrations then procrastinated for so long that the general administration finally withdrew its decision, blaming the provincials for their lack of courageous leadership. Comment: The general adminstration's decision may have been theoretically correct, but the process of decision making took no account of the provinces as cultures. The decision to merge, taken without adequate consultation, evoked group and individual anx-iety and resistance because people felt that the operative myths of their provinces, giving them felt predictability, were jeopardized. The general administration wrongly assumed that the congrega-tional charism was simultaneously the public and operative myth. On the contrary, the majority of the religious felt closer bonds to their respective provinces than to the congregational charism. Case Study 2: From Euphoria to Provincial "Nationalisms" Three provincial administrations decided to explore the possibility of merging their provinces. An assembly, attended by as many members of all three provinces as possible, enthusiastically endorsed the idea in a vision statement that highlighted the common charism as the unifying force. Thereupon the provincial administrations quickly planned the formal merger. But to their surprise they later received so little cooper-ation from members of the provinces that they finally dropped the entire idea. Comment: An investigation showed that while the religious were together the public myth (that is the congregational charism-based myth) became the operative myth; they enjoyed being together socially as members of one congregation. However, they avoided the pain of looking closely at what they would have to let go of once the merger occurred; they felt the common con-gregational vision would carry them through. On return to their home provinces, the religious recognized what the merger would cost them, and the support for amalgamation rapidly declined; their respective provincial operative myths were revitalized. Quotations from the founder originally assented to in support of May-June 1994 357 Arbuckle * Merging Provinces the merger were now contradicted by other quotations from the same source. Case Study 3: Fearsof Colonialism Revived An administration of a province in the first world explored the pos-sibility of merging with a province in a third-world nation. It argued that the amalgamation would be beneficial to both provinces. The rich province could supply much-needed money to the third-world province; the latter, having a surplus of vocations, could "export" religious to the former. The proposal was immediately and angrily resisted by the poorer province--to the surprise and annoyance of its richer counterpart. Comment: This case study illustrates that a province's iden-tity or mythology can be influenced powerfully by forces beyond a congregation's internal history. The third-world nation had for over a century been a colony of the first-world country. Members of the third-world province sensed an arrogance in the adminis-trators of the rich province reminding them of the oppressive-ness of the colonial era. They did not want their newfound sense of national self-worth undermined by their receiving financial handouts from the richer province. They also feared that they would be administratively dominated after the merger by people from their former colonial power. In this incident the residual myth of the third-world nation became the operative myth of the province; the latter was prepared to remain extremely poor, but in control of its own destiny. Case Study 4: Fears of "Congregational Colonialism" Revived A superior general encouraged two provincial administrations to investigate the advisability of merging their provinces. The investiga-tion showed that for missionary efficiency the merger made perfect sense. However, the reactions to the proposal were so negative in one province, which had been founded several decades earlier by the other, that the plan was dropped. Comment: This case study is similar to the previous one in that the founding province is equivalently remembered as an arro-gant, congregational colonial power. That memory is the residual myth. The thought of a merger makes the residual myth the oper-ative force for identity and effectively prevents any further seri-ous discussion about merging the provinces. Case Study 5: Ethnic Differences Obstructing Amalgamation A general administration encouraged three provinces in a first-world nation to amalgamate, claiming that three separate administra-tions were a luxury the congregation could no longer afford. However, 358 Review for Religious the provincial administration disagreed, claiming that one adminis-tration could never adequately serve the large geographical area involved. Nonetheless, the merger did administratively take place, but the new administration was confronted with previously unforeseen personnel problems. For example, religious resisted requests to move to apostolates across the former provincial boundaries. Comment: The merger was failing, not for geographical rea-sons, but because the provinces were historically formed along ethnic-migrant lines: Polish, Italian, Irish. The cultural preju-dices of last century surfaced once the provinces were adminis-tratively united; that is, the residual myths became the operative myths for a significant number of religious descendants of the original migrants. If people had been involved in the develop-ment and follow-up of the merging, this critical issue would have emerged and been positively worked through. Case Study 6: Merger Plans Successful Three provincial administrations agreed with an outside consul-tant that from a mission perspective it. was essential for their provinces to amalgamate. They consulted all re.embers of their provinces, and most favored the merger. Once the merger decision was finally taken, the provincial administrations sought professional advice on how to pro-ceed. The merger was done in stages over a seven-year period, accord-ing to frequently evaluated strategies. As part of the merging process, all apostolates were assessed for their pastoral relevance and effectiveness in light of clearly stated criteria. Because all members were invited to be part of the merging and evaluating processes, negative reactions were minimal and the ownership of the changes was at a high level. Comment: In this case study the following actions guaranteed success: culturally s6nsitive leadership, aware that in-depth culture change is a slow process; professional assistance in clarifying the vision of the merger and in developing appropriate strategies; the maximum involvement of members of the provinces in all stages of the merging. Advice to Congregational Leaders The following advice is offered to congregational leaders in view of the above theory and the analysis of the case studies: 1. Clarify the Vision and the Strategies for Mergers. The primary aim of any merger of provinces must be to make the religious congregation better able to serve the needs of the May-.~une 1994 359 Arbuckle ¯ MergingProvinces kingdom of God. Thus, congregational leaders must ask ques-tions such as the following: Is the merger apostolically justified, or is it just a way to maintain existing apostolates without evalu-ating them for their apostolic relevance and effectiveness? Are there better ways, than through amalgamation, to achieve the desired effects of a merger? 2. Involve Members throughout the Process. Organizational amalgamations demand cultural change. Any cultural change, to be effective, is slow and risky, requiring as wide an involvement of members as is possible before, during, and after the formal merger. In order to own the new identity people must feel they are realistically contributing to its development. Congregational leaders, therefore, must ask themselves questions like: What structures will best encourage the maximum involve-ment of members? Are the most-skilled cultural-change agents being used to facilitate the process? 3. Foster Group and Personal Conversion-Grieving. Liminality is the cultural betwixt-and-between position which develops when a previous founding myth and its structural or political expressions have terminated, but a new creation myth has yet to be clarified and owned. It is a painfully dangerous stage of grieving because people feeling intense loss are sometimes tempted to retreat back to the old, comfortably secure ways of doing things. The journeying of the Israelites in the desert, with all its temptations to retreat to Egypt and to blame Moses for their miseries, is an archetypal experience of liminality. Moses, confronted by the Israelites' bickering, pettiness, and anger, rec-ognized that, for the people's grieving to be positive, they must have the space to name their anger and sadness in order to let these feelings go in faith and hope. Only then would the Israelites, freed from their attachments to the past, be open to receive the new creation stoW that Yahweh had for them.2° When provinces decide to merge, religious are invited to enter into the liminality of the desert journey. The old provincial creation mythologies must be let go of to allow the creation myth of a new province to emerge and be confidently owned. Congregational leaders, like Moses, must do two things: (1) encourage the religious to share the stories of their provinces with one another, together with their feelings of grief (anger, numbness) over the loss of the predictability that membership in their respective provinces had given them, and (2) call the religious 360 Review for Religious to help shape in hope the vision or founding myth of the new province. It is a call to an ongoing process of personal and cor-porate conversion. Conversion cannot be hurried, but without it .the merging of provinces will fail. 4. Utilize Cultural Change Agents and Consultants. Change agents assume the responsibility for managing the merging process. They are transformational leaders who under-stand objectively the tensions involved in the process, have acquired personal skills to cope constructively with personal and cultural change in their own lives, and are able to foster with empathy a positive approach in others to changes. In the merging of provinces, such people are needed at all levels: as congregational lead-ers, ritual-grief directors, creators of new and relevant provincial structures for mission, and so forth. Because culture change is so complex, it is advisable for con-gregational leaders to seek the advice of consultants at key points in the merging process. The con-sultant's task is to collaborate with those entrusted with the merger in developing "an understanding of the way things are, thinking about the way they might be, and then working with [them] to consider what, how, and whether to change.''2~ The consultant cannot be effective unless he or she has well-developed cross-cul-tural skills.22 The human person is a striver who yearns for progress and is theoretically open to change. But the human person also has basic needs for order, stability, and predictability. The human person is achievement oriented, a striver who yearns for progress and is therefore theoretically open to change. But the human person also has basic needs for order, stability, and predictability. Applied cultural anthropology highlights the fact that, though people may in theory accept change, in prac-tice they commonly opt for the familiar and secure status quo. May-~:une 1994 361 Arbuckle ¯ Merging Provinces This has important consequences for congregations when provinces are encouraged to merge. In the face of declining numbers and the aging of religious, we must not see the mergers of provinces as the automatic panacea to our problems. We need to be: (a) as certain as possible that the merger will improve the congregation's apostolic effective-ness in accordance with its founding vision; (b) aware that merg-ers require, besides mere managerial action at the top, ongoing personal and cultural conversion, or else, like the Israelites of old, religiou~ will resist the changes and hanker after the security of former, apostolically irrelevant provincial structures; and (c) aware that in mergers one province does not take over other provinces, but all are equal partners in establishing a new province to serve the Lord better. Ultimately, without skilled leadership there can be no positive merging of provinces. Edgar Schein warns: "What the leader most needs is insight into the ways in which culture can aid or hinder the fulfillment of the organization's mission and the intervention skills to make desired changes happen . Leadership and ~ulture management are so central to understanding organizations and making them effective that we cannot afford to be complacent about either of them.''z3 Provinces, like all cultures, are unwise to attempt the process of amalgamation, if they lack the necessary leadership. Notes ~ See C. Handy, Understanding Voluntary Organizations (London: Penguin, 1988), pp. 2-23. 2 Thriving on Chaos (New York: Mfred A. Knopf, 1987), p. 7. See also the evaluation of European mergers in The Economist (London), 20 November 1993, pp. 16f. 3 See G. Meeks, Disappointing Marriage: A Study of the Gains from Mergers (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977); S. Cartwright and C.L. Cooper, "The Psychological Impact of Merger and Acquisition on the Individual," Human Relations 46, no. 3 (1993): 327-329. 4 Corporate Recovery (London: Penguin, 1984), p. 245. s Vanguard Management (New York: Berkley, 1987), pp. 258, 250. 6 Handy, Understanding, p. 95. 7 See G. Morgan, Images of Organization (London: Sage, 1986), pp. 210-212. 362 Review for Religious s See S. Cartwright and C.L. Cooper, "The Role of Culture Compatibility in Successful Organizational Marriage," Academy of Management Executive 7, no. 2 (1993): 57-70. 9 For example, see T. Deal and A. Kennedy, Corporate Cultures: The Rites and Rituals of Corporate Life (Reading, Massachusetts: Addison- Wesley, 1982), p. 4. 10 See his Change Agent Skills in Helping and Human Service Setting (Monterey: Brooks/Cole, 1985), pp. 277-287. 11 See his Fifth Dimension: The Art and Practice of the Learning Organization (New York: Doubleday, 1990). 12 See E.H. Schein, Organizational Culture and Leadership (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1987), p. 314. ,3 See S.A. Sackman, Cultural Knowledge in Organizations: Exploring the Collective Mind (London: Sage, 1991), pp. 16-23; J. Hunt, "How People Get Overlooked in Takeovers," Personnel Management (July 1987): 24- 26, and "Managing the Successful Acquisition: A People Question," London Business School Journal (summer 1988): 215. ,4 See G. Arbuclde, Earthing the Gospek An Inculturation Handbook for the Pastoral Worker (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1990), pp. 26-78, 167-186. ,s I have modified the definition by E.H. Schein in his Organizational Culture, p. 9. ,6 See G. Arbuckle, "Mythology, Revitalization and the Refounding of Religious Life," Review for Religious 46, no. 1 (January-February 1987): 14-43. 17 See A.E Buono and J. Bowditch, The Human Side of Mergers and Acquisitions, (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1989), pp. 134-163. ,8 See P. Marris, Loss and Change (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1974), passim; G. Arbuckle, Change, Grief and Renewal in the Church: A Spirituality for a New Era (Westminster, Maryland: Christian Classics, 1991), pp. 151-156, and "Organizations Must Ritually Grieve," Human Development 12, no. 1 (1991): 22-27; D.M. Noer, "Leadership in an Age of Layoffs," Issues and Observations 13, no. 3 (1993): 1-5. 19 For a fuller explanation of the leadership needed, see G. Arbuckle, Refounding the Church: Dissent for Leadership, (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1993), pp. 98-127. 20 See G. Arbuckle, Change, pp. 151-156. 21 E. Miller, quoted by R. McLennan in Journal of Enterprise Management, no. 3 (1981), p. 251. 22 See Arbuckle, Refounding, pp. 213f, 217. 23 E.H. Schein, Organizational Culture, pp. 320, 327. May-d~une 1994 363 JUDITH ANN EBY One Voice from the Middle Place In the matter of human existence the grave and sensible advice of the King of Hearts--"Begin at the beginning" -- cannot be heeded. We have no choice but to begin where we are; and where we are is the middle. It is not given to us to stand on the far side of human time and then, with all delib-eration and grace, to enter . Our first awareness is that we are swimming. We wake in the water. Our beginnings are not wholly our own. Our endings will most likely be beyond our control. We are middle people.~ MmY reflection upon my own journey in religious life draws e to this quotation from John Shea. My entrance into religious life in 1976 was certainly a beginning. I was twenty-one, full of energy and enthusiasm as i entered this new world. Several years later, though, one event was to etch into the core of my being the awareness that I had really entered into a "middle place," a transitional moment in the life of religious communities. After final vows I attended a large assembly of my regional community where the question was asked, "Shall we plan for our future?" A resounding yes echoed immediately, logically, and enthusiastically in my being. Simultaneously an unusually intense session of debate, frustration, and dialogue began in the larger group. After what seemed to be an eternity, the group came to unanimous agreement to plan for the future and spontaneously sang the song of our foundress. Clearly, something significant Judith Ann Eby RSM is a doctoral candidate in the Department of Theological Studies at Saint Louis University. Her address is 4133 Hartford St.; St. Louis, Missouri 63116. 364 Review for Religious had taken place. I also understood for the first time that there was a dimension of the community's corporate journey of which I had no understanding. No matter how much I could intellectu-ally grasp their journey, I would never experientially be able to understand part of their lives. Although not the first of such events, it was certainly the clearest one to signal that, at some moment in time, the commu-nity had stepped into an obviously challenging world and world-view different from a former one. I now shared their new world with them. However, there seemed an almost invisible boundary which prevented me from understanding this former world that still played itself out in their collective consciousness. This invis-ible boundary seemed to be not only the actual experience of Vatican Council II, but the experience of pre-Vatican II religious life. Boundaries which mark the end of one period and the begin-ning of a new one in the life of any community or individual can be arbitrary and theoretical. While it is true that many such boundaries could be named, one moment or event often stands out as a clear crossing over from one world into another. For those within religious life at the time of the council and for those who entered near that time, Vatican II was a watershed experience. For better or for worse, life was never again the same. Joan Chittister comments on this reality: For most communities, updating has been the project and process of religious life for 25 years. Clothing has been con-temporized; schedules have been adjusted to compensate for the invention of the light bulb; internal structures have been brought into sync with the best in organizational plan-ning; individual development has been tested by the most recent and most credible of psychological theorems; theol-ogy programs have progressed far beyond the thinking of the medievalists or the Scholastics; community customs books have been amended to meet the nature of contem-porary life. Every dimension of religious life has been scru-tinized and updated. Most of religious life is definitely not in a time warp any more, at least not if relevance is mea-sured by life styles and learnings.2 The renewal after Vatican II was a crystallizing experience which united a number of different age groups around a new interpretation of religious life.3 This focal experience, it must be emphasized, embraces the formative influence and memory of May-~'une 1994 365 Eby ¯ One l~oice from tbe Middle Place pre-Vatican II religious life as interpreted in light of the council. For more than twenty-five years, changes from the council shook the church and religious communities to their roots. Ways of thinking, ways of being, and ways of acting, an entire collective consciousness of a group, were evaluated and reshaped. It is a subdued statement, indeed, to say that such a vast alteration from one world into another has profoundly affected and continues to affect those who were part of religious life at or near the time of the council. A good number of members still form opinions, beliefs, and attitudes in response to the crystallizing experience of Vatican II. Often this leaves them less likely to understand and sympathize with the ideas and beliefs of those who came well after the council and for whom Vatican II is not a watershed expe-rience. This is not necessarily due to a lack of goodwill, yet there is a tendency for one group to judge the worldview of later age groups as misguided or immature. All worldviews are necessarily limited and contain blind spots not easily recognized by those who hold those views. One question slowly emerges from pondering such a vast alteration and its effects on those in religious life: What of those who entered religious communities years after Vatican II? What has been the experience of such members? Much has been writ-ten about the experience of those who entered religious life before and during the time of the council. Other than some articles on formation, little has been written about the experience and from the perspective of those members who remember Vatican II vaguely or not at all. Some members know only the transitional time of religious communities. My hope is to raise a single voice from this middle place so that it may be heard and contemplated and allow the reader, for just a moment, to stand in the shoes of one who has known only the period of transition and to glimpse religious life from a van-tage point relatively rare within communities. The limitation of this essay is that it is a single voice only. Its strength is that it describes a particularized experience that can be known and touched on a human level. There are several assumptions upon which this essay is based. The first is that arbitrary categories of age and experience are not meant to be divisive or to cultivate a we-they attitude. The realization is deep: we are one, many though we are. The focus on newer or younger members and their perspective is not to deny 366 R~view for Religious or diminish the legitimate experience of others. Categories do not have to be mutually exclusive. What is always of uppermost importance is the vitality of the whole group, not of any age group or of any individual. The main issue is not whether we are grow-ing older, fewer, and poorer as a total community, but whether we are growing in wisdom and clar-ity, conversion and gratitude. The second assumption is that congregations as a whole are often unaware or forgetful of the reality that a minority voice is being lost: the voice of the newer or younger members. Newer or younger members, while known individually and usually well-integrated into the larger community, are corpo-rately invisible and often unheard. They do not necessar-ily possess the same opinions, beliefs, or worldviews because great diversity often exists in terms of age and experience. Generalizations about any age group or category are simplistic at their best and crude at their worst. Many who have known Vatican II have moved to new and cre-ative developments very much in line with the renewal of the council while the thinking, beliefs, and actions of many newer or younger members is stale, noncreative, and full of fear. What is suggested here is that the experience and renewal of religious life resulting fro.m Vatican II continues to exert a formative influence upon a significant number of members while the richness and diversity of an exceptionally small population is being lost. Yet in this group are those who will be the leaders well into the 21st century. Middle places imply an ending and a beginning as well as a continuity with what went before. The human experience of end-ings and beginnings will often be bittersweet and both dark and light. Such has been my journey within my own community. It is these experiences of darkness and light, characteristic of tran-sitional moments, as well as the continuity that I want to articu-late. Congregations as a whole are often unaware or forgetful of the reality that a minority voice is being lost: the voice of the newer or younger members. May-.t~une 1994 367 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place The church and world I knew while growing up was one of constant change. Everything was in flux: the saints, liturgy, sacra-ments, music, religion class, celebrations of church feasts, parish customs, and more. Change was experienced as normal, expected, and part of what it meant to be church. The religious life I entered was in a time of transition and experimentation. It was a world defined more often by the past than by any communal vision of the future. By the time I entered, the initial hope and enthusiasm surrounding renewal in the con-gregation was beginning to give way to fear, anger, agonizing searching, split factions of liberal and conservative groups, and a cancerous doubt. Mary Jo Le.ddy ~peaks of this middle place: At this point in the history of religious life, we are in an in-between moment, a "dark night," when the former mod-els of religious life are disintegrating and a future model has yet to become clear . As the memory and vitality of this conservative model begin to fade, some of the energy and legitimation of the liberal model begin to wane. Those who have a vivid memory of the traditional model of church and religious life seem more clear about the value and sig-nificance of the liberal model of religious life. But does the liberal model make sense in itself, that is, without refer-ence to the more traditi'onal model? There are those who, like myself, never knew the traditional model or never knew it for very long. We know the liberal model was launched from the base of traditional religious life, but we are begin-ning to wonder whether there is enough fuel in the liberal model itself to take it very far. To use another metaphor, we are beginning to feel that driving a liberal model of reli-gious !ife is like driving into the future through a rear-view mirror.4 My inner experience of enthusiasm and belief in religious life often came up against contradictory elements in the community. A few of the major examples focused on the expressions of doubt, grief, and anger in the community. Doubt can be a creative ele-ment. Indeed, it is often a necessary companion on any mature journey of faith. However, the doubt I encountered was often a cancerous doubt that could eat into the core of one's being. It was often disheartening to come up against, time and time again, such cancerous doubt within many members. Grief, usually unresolved grief, was also a major issue for many in the community. It was not unusual for me to become an object of unresolved grief and anger over some former aspect of 368 Review for Religious religious life that had not been sufficiently mourned by the other. As a newer member I stood as a symbol of all that had passed away, of all that was new and unsettling. Grief, doubt, and anger intermingled in various degrees to produce within some people what I experienced as death-dealing statements. Such statements are expressed as a sigh of grief, of loss, of anxious uncertainty toward the future on the part of countless members. They are uttered in the midst of the hus-tle and bustle of life, at com-munity meetings, at times of election and moments of deci-sion, moments of reflection. The private and public acknowledgment of personal experience can be necessary for overall health. Yet it must be remembered that, for those who come at times of transition and do not share the same under-standing or knowledge of a community's history, verbal expressions can take on a particular significance. Language can shape our reality, tell us who we are and who we want to be, can uplift or demolish. A word, once it is spoken, can take on a life of its own; it can have the power to bring about that of which it speaks. At the middle places, when doubt reaches crisis proportions, language is of tremendous significance. Language, in this instance, reflected both lack of vision and lack of credible vision among the members. For older members can often communicate mixed signals to enthusiastic newer or younger members and cause a frequent cri-sis of meaning for them. It is odd but not unusual that entry into any group will always involve the unconscious or conscious assimilation of the larger group's attitudes about some things. Declining numbers was one crisis with which I had to deal. There is a basic difference between the exodus I experienced and the exodus others experienced in the 1960s. When I look ahead of me, I see lots of numbers. When I look around me, I see a handful, and we are the younger mem-bers. Around the time of final vows, I had to come to terms with Grief, doubt, and anger intermingled in various degrees to produce within some people what I experienced as death-dealing statementsl May-j~une 1994 369 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place this unconscious assimilation of the crisis of numbers. Even today, though, at moments of weakness, fatigue, and real honesty, fear can reach into the core of my being, and I begin to wonder if I will be the last one through the door. Other times, often at commu-nity gatherings, I look around the room and wonder, figuratively speaking, what it will feel like (other things being equal, which they will not be) to bury all those older than I. Numbers can still overwhelm me. Middle places, by their very nature as endings and begin-nings, possess not only elements of darkness, but elements of light as well. As a newer or younger member, I received the best of all that the community had to offer--which was possible because of all that had gone before me. Many of the community's resources of time, finances, personnel, and talents were shared with me. The best of the community's continually growing self-awareness in terms of charism, history, and spirituality encircled me. It would merely be redundant to enumerate these many experiences, work-shops, and activities, since the majority of members are already familiar with them and have themselves participated in many of them. Perhaps I had greater freedom in personal choices and deci-sions than the majority of members had upon their entrance and for a good por.tion of their religious lives. I had greater flexibil-ity in forming relationships with people both outside community and inside. I experienced great exposure to different areas, groups, cultures, and ministries in my regional community. Barbara Fiand SNDdeN, in her book Living the Vision (New York: Crossroad, 1990), discusses the dark side of this high mobility and the exces-sive amount of stress related to it. As one who lived this experi-ence and whose number of moves around my regional community exceeds the example Barbara Fiand gives on page 148, I can well attest to what she says. She does not connect to this mobility the reality that newer or younger members would be more easily exposed to the cancerous doubt of which I spoke earlier. Today I and others who have stayed in religious life perceive our com-munity as larger than the local area in which we live. We are usu-ally well-integrated into the larger community in terms of knowledge, experience, and relationships. Throughout my years in religious life, it has not been uncom-mon for other members to say to me that they do not understand why "we" stay. I suspect these are comments of frustration, despair, 370 Rewiew for Religious lack of hope, or just plain bewilderment. They are comments indicative of middle places where lack of clarity, direction, and insight plague us all. Middle places, besides containing elements of darkness and light, are also by their very nature places of continuity. The con-tinuity is in the interiority. At the time I entered my community, differences were everywhere in terms of clothes, experiences, and theologies of the vows and reli-gious life, in spite of the renewal of Vatican II. The time of forma-tion for me involved excessive mobility and excessive exposure to all of this. After a long process of ¯ sorting through the externals, I found connection and identifica-tion through the interior. This exposure brought me to the real-ization that times were different, details were different, but the essence of the story was the same. Grace had invited me into the deeper myth of religious life. I can speak for no one but myself when I say that the deepest connection I was able to encounter and perceive in others was the experience of religious life as the deepening of one's greatest life and freedom in a journey with the Divine. I would suspect that all newer or younger members who have been in religious life for several years can appreciate, if not marvel at, the journey of those who have been here before us. I have found numerous women whose journey through pre- and post-Vatican II times has demanded much of them. The journey of these women reveals a depth of discipleship and commitment that mine could never rival. These women are part of my congregation and of other congre-gations; some have long been part of my journey and some are recently a part. Some were part of my journey for a time, a sig-nificant time. Some are with me in a new way beyond the bound-aries of space and time. Growth and transformation are profoundly connected to courageous, faith-filled women who show that "a journey with God is the only real source of satisfaction there is, All newer or younger members who have been in religious life for several years can appreciate, if not marvel at, the journey of those who have been here before us. May-June 1994 371 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place and a life of freedom, no matter how demanding, the only life worth living." s My view is necessarily limited. I merely offer a glimpse of a few of the experiences which could be characteristic of one who has known only this middle place in religious life. And this mid-dle place, too, is necessarily limited. Sandra Schneiders, in her critique of Mary Jo Leddy's book Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model, gives a good description of the general experi-ence of members who were a part of religious life before Vatican II and those who entered just as the council closed:6 Leddy vividly describes the symbolic malaise, lack of cor-porate vision, tenuous sense of belonging, identity confu-sion, and ministerial disarray that is obviously the experience of some religious, notably those in Leddy's own genera-tional cohort. These religious, now in their forties, entered religious life just as Vatican II closed. Religious congrega-tions, with the permission of the council, began a period of wide-ranging experimentation which left formation pro-grams suspended in mid-air between the collectivist identity that was being repudiated and a new identity that had not yet emerged. The corporate resources of religious life enjoyed by their older sisters were not transmitted to these new members, nor did they have the experiential realiza-tion of the dysfunctionality of much of the older system of religious life which fueled the renewal zeal of professed members. Thus, they could not rely on the deep roots of shared history, symbolic cohesion, and corporate identity as everything began to change simultaneously. Nor could they invest with passion in reforming a life they had never lived. Schneiders goes on to state that part of the significance of Leddy's book lies in the dialogue initiated "between those who lived religious life before the council and those whose experience of this life is almost totally postconciliar." This dialogue is impor-tant since a new generation has emerged today which interprets religious life very differently from those whose background embraces the lived experience of Tridentine Catholicism. My hope is that such a dialogue may be initiated. Newer or younger members are often isolated geographically from one another and lack opportunities to connect with one another. They can easily have a different perception and interpretation of reli-gious life because of differences in culture, generation, and a host of other experiences. Such connection could allow shared dis- 372 Review for Religious cussion of situations and concerns that are unique to newer or younger members. Energy could be channeled into discussion of a vision for the future. Congregations need to become aware of the importance of encouraging and providing financial assistance for structures that facilitate connection, reflection, and analysis among the very members who will carry into the 21st century the depth and dynamic of religious life. There is a tremendous significance in encourag-ing and supporting opportunities of this nature for newer or younger members whose dialogue among themselves can then lead to greater creativity when in dialogue with the larger congregation. This type of connection is not, in and of itself, exclusive. It does, how-ever, allow analysis and reflection which can never go on in larger com-munity gatherings simply because newer or younger members tend to be overwhelmed by the concerns and issues and by the sheer numbers of other members. Congregations as a whole rarely can articulate the dreams, hopes, stories, and experiences relative to newer or younger members. It is a simple fact that newer or younger members often constitutes a minute percentage of any congregation. The newer or younger members' analysis and reflection pre-cede the synthesis with the larger group that they hope ultimately to accomplish. To arrive at a communal vision that will animate and give energy for the future is a primary effort of many religious congregations at this time. Such a communal vision will come with a mixture of risk, wisdom, courage, insight, and pain. Many communities like my own have embraced a new creation, a new moment in their history. Most assuredly, we will be held account-able for choices made, choices not made, choices which will affect not just religious life but the church itself in years to come. Even so, we are invited, individually and corporately, to the awareness that "our own carefully laid plans and world orders should never be regarded as more reliable than the unsystematic reality of God's presence and grace."7 Congregations as a whole rarely can articulate the dreams, hopes, stories, and experiences relative to newer or younger members. May-June 1994 373 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place Notes ~John Shea, Stories of God (Chicago: Thomas More Press, 1978), p. 11. 2 Joan Chittister OSB, "Religious Life and the Need for Salt," Religious Life Review 30 (November/December 1991): 284. 3 See Patricia \¥ittberg SC "The Problem of Generations in Religious Life," Review for Religious 47, no. 6 (November-December 1988): 906, 907,908. 4 Mary Jo Leddy, "Beyond the Liberal Model," Way Supplement 65 (summer 1989): 47. s John A. Sanford, The Man Who 12Vrestled with God (New York: Paulist Press, 1981), p. 100. 6 Sandra Schneiders, review of Mary Jo Leddy's Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model in Spirituality Today 42 (winter 1990): 368, 369. 7 Letter of Administrative Team of the Sisters of Mercy of the Union on 19 May 1991 to membership. Paradox Blosso~n-t~othered branches Of whitethorn trees Showing no wood And so full of the hum Of honey-heavy bees Seem to say to me That I should not Register such emptiness In the presence of such plenty Leaning fragrantly down to me In the final days of May. And I say: There is no should! I am a tree Made wood by my winter; Seasons that oppose Are two opposing goods Where envy may not enter To destroy the gift Of paradox. Bernadette McCarrick RSM 374 Review for Religious CATHERINE M. HARMER Religious, the Laity, and the Future of Catholic Institutions Many Catholics have grown up with the assumption that Catholic institutions, especially schools and hospi-tals, are a normal and permanent part of the landscape. Whether or not their children attend either parish or pri-vate Catholic schools, whether or not ~hey ever use the local Catholic hospital, it takes only the hint that these will be closed to cause a great stir. A second common assumption is that the religious congregations who founded and maintained these institutions will continue to do so in the future. Yet these institutions are more at risk now than ever before. Most of the Catholic institutions in this country had their origin in the last century. The parochial school sys-tem developed out of the concern of 19th-century bishops to maintain the faith for the immigrant populations from Catholic European countries. What has become the largest private health system in the country started very simply with religious sisters caring for the sick .and the poor in their homes. The hospitals built and run by their con-gregations were a response to a need to provide profes-sional healthcare in a Catholic setting. For the most part the organizers, builders, and managers of Catholic insti- Catherine M. Harmer MMS has worked as a psychologist in consultation with religious congregations and health systems in Africa, Asia, Latin America, and the United States. Her address is Medical Mission Sisters; 300 W. Wellens Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19120. life in service May-June 1994 375 Harmer ¯ Religious, the Laity, and the Future tutions for educationl health, and social services were religious sisters, brothers, and priests. Even in the parochial school sys-tems, the bishops depended on the ~isters and brothers to provide the teachers and administrators, and to do so at little cost to parish or diocese. This work of founding and developing the major Catholic institutions, private, parochial, and diocesan, was an immense gift of religious to the church in the United States. Initially they served the immigrant Catholic population. As the years went on, the Catholic contribution was recognized beyond the boundaries of the church, especially in the field of healthcare. Given the social and political status of lay Catholics in the 19th and early 20th centuries, it is doubtful if they could have provided either the impetus or the skill to build these institutions, though their finan-cial contributions were the base for all of them. There is no ques-tion that establishing the institutions was a good thing for religious to do. The question today is whether they can or should continue t.o put as much into them now and in the future as they formerly did. Over the last twenty-five years, there has been a steady decline in the numbers of sisters and brothers, and a steady rise in their median age. During the same period, out of necessity rather than choice, the number of lay people in Catholic institutions has also risen. The cost of maintaining the institutions has increased, par-tially because of salary and benefit increases for the lay staff. In healthcare the potential decline of Catholic-sponsored hospitals was delayed, first by the Hill-Burton funds made available for building and then by the increased availability of third-party insur-ance, Medicare, and Medicaid. The decline of Catholic schools started earlier because there was little financial aid for them except occasional foundation grants. Efforts to acquire tuition credits or direct state support for Catholic schools continue to fail. In many dioceses the future of Catholic schools, even the parochial ones, depends on the ability of the parishes to maintain them independently of the diocese. Thus, only in the wealthier parishes can Catholic schools con-tinue to exist. Even these will last only if the priests and parish-ioners are willing to see fairly large proportions of their income go to the school and if parents are willing to pay increasingly higher tuition. There is the clear possibility that the Catholic school system will gradually disappear through attrition, with 376 Review for Religious only a few schools remaining for those who can afford private education. Creative efforts have been made by congregations. They have involved greater numbers of lay people in their institutions, main-taining sponsorship of the institutions and control over their mis-sion so as not to lose the congregation's charism and values. Particularly in healthcare there have been mergers of different types, from full takeover of one system by another to the collabo-ration of two or more systems forming a new system. Still, while the presence of religious in the institutions continues to decline, the number of lay women and men at high levels of management and in board positions grows. Lay members of the institutions find themselves attracted

Issue 64.2 of the Review for Religious, 2005. ; Faith Perspectives Taking Account Religious Life Holy People QUARTERLY 64.2 2005 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with, God, dialogue witt~ ourselves, and dialogue with one . another about the l~olin~ess~w~e try tolive' ~ ~ according to charisms of Catholic religious life,,; As Pope Paul VI 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: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° St. Joseph's Provincial House 333 South Seton Avenue ° Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2005 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. view for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Webmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB M~ry Ann Foppe 7Fracy Gramm Jiady Sharp ' Clare Boehmer ASC Steve Erspamer SM .Kathleen'Hughes RSCJ Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Lot~is and Angela Menard Bisl~op Terry.Steib SVD Miriam -D. Ukeritis CSJ :'. QUARTERLY 64.2 2O05 contents 116 prisms Prisms faith perspectives Reaching the Alienated Heart: An Interpretation of the Descent into Hell Dennis J. Billy CSSR examines our creedal profession that Jesus "descended into hell" and finds an understanding for our contemporary human experience. 129 Feet First into Resurrection Bonaventure Stefun OFMCap delves into the significance of the Christian action of the washing of the feet in its sacra-mental way of relating us to the risen Christ. Reflection and Discussion 11,4] 135 152 taking account Framing the Ethical Rights of Priests James F. Keenan SJ writes as a moral theologian to propose four ethical rights that would seem to need recognition for the healthy communio of the church. Faith and Solidarity in Action Anne Munley IHM presents a summary overview of the May 2004 plenary session of the International Union of Superiors General (UISG) dealing with the ministry of reconciliation. Review for Religious 159 Women Religious in Treatment for Addictions Millie Cargas describes art therapy and its effectiveness in therapy programs. 168 Asceticism and Chaste Celibate Love 177 184 194 Vilma Seelaus OCD unites chaste celibate love with an asceticism that enlarges the heart to receive a greater outpouring of God's love, which then flows more freely through us into the lives of others. Prayer hoOy people Snapshots of Three Lesser-Known "Saints" Robert F. Maloney CM sketches in brief detail the lives and deaths of three Catholics who continue to call us to witness to our faith. Learning to Live Serenely: The Wisdom of FFancis de Sales Juliana Devoy RGS reintroduces us to the sage advice of Francis de Sales in the ordinary daily living of our Christian lives. Reflection and Questions Good and Bad Zeal, Good and Bad Spirits Joseph I. Cisetti notes that, while distinct, the teaching of St. Benedict on good and bad zeal and the instructions of St. Ignatius on good and bad spirits bear similarities useful for both personal discernment and pastoral ministry. Reflection Questions ~ 201 206 ]epartrn r s Scripture Scope: Reading the Acts of the Apostles Canonical Counsel: No More, No Less, and No Other . 212 Book Reviews 64.2 200Y prisms Te title of the apostolic letter "Stay with Us, Lord," published on the occasion of the October 2004-October 2005 Year of the Eucharist, repeats the request that the two disciples gave to the stranger as they made their way to Emmaus on that first Easter Sunday. Each year we seem to enter anew into the full challenge of our asking the Lord "to stay with us" as we move into the Easter and Pentecost seasons .and the Ordinary time of our Christian living that follows. Every Eucharist we celebrate brings home to us our relating to the Risen Lord in his sacra-mental presence. As we know from our scripture readings in the Easter season, Jesus seemed to move in and out of the disciples' lives. His alter-hating presence and absence prompted Peter and some of the other apostles to go back to their trade of fishing, which provided the occasion for a picnic breakfast at the seashore. Perhaps over and over again we may have heard the apostles and disciples begging "Stay with us, Lord." The Risen Lord does "stay" with his eucharistic stance of offering himself totally in love to God his Father and of giving himself R~ie'w for Religio~s totally in love over into our human hands. The once-event of crucifixion is removed from the boundaries of time by the very person of Jesus now risen and "stay-ing" with us day after day. Each celebration of the Eucharist calls forth our recognition of this nearness of Jesus, inviting us to be with him in this love-offering. Eucharistic adoration outside of Mass continues to chal-lenge us to recognize Jesus' presence not so much as merely "staying" with us but rather as continuously offer-ing himself in love totally to the Father and to us and always inviting us to fully integrate ourselves into his sacrificial (that is, "making holy") action. "Stay with us, Lord"--heartfelt as the plea is--needs more humbly to be prayed as "Let us be where you are, Lord." Our greatest desire is always to be where God is; we do not smugly ask God to take the trouble to come to where we prefer to be. By God's grace and calling, some women and men, often hermits or consecrated religious, have dedicated their lives to Eucharistic worship. They have given their lives to "stay" with the Lord. But for the most part we ordinary Catholics find that life is spent in many activities, working for a living, being helpful and hospitable, planning, coping with setbacks, involved with family or community, with limited time for church celebrations and Eucharistic devotions. Are we slow to expect Christ to "stay with us"? .If we are, why not prayerfully seek to "stay with Jesus" as he continues to be active everywhere in this busy world of ours? Then we realize the 'truth of the Eucharistic action: Jesus is the One inviting us to be With him in his love offering to God and to others. Our. prayer is: "Let me stay where you are." David L. Fleming SJ 117 64.2 2005 faith perspectives DENNIS J. BILLY Reaching the Alienated Heart: An Interpretation of the Descent into Hell The doctrine of Christ's descent into hell after his suffering and death on Good Friday conveys some important truths about the meaning and scope of the paschal mystery. To understand this doctrine, we must distinguish its theological for-mulation from the underlying truth it seeks to express. Also we must put aside any prejudices that would prevent us from probing this doc-trine for its full worth and must open our hearts to its deep spiritual wisdom. My purpose in this essay is to explore what the Apostles' Creed means when it says that Jesus "descended into hell" and to see this teaching's impact on our lives today. Christ's Redemptive Self-Emptying As we begin, note that the descent into hell makes sense only if we examine it in the con-text of the creed's other affirmations about Dennis J. Billy CSSR, a frequent contributor to our pages, writes from Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma, Italy. Review for Religious Christ, especially those related to his plan of redemp-tion. The Apostles' Creed, we are told, "is rightly con-sidered a faithful summary of the Apostles' faith" and constitutes "the oldest Roman catechism." 1 Since all of the church's teachings about Christ are closely related, just where this particular doctrine appears in the creed can tell us much about its overall function in the faith of the early church. When looking at the surrounding words, we see that Jesus' descent is placed between affirmations about his suffering and death ("he suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried") and the proclama-tion of his resurrection ("on the third day he rose again"). If the early Christians considered entering the realm of the dead a natural outcome of Jesus' passion and death, then rising from the dead preceded his ascent into heaven. This immediate context tells us that Jesus' descent into hell occupies an important place in the over-all narrative of Jesus' redemptive journey. If it did not, it would never have been placed at the very heart of the creed's Christological affirmations. The preceding and subsequent Christological affir-mations in the Apostles' Creed make this even more apparent. Earlier we affirm that Jesus is the only Son of the Father, that he was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. Later we affirm that Jesus ascended into heaven, sits at the right hand of the Father, and will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead. The creed's entire Christological narrative, then, looks something like this: incarnation, birth, suffering, death, descent into hell, resurrection, ascent to the Father's right hand, return in glory, final judgment. Along with the resurrection, Jesus' descent into hell lies at the center of the narrative of human redemption. It is the last action of Jesus' redemptive self- 119 64.2 200~ Billy ¯ Reacbing the Alienated Heart emptying and the point from which his transformation and glorious ascent begins. rOse,ore the dead, ' ascended into heave " allows for somb latit de: about how these forrnulation " " should be ftnderstOod. ,:, Formulation and Truth At this point some pivotal questions arise. What is the correspondence between the statements in the Apostles' Creed and the truths they express? Is this brief narrative of Jesus' redemptive mission meant to be taken lit-erally? Does it reveal certain truths about Christ's redemptive action that can be removed from their present theological formulations in the hope of uncovering deeper, even more penetrating insights into the mystery of the Christ event? Is it possible to uncover the underlying truths of the creed without doing damage to the tradition by which those truths have been passed down? There are no simple answers, to these important and enigmatic questions. Some statements in the creed are affirmations of historical fact and require a close con-nection between the formulations themselves and the truths they .state. To say that Jesus suffered, died, and was buried, for example, leaves little room for discus-sion. Either these affirmations happened or they did not. The historical events to which they refer must be either accepted or denied. Other statements in the creed, however, are affirma-tions of faith that cannot be historically verified and thus Review for Religious offer more leeway in distinguishing between their for-mulations and the truths they disclose. To say that Jesus rose from the dead or ascended into heaven allows for some latitude about how these formulations should be understood. What do we mean when we say someone has risen from the dead? What is our understanding of ascension? What is our understanding of heaven? Unlike the notions of suffering, death, and burial, these con-cepts have no historical precedents with which to com-pare them. Given these possibilities, theologians need to discern with care the nature of the particular creedal statement before them and then determine to the best of their abil-ity the relationship between the formulation itself and the truth it uncovers. While a certain logical gap will probably always exist between the formulation and the truth to which it points, the gap will likely vary from one doctrinal formulation to the next. Understanding Jesus' Descent Like the doctrines of Jesus' resurrection and ascen-sion into heaven, the creedal affirmation of Jesus' "descent into hell" allows for a certain amount of dis-tance between its theological formulation and the truth it expresses. After all, there must be more to this doctrine than the image it conjures.in our minds of a literal, spa-tial descent by Christ into the dark and gloomy under-world of the now outdated Hebrew worldview. What about the astonishing message of God's undying love for the world? Most would agree that hell is not so much a place as a state of being, one completely alienated from God. In our reinterpretation of hell, the focus should be on the spiritual and mental, not the physical. When speaking about Jesus' "descent into hell" today, perhaps we should interpret it as revealing something about 121 64.2 2005" Billy ¯ Reaching the Alienated Heart humanity's alienation from God and about Jesus' role in bringing that alienation to an end. Alienation makes us feel isolated from ourselves, one another, and God. It hinders us on our journey through life and prevents us from becoming the persons we are called to be. Ronald Rolheiser puts it this way: "We are social beings, meant to live in love and intimacy with others. Our nature demands this. When, for whatever reasons, we cannot achieve this and communicate love as we should, then something is missing inside of us--and we feel it! We feel estranged and alienated.''2 To be in hell is to be in a state of complete and utter alienation from God. In such a state, we have lost touch with our-selves and so have become incapable of reaching out in love to anyone. If we are honest, all of us will admit experiencing sometime in our lives this sense of being estranged from and "out of sync" with ourselves, the world around us, and the God who created us. We feel at war with our-selves, divided and incapable of healing the division. Although we are conscious of it in various ways and degrees, this sense of alienation is not a matter of per-sonal choice (although choice can contribute to it), but a part of our existential condition as human beings. What makes matters worse is that we somehow sense that it was not meant to be this way, that something has gone terribly wrong with our human condition and that some-how humanity as a whole bears at least some (if not all) responsibility for it. Making All Things New Christianity is all about how God chose to make things right again by sharing our human condition and overcoming this alienation lurking deep in our hearts. Down through the ages, the church has developed the Review for Religious doctrines of original sin and redemption to explain this universal alienation and reveal the way God has chosen to rectify it. Jesus' descent into hell is intimately tied to these fun-damental Christian doctrines, each of which, like two sides of a coin, cannot exist without the other. Here, too, a distinction must ., - - -- be made between the formulations of these doctrines and the truths they disclose. Like Jesus' descent into hell, these doc-trines allow room for interpretation. The doctrine of original sin affirms that all of humanity has somehow become alienated from God in its collec-tive soul. The doctrine of redemption, in turn, affirms that, for any healing to take place, Jesus entered that realm of alienation and preached the Good News of God's love for each and every human being. When seen in this light, Jesus' descent into hell is the final stage of his redemptive self-emptying. H~ has entered our world, given himself to us completely, to the point of dying for us, and even to the point of telling those who live in complete alienation from the divine that God still loves them. Through the cross Jesus reveals his message of divine compassion, breaks down the resistance of our primal alienation, and offers newness of life to all who would have it. Byzantine iconography illustrates this point very well. When depicting the descent into hell, the artist normally has Jesus standing on the toppled gates of hell with a scroll in one hand and pulling Adam out of a bottom- The word preached by Jesus to those in hell boldly proclaims a new creation made possible by hi! rising from the dead. 64.2 2005 Billy * Reaching the Alienated Heart less pit with the other. Below Adam, angels can be seen locking Satan and his minions in chains that will hold them captive for all eternity. According to the principles of iconography, a scroll typically represents the preach-ing of the word. Since "Adam" in Hebrew means "man," in the universal sense of the term that today many would refer to as "humanity," Jesus' lifting of Adam, the first man, indicates the healing of humanity's primal wounds and its elevation to even great heights through Christ's redeeming grace) The word preached by Jesus to those in hell boldly proclaims a new creation made possible by his rising from the dead. Through his resurrection Jesus, the first fruits of the new humanity, takes fallen humanity by the hand, lifts it out of its primal alienation, and lets it par-ticipate in a union with the divine more intimate than everbefore thought possible. Jesus' descent into hell cannot be properly understood apart from his rising from the dead. It relates to the resurrection as the doctrine of original sin relates to the redemption. They are like two sides of a coin: they cannot exist without each other. Observations The above presentation offers a rethinking of the church's traditional teaching of Jesus' descent into hell. What follows are a number of remarks designed to fill out this interpretation in practical and relevant ways. 1. To begin with, this presentation challenges us to examine our minds and hearts in order to affirm what we truly believe about our faith. The doctrines of Christianity developed over time out of the experience of God's people and must always try to speak to their ongo-ing experience. If they fail to do so, they risk becoming brittle assertions from the past that fail to inspire and give life. The challenge for today's believers is to engage Review for Religious these doctrines in such a way that they continue to speak to their experience while remaining faithful to the insights of our Christian forebears. This presentation of Jesus' descent into hell uses different interpretive lenses to affirm the underlying truths of the traditional teach-ing so that they can be understood among the shifting contours of today's spiritual landscape. 2. A fundamental presupposition of this presentation is that it is possible to draw a distinction between a par-ticular formulation of the Christian faith and the truths it seeks to express. Since the complex relationship between language and meaning are not easy to unravel (if at all), we have urged here that, when seeking a refor-mulation of a doctrine that would be more palatable to contemporary tastes, we proceed strictly on a case-by-case basis. The approach used here for reinterpreting Jesus' descent into hell, for example, would not neces-sarily work in discussions of other creedal statements, especially those with more historically verifiable claims. 3. The distinction between a theological formula and the truth it discloses can be upheld on the basis of the analogy of human language. As with language, the Aposdes' Creed is a complex system of symbols that seeks to convey an intricate web of meaning. While all trans-lations of that meaning from one language to others are themselves interpretations (some better than others), we maintain that translations are not only possible but some-times absolutely required. This claim is all the more true for the church's proclamation of the Gospel, which at one and the same time must remain faithful to the apos-tolic tradition and relevant to the spiritual needs of each generation. 4. The choice of the phrase "alienation from the divine" as the existential equivalent to the Christian doctrine of hell has much in its favor. The term "alienation" is used 64.2 2005 Billy * Reaching the Alienated Heart by many spiritual writers today and, when taken to an extreme, conveys a sense of the intense pain and isolation experienced in a life marked by a total absence of God. The knowledge, moreover, that there are different degrees of alienation (from simple noninclusion to total estrange-ment) brings new insights in the Catholic doctrine of purgatory. If hell is the state of being in which individuals have become so alienated from God that they can no longer open their hearts to God's compassionate love, then pur-gatory represents that state of being where alienated hearts still can be moved to conversion. Seen in this light, the final judgment is not an external ruling exercised by Christ at the end of time, but the simple recognition that per-sons' choices in life have a cumulative effect on their hearts. 5. Finally, Jesus' death on the cross, his descent into hell, and his resurrection from the dead do not bring an end to humanity's existential condition of alienation from the divine, but begin its healing. Jesus' descent into hell was not a single, one-time event, but a continuous engag-ing with humanity's alienation from the divine. Because Jesus' redemptive action occurs both in and out of time, he continues to empty himself for us to this very day by descending into the throes of our alienation from God in order to make of it a new creation. V~at has changed for us as a result of his redemptive action is that, in the midst of this alienation, we can hear a still small voice from deep within our hearts calling us by name and affirming God's compassionate and abounding love for us. That voice is the Spirit, the bond of love between the Father and the Son, who wishes not only to speak but also to dwell within our hearts. Jesus' redemptive action makes it possible for us to live a life in the Spirit. This descent into hell is a stark reminder of what our lives would be like without him. While these observations do not exhaust the insights Review for Religious that this interpretation of Jesus' descent into hell has to offer, they demonstrate that doctrine can be both con-tinuous with the past and relevant to the spiritual sensi-tivities of today's believers. We have seen that this descent can be understood as Jesus' proclamation of the truth of his resurrection even to those who have com-pletely alienated themselves from the divine love. Although God's love for humanity is deep and plen-tiful, Jesus was well aware that not everyone would be ready to accept his message of forgiveness and intimate friendship with the divine. He experienced rejection dur-ing his public ministry and fully expected the same (if not worse) when he journeyed to hell by way of his grue-some and bloody death by crucifixion. This knowledge, however, did not prevent him from proclaiming his trans-forming message of God's love in the realm of the dead. On the contrary, it emboldened him. The point of this essay is that this shadowy realm lies not in some dark, murky Sheol beneath the pillars of the earth, but deep in the human heart. Even today Jesus goes there to proclaim his message and bring an end to humanity's primal alienation from God. Although the message he preaches is a source of vexation to many (hence the well-known phrase "harrowing of hell"), many whose hearts have not been completely hardened will listen to it and be moved to repentance. In the final analysis, Jesus' descent into hell affirms that the Good News is destined to be proclaimed not just to the ends of the earth, but to the heights and depths of reality itself, especially the heights and depths of the human heart. "God is everywhere," as we learned from our penny catechism--even in hell. He is present not only by virtue of keeping things in existence, but also by virtue of his word, the healing message of hope he carries to our fallen and alienated humanity. 127 64.2 2005 Billy ¯ Reaching the Alienated Heart Notes *Catechism of the Catholic Church (Rome: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1994), p. 53, §§194 and 196. 2 Ronald Rolheiser, The Restless Heart: Finding Our Spiritual Home in Times of Loneliness (New York: Doubleday, 2004), p. 43. 3 For more on iconography and Jesus' descent into hell, see M. Helen Weier, Festal Icons of the Lord (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1977), pp. 41-44. 128 Mother and Son She sits in the half lit room, eyes half closed in prayer. Outside, it is still dark, and all in the house but her are asleep. She looks up as the room fills with light, a new day breaking, the light like none she or anyone else has ever seen. Although it is not whiter than snow, the light of the angel at the tomb, to see it would frighten most. But she, with a light of her own, greater than that of angels, knows she has nothing to fear from this light of purest love. Kevin Bezner Re~ie~ for Religious BONAVENTURE STEFUN Feet First into Resurrection ~ nly with the beginnings of scholasticism in the 1 lth or 12th century was there a careful and sys-tematic distinguishing of sacraments from sacramentals. In 1274 the Council of Lyons (DS 860) listed the church's seven sacraments. In earlier centuries, preach-ers would include various actions in Christian life as grace-giving sacraments/sacramentals, without con-trasting them. One action of Christ commonly followed was his washing of his disciples' feet at the Last Supper. In an age when most travel was by foot, one would think that people would take feet for granted--take them in stride and ignore them. Once people's feet developed calluses, it would seem that they could go on forever with a minimum of care. Paul blithely considered feet to be less majestic parts of the body, even though essen-tial for carrying the faith beyond the mountains. As insignificant as feet would have seemed, people could not forget what the Master had done. One can imagine Peter welcoming visitors to his place of abode with a basin and a towel. Feet took on such an importance that 129 Bonaventure Stefun OFMCap writes this reflective article from St. Augustine Friary; 221-36th Street; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15201. 64.2 2005 Stefun ¯ Feet First into Resurrection washing guests' feet was seen as a kind of sacrament in the church for hundreds of years. Imagine how the concept of a body's importance may have developed in the early church. First came the gru-eling crucifixion and then the gradual realization of res-urrection, both actions involving the Lord's body. What Jesus did in washing the apostles' feet became a way of understanding his res-urrection, for it was a complete and natural demonstration of his incarnation, his embod-ied life on earth. His concern for a lowly part of the human anatomy reminds us that his own mortality came from his human makeup. Disciples could simply follow footsteps into the theology of a Lord who could die and then be raised from the dead. The story began on Easter Sunday. Once the Sabbath restrictions were ended, disconsolate women set out for the tomb where their Master had been quickly buried. These were the women from Galilee who used to accom-pany Jesus and his Twelve. They liked to prepare the lit-tle that he ate and to minister to his various needs, tiny as those needs usually were. This time, with desolate hearts, they wanted to per-form their final service with all their deepest love. They wanted to provide for Jesus' body the anointing that had to be cut short when the Sabbath followed so closely on his dying. Their hearts were filled with love and with an overflowing sorrow, the ambivalent feelings the living experience in taking care of the dead. All those feelings were suddenly turned to alarm as Review for Religious they drew close to the tomb. It was gapingly open, and they could see that it was empty. Immediately they feared desecration or vandalism or strong intimidation on the part of the soldiers or the city's leaders. In their bewil-derment the women turned back to their homes, stum-bling along in stunned silence.lust a short way along their return road, the)~ were jolted to a stop. There was .Jesus, just standing there, not a desecrated corpse but alert and fully alive. He lifted his hand in silent bless-ing and greeting. He had come on purpose, knowing the familiar road they would use. Without hesitation the women knelt in a cluster and embraced his feet. Their prostration was typical enough for their day, more than just a simple bow when paying respect to a beloved teacher. Disciples would kneel to acknowledge how superior the person was who taught them and made sense of life's daily struggles. This time, embracing their Master's feet implied something even greater than deep respect. Jesus himself had embraced his disciples' feet with his hands, washing their feet and drying them with the padded caress of a towel. The women marveled when they heard the Apostles tell the story. Once that ritual of washing feet was completed on the solemn occasion of his last meal with them, Jesus told his disciples to do what he had done, and they told others. This would be a sign that they were.Jesus' disci-ples. The whirlwind events of the next days prevented any development of the new rite of service, but all would have been thinking of his command to wash one another's feet, serve one another, love one another just as Jesus loved each of them. Even the children would have to be part of this new and loving ritual of washing feet. Jesus said plainly that all such service, even to the very least, was really done for him. 131 t~4.2 200~ Stefun * Feet First into Resurrection The Gospel of John On 12:3-7) subtly connects this foot-washing by Jesus with the tearful washing and costly anointing of Jesus' feet by a woman of tarnished reputa-tion in the house of Simon the Pharisee (Lk 7:37-38, Mk 14:3-8, Mt 26:7-12). Judas called the flood of oil a dread-ful extravagance. We all are inclined to thoughts like that, John seems to imply, and perfumed oil belongs on the head, not the feet! It certainly seemed wasteful until Jesus said it was part of the preparation for his burial. Now, on the road returning home, the women real-ized that the pre-burial anointing by one or two women was more important to Jesus than what they were attempting to do by going to his tomb early in the morn-ing. He seemed to accept that anointing of his feet at a Pharisee's interrupted dinner as a special sign, a sign which indicated an intense love and an immense faith. John suggests in his Gospel that the woman, named Mary, was showing the kind of reverence a body deserves that brings God's presence into salvation history. Jesus kept saying that he knew he was about to be executed. He would die and bring about forgiveness of sin, and he would do it through his body. He would put his body into total submission to God, and in dying he would trust the Father to take care of him, including his body, and even his feet. The woman herself seemed to be saying the same thing with her aromatic anointing. The body she anointed would not carry the stench of corruption but rather the fragrance of God's presence. In accepting this service for his burial, Jesus was indicating that he had no fear of physical corruption after death. Psalm 16 had long before assured him of his Father's intervention to keep his body from decay. He needed just to trust his Father, to live by faith as completely as he asked his dis-ciples to do. Review for Religious As the women of Easter Sunday embraced their Lord's feet along a familiar road, they understood the fuller meaning of washing and anointing feet. They con-eluded that every washing was also an anointing, a prepa-ration for his burial. All the daily care for little children and other needy persons was part of his burial, as were all the care and respect shown for the bodies of persons who had died. The very care became the perfume of love and the promise that the Father would be present even when bod-ies succumbed in death. What this woman did in anointing his feet, Jesus said, would be recalled wher-ever he would be remembered and his gospel proclaimed. When he made this remark, it seemed like simple grati-tude on his part, but he was really saying that every dis-ciple of his could help prepare his body for burial. Their daily acts of service to their brothers and sisters would be an anointing with perfumed oil, a symbol of God's presence and a pledge of resurrection, his own first, and then that of all his disciples. It was natural for people in the early church to con-clude that the washing of feet was a kind of sacrament, a sign of the Lord's presence and a channel of grace. Gradually, in the course of centuries, feet became pam-pered by socks and sturdy shoes and comfortable trans-portation and no longer looked forward, upon arriving, to the soothing removal of mud and dust. Not just tramping feet but all parts of a Christian's body took on the role of signifying the body of Christ. Can we, like Jesus, in dying, trust the Father ~to take care of us, including our body, and even our feet ? 133 64.2 2005 Stefun ¯ Feet First into Resurrection Instead of a washing only, at baptismal rites the body would be anointed, as it would also at confirmation and the sacrament of orders. Often a healing anointing would be given to the sick, and the sacrament of healing addressed the greater healing of sin's wounds and the grand hope of sharing in our Lord's risen life. In these latter-day circumstances, the washing of feet has taken on the appearance of an act of penance and humility, a virtuous act, but no longer a sort of sacra-ment like the seven described by the Councils of Lyons, Florence, and Trent. Not just the washing of feet, but all thoughtful care of others used to be understood as a path toward understanding and being involved in Christ's dying and rising. If feet no longer need gentle washing as a matter of kind hospitality, some other service in Jesus' name for a poor child or a travel-worn person on life's journey would keep Jesus' disciples aware day by day of him dying and rising among us, or us dying and rising in him. Questions for Reflection and Discussion Questions for personal reflection and group discussion: 1. How do we understand our Catholic distinction between sacraments and sacramentals? Perhaps we may need to review "Sacramental, in the Catechism of the Catholic Church, Part Two, Chapter Four. 2. We experience the washing of the feet during the Holy Thursday Eucharistic celebration. Have we experienced other sacramental moments during the Eucharist or other Catholic prayer service? Why was this action sacramental for us? Review for Religious JAMES F. KEENAN Framing the Ethical Rights of Priests Lately priests have been writing and signing a variety of statements. For-instance, on 9 December 2002 fifty-eight Boston priests signed a letter calling for the resignation of Cardinal Bernard Law. In a letter of 1 October 2003, priests of Rockville Centre called for a meeting with Bishop William Murphy over "widespread dissatisfaction" with his leadership. The priests of Chicago wrote an open letter to the hierarchy about the tone and content of church leaders' remarks about gay and lesbian persons, a letter subsequently adopted by priests of Rochester (New York) and Boston. Then there Was the let-ter of last August signed by more than 160 priests in Milwaukee calling for a married clergy. Amazing actions inasmuch as many cannot remember during the 1980s or 1990s any other James F. Keenan SJ has written for us twice before, in 1992 and 1996. His address is Theology Department; Boston College; Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts 02467. taking account 135 64.2 2005 Keenan ¯ Framing the Ethical Rights of Priests such letters written by priests. Thus, it seems relevant for a Catholic moral theologian to ask: Do priests have a right to do this? A~dmittedly, in each instance the letters are admoni-tory at most, yet they are concerned with influencing the bishop and/or the bishops' conference. As the priests in Rockville Centre noted in their letter, as "your brother priests., we believe that [we] may have a special role." Do they? Before answering that question, I need to ask three prior questions. First, how much have moral theologians assisted priests? Second, how interested would priests be in the assistance of moral theologians? Third, how appropriate is rights language for speaking about the priesthood? After answering these questions I will pro-pose four specific ethical rights for priests. Question 1: How much have moral theologians assisted priests? The answer to the first question is simple: Not much. Strange as it may seem, priests and bishops rarely receive any professional training from moral theologians. Those who study at seminaries, divinity schools, or schools of theology do not have the type of ethical training that those at other professional schools receive. Students at business, medical, or law schools take ethics courses that address the ethical issues relevant to their particular pro-fession. They are taught the responsibilities and rights specific to their profession: matters of representation, confidentiality, whistle-blowing, client expectations, priv-ileges, promotions, evaluations, conflicts of interest, pro-fessional boundaries, and so forth. This type of ethical training is not found at most seminaries, divinity schools, or schools of theology, even though many students take two, three, or four courses of Review for Religious Christian ethics. Divinity students and seminarians gen-erally do not study the ethical demands, responsibilities, rights, obligations, and privileges specific to their voca-tion. Rather, they study the ethical norms and relevant circumstances regarding the laity's sexual relations and the attendant reproductive issues, the social ethics of governments and businesses, and the medical ethics of physicians and nurses. That is, those in ministry are taught how to govern and make ethically accountable the members of their congregations. But, generally speaking, they are not taught by what ethical reasoning, insights, or norms they should govern themselves ethi-cally. A priest, therefore, knows much, much more about birth control and in-vitro fertilization than he knows about the demands of confidentiality, the principle of subsidiarity, or the right treatment of employees. This same alienation is found in canon-law courses. When seminarians study canon law, they learn more about whether a married couple can get an annulment than the rights and responsibilities incumbent on their own state in life. Ask a priest what he should do if his vicar says to him, "An accusation has been filed against you; I deem it credible; you have two-hours to leave the rectory." Few would know what rights belong to him. But tell him that you want to marry a person who while belonging to another Christian denomination married a person in a non-Christian wedding but subsequently entered that denomination and then they both sought the blessing of a minister (of yet another denomination) and he will be able to explain to you whether and why your intended needs to file for an annulment. Priests learn a lot about how to direct others, but not about what pertains to themselves. That being said, there have been a few recent signs of change. As early as 1996 the moral theologian Richard 64.2 2005 Keenan ¯ Framing the Ethical Rights of Priests Gula wrote his Ethics in Pastoral Ministry (Paulist Press). Gula has spoken around the country about the need to develop such training. The Protestant ethicist Karen Lebacqz has likewise written and spoken extensively on the topic. More recendy, facing the crisis here in Boston, Edward Vacek, Stephen Pope, and Lisa Sowle Cahill have written and spoken in a variety of places about the need for professional ethics in the church. With the Mennonite theologian Joseph Kotva, I edited Practice What You Preach: Virtues, Ethics, and Power in the Lives of Pastoral Ministers and Their Congregations, which con-tained twenty-six essays by Christian ethicists from a dozen denominations reflecting on the need to develop more ethically accountable lives of service and leader-ship. Interestingly, though all the contributors were well-known, most of them had never written on ethical issues internal to church life. In order to help readers get an idea of the scope of issues facing people in ministry, the writers in our col-lection offered ethical guidance for individual church leaders and their communities and dealt with issues such as disillusionment and deference in clerical life, semi-nary admissions policies, candidacy programs, pastoral assignments, staff salaries, liturgical celebrations, and the practices of collegiality and subsidiarity. These initial exercises by moral theologians illustrate, then, just how much work we need to do to assist the clergy in their professional service to the church. But that leads to the second question. Question 2: How interested would the clergy be in moral theologians' assistance? That answer is simple: It all depends on the priest, for there is no consensus among priests about the need of professional ethics. The reason for this is, in part, the Review for Religious differences among them regarding their own under-standing of themselves and of episcopal decision making. The first difference is how they privilege one dimen-sion of their ministerial identity over another. Admittedly, all understand themselves as having the status of ordina-tion and yet being called to service. But they look at that double identity with specific preferences. In a wonderful new book, Evolving Visions of the Priesthood (Liturgical Press, 2003), Dean Hoge and Jacqueline Wenger asked the clergy whether there is a new status or permanent character conferred by ordina- Because status privileges the clergy as liping in a"distinct world, establishing a professional ethics for them Can be especially challenging. tion. When they first asked that question in 1970, only 52 percent of those aged 26-35 said yes, while 88 percent of those aged 56-65 said yes. But now, more than thirty years later, 68 percent of those once young priests now between 56-65 answered yes, while an enormous 95 per-cent of those 26-35 said yes. That is, thirty years ago the younger the priests were, the less inclined they were to be concerned~with the status question; today the younger they are, the more they are so inclined. Because status privileges the clergy as living in a distinct world, establishing a professional ethics for them can be espe-cially challenging. The second difference correlates with the first. Those priests more inclined to understand themselves as ordained and set apart are more comfortable with earlier forms of episcopal decision making, while those more inclined to identifying themselves with their ministerial service are looking for more professional standards. The 139 64.2 2005 Keenan ¯ Framing the Ethical Rights of Priests former tend to look at ecclesial bureaucracy with esteem and are satisfied with their fraternal and paternal expres-sions. Similarly they are comfortable with the way the Roman curia proceeds. Those who prefer service look to the world of the professional where the norms of con-duct are posted and expectations regarding promotions, decision making, and power sharing are public and clear. Thus the way a priest identifies himself also tends to develop into where he looks for standards of authority. We might be surprised by the way these differing tendencies look at canon law. Those who see themselves as having a set status are comfortable with exercises of local episcopal authority and prefer the bishop's admin-istrative or executive judgment to the actual application of the law. The men who want clarity and norms are more likely to want reform of clerical culture, and toward that end they often turn to their professional identity as expressed in canon law. These tendencies play out similarly in the contem-porary problematic of removing priests. Priests who understand themselves as ordained and set apart prefer episcopal exercise of administrative power to resolve matters. Priests who understand themselves primarily as servants favor canonical procedures. These dividing lines are applicable not only to the clergy but to the laity's relationship with the clergy. It ought not to be surprising, then, that the champions of the right of accused priests to receive due process and juridical appeal are more often those who tend to orga-nizations like Voice of the Faithful. One layperson, Catherine Henningsen, frequently addresses VOTF chap-ters and calls the removal of priests without due process "the most underreported aspect of the pedophilic crisis" and labels it "the second wave of abuse on the part of many bishops." She follows step by step the normative Review for Religious procedures that bishops should follow, that the clergy should expect, and that the laity ought to oversee. Her work highlights the natural affinity between VOTF and freestanding priests' organizations like the Boston Priests Forum and New York's Voice of the Ordained, which look to guarantee the rights of accused priests. But other priests--those who are more comfortable with ecclesial administrative judgments--are strong critics of Henningson, seeing her work as opportunistic. A final set of tendencies among priests is how they distinguish the private from the public. Priests inclined to understand themselves primarily as separated from oth-ers usually are less inclined to find relevance in the dis-tinction between the private and the public. Priests inclined to service, professional standards, and canon law give the distinction great weight. These feel that they should have private living quarters and be able to dress as they want on their vacation days. Some also see celibacy as an unnecessary intrusion into their private lives. I propose these rights, then, not to extend the divide, but to offer a context in which priests tending in either direction can discuss them, Moreover, I propose them, not as a manifesto or as a confrontational stance for those priests and laypersons who prefer the more service-ori-ented professional model. Rather, I offer a modest pro-posal to both sides of the aisle, and to those as well who try to bridge those aisles. Hopefully, it may let us find common ground upon which we can find agreement rather than disagreement. Question 3: Is rights language appropriate? The answer here is also simple: Yes. I use the word "rights" not as a canonist does, that is, as a very specific right that the Code of Canon Law recognizes; but rather as what moral theologians and Christian social ethicists 141 64.2 2005 Keenan ¯ Framing the Ethical Rights of Priests mean when we talk of the right to food, or work, or healthcare, that is, as an ethical right. Certainly, I propose these with the hope that they may be' eventually articu-lated into canonical precepts, but I do not claim that they necessarily have canonical force now. Moreover, I do not see rights as some sort of volun-taristic assertions of power over and against others; rather, I see rights language as springing from acom- " Way, b foreright . .language appeared in modern liberal democracies, righis Were fi. dt , trinsic .the,. good munity of faith looking to see how its mem-bers can best protect the good of the whole church and its specific members. Following Brian Tierney (The Idea of Natural Rigbts: Studies on Natural Rights, Natural Law, and Church Law, 11 Y0- 162$), I believe that rights were originally recognized by l lth- and 12th-century theologians and canonists who tried to articulate those that belonged to popes, bishops, the clergy, and other church members, not as inimical to the life of the church, but as constitu-tive of the church. In other words, way before rights lan-guage appeared in modern liberal democracies, rights were first expressed as intrinsic to the good of the church. Finally, as Aristotle taught us, ethics is for the com-munity, and asserting the ethical rights of priests is cer-tainly not at the cost of the community, but rather for its benefit. Thus, to the extent that these rights are not respected, to that extent not only priests but the com-munity of the church, its own very communio, suffer. Book II of the Code of Canon Law outlines the obli- Review for Religious gations and rights of all the Christian faithful (cc. 204- 223). The first set of rights and obligations belongs to the laity (cc. 224-231), and eventually the Code turns to the rights and obligations of the clergy (cc. 273-289). Here we find three canonical rights: of association, to a vaca-tion, and to fitting and decent remuneration. Instead of these three canonical rights, I propose four "ethical" ones: the right of priests to share respectfully in the episcopal ministry of the local ordinary, the right of association, the right to exercise their ministry, and the right to fair treatment. I propose these rights as modes of helping the church to further understand the way priests today should ethically live and serve in the church. The Right to Share Respectfully in the Bishop's Ministry The first right echoes one that was discussed in the revision of the Code of Canon Law, "the right of coop-erating with the bishop in the exercise of his ministry." It is the right being implicitly invoked and exercised by priests in their recent letters to bishops and bishops' conferences. John Lynch, a canon lawyer who has written on the rights of priests, frequently asserts that the "cleric shares in the episcopal ministry." Interestingly, he roots his claim precisely in the first canon in the section on rights and obligations, canon 273: "Clerics are bound by a spe-cial obligation to show reverence and obedience to the supreme pontiff and their own ordinary." Lynch's claim is derived from three Vatican Council II documents. The Decree on the Ministry and Life of Priests (Presbyterorum ordinis, §7) says: "Priestly obedi-ence, inspired through and through by the spirit of coop-eration, is based on that sharing of the episcopal ministry which is conferred on priests by the sacrament of order 64.2 2005 Keenan ¯ Framing the Ethical Rights of Priests and the canonical mission." Similarly, The Bishops' Pastoral Office (Christus Dominus, §28) says: "All priests, whether diocesan or religious, share and exercise with the bishop the one priesthood of Christ." Finally, Lumen gentium §28 declares: "The bishop is to regard his priests, who are his coworkers, as sons and friends, just as Christ called his disciples no longer servants but friends." Interestingly, the special obedience that the cleric owes his bishop is based on his sharing in the episcopal min-istry itself. This ethical right is found not only in the Code, its commentary, and Vatican documents. It is found also in the rite of ordination. The first question the bishop asks the ordinand is: "Are you resolved, with the help of the Holy Spirit, to discharge without fail the office of priest-hood in the presbyteral order as a conscientious fellow worker with the bishops in caring for the Lord's flock?" Then in the prayer of consecration we hear the bishop say: "Lord, grant also to us such fellow workers, for we are weak and our need is greater. Almighty Father, grant to this servant of yours the dignity of the priesthood. Renew within him the Spirit of holiness. As a coworker with the order of bishops, may he be faithful to the min-istry that he receives from you, Lord God, and be to others a model of right conduct." In sum, various foun-dational texts recognize the priest as having a share in the exercise of episcopal authority. For this to be conveyed as a right, I suggest that it would be implied in "respect-ful" sharing. When we hear of priests' repeated unsuccessful attempts to meet with their ordinary, we learn that this right is not adequately recognized. In fact, when we note the phenomenon of public letters written and signed by priests, we ought to see this not so much as an indication of that right being exercised, but rather as expressing frus- Review for Religious tration that the presumed right has been ignored. Priests are "going public" because in many instances the right has been long bypassed. When routinely exercised and recognized, the right would foster community, the life of the diocese, and the credibility of episcopal leadership. The Right of Association The right of sharing in the ministry of the bishop leads to fostering right relations among the clergy through association. Canon 275, ~1, states: "Since cler-ics all work for the same purpose, namely, the building up of the Body of Christ, they are to be united among themselves by a bond of brotherhood and prayer and strive for cooperation among themselves according to the prescripts of particular law." Immediately after this paragraph, the Code adds, "Clerics are to acknowledge and promote the mission which the laity, each for his or her part, exercises in the church and in the world." Thus, associations of clerics have reason not to create separa-tion from laypersons, but rather to promote their involvement. In fact, in an earlier draft of the Code, priests were called to recognize the laity's mission; in the promulgated Code they are called to promote it. Though canon 215 defined the right of all the Christian faithful, both lay and clergy, to form associa-tions, canon 278 establishes it as the first canonical right for priests. The Code reads: "Secular clerics have the right to associate with others to pursue purposes in keep-ing with the clerical state." This is the first time that canon law recognized this ethical right. Moreover, in developing the revised Code, the com-mission rejected a proposal that placed associations of priests under the local ordinary. To do so would be to infringe on the exercise of the very right that was being promulgated. 64.2 2005 Keenan * Framing the Ethical Rights of Priests The Code derives its inspiration from the natural law and from the writings of previous pontiffs. For instance, in his encyclical Pacem in terris (§24), Pope John xxIII upholds the natural right to assemble and says that peo-ple "have also the right to give the societies of which they are members the form they consider most suitable for the aim they have in view." He adds: "It is most necessary that a wide variety of societies or intermediate bodies be established equal to the task of accomplishing what the individual cannot by himself efficiently achieve. These societies., are to be regarded as an indispensable means in safeguarding the dignity and liberty of the human per-son, without harm to his sense of responsibility." Thus from the natural law, our own experience, papal encyclicals, and the Code itself, we recognize the ethical right of priests to form associations. Throughout the United States we have seen in the past few years free-standing priests' associations emerge (the Boston Priests Forum, New York's Voice of the Ordained). This ethical right validates these groups. Their recent initiatives to form local movements are congruent with good thinking within the church. Moreover, these organizations do not replace presbyteral councils, but represent a few of what Pope John xxIII referred to as the "wide varieties" of gatherings necessary for human flourishing. The Right to Exercise Their Ministry While priests have an obligation to exercise their priestly ministry, they also have a right to exercise that ministry according to their particular judgment. Here we can think of pastors, for instance, who must discern whether this particular couple is actually ready to get married in the church. And there are instances where the appropriate place or time for a child's baptism is something that pastors must discern. Review for Religqous The question of the exercise of ministry was raised recently by the Boston Priests Forum regarding preach-ing. They wanted to reflect on what is at stake when the chancery defends a particular value and a pastor won-ders whether he ought to raise in his sermon another possibly competitive value. To what degree is he called to exercise his ministry as expressing his particular voca-tion? In the USCCB document on Sunday homilies Fulfilled in Your Hearing, we find the bishops calling the pastor to listen to the Scriptures and to the congregation and to respond to that listening. Is there something that hap-pens existentially in that listening that could prompt the pastor to hear the needs of the laity of his parish in some other way than what a statement from the chancery may convey? Could there also be times when laypersons believe that something beyond what the chancery has articulated needs to be recognized? And if the cleric, in all this listening, is also obliged "to foster peace and har-mony based on justice" as canon 287 states, could he find himself eventually perceiving an obligation in con-science to respond as a preacher of the Word to the par-ticular congregation he serves? This is not advocacy for rebel priests. Rather it rec-ognizes both the context in which a cleric exercises his ministry and the process by which he comes to articulate the sermon and other forms of ministry. Though by his faculties a priest exercises his ministry at the bishop's pleasure, there seems to be another claim on the priest that comes not from the bishop directly, but from the people whom the priest serves. If the priest is to truly promote peace and justice and communio, it seems that in discerning how to do so he needs to rely on something in addition to the bishops' particular will. Like other expressions of his ministry that he shares with the bishop 147 64.2 200~ Keenan * Framing the Ethical Rights of Priests and with the laity, a priest's preaching calls for a consci-entious integrity to witness to the gospel as he sees it expressed in his midst. The Right to Fair Treatment To appreciate this right we need to turn to the zero-tolerance policy as it appears (§§56-60) in the Report on the Crisis in the Catholic Church in the United States by the National Review Board for the Protection of Children and Young People. There the ten lay authors note that the policy "was deemed necessary because some bishops and religious superiors in their assessment of sexual abuse of minors by priests under their authority badly under-estimated the seriousness of the misconduct and harm to victims, and allowed wrongdoers to continue in posi-tions of ministry, from which they went on to harm oth-ers." They conclude: "To prevent any recurrence of such situations, the charter and essential norms remove any further discretion on the part of bishops and religious superiors in this regard." But what, then, is the net effect on an offending priest? Here the report notes: "Accordingly, the zero-tolerance policy applies without regard to any assess-ment of the degree of culpability of an offending priest based upon such factors as (i) the nature of the sexual act (e.g., the improper touching of a fully clothed teenager versus the sodomization of a child), (ii) the fre-quency of abuse (e.g., an isolated event versus a pro-tracted history), or (iii) efforts to address the problem (e.g., successful treatment of a problem that had led to an act of abuse years ago versus untreated problems that manifested themselves more recently). The policy also applies with equal fbrce to a priest who reports himself as having engaged in an act of abuse in an effort to obtain help with his problem." Review for Religious Fair treatment usually observes some form of due proportionality. And, though the review board acknowl-edges objections from a variety of observers about the fairness and effectiveness of the policy and though they write "the zero-tolerance policy may seem to be too blunt an instrument for universal application," they believe, nonetheless, "that for the immediate future the zero-tolerance policy is essential to the restoration of the trust of the laity in the leadership of the church, provided that it is appropriately applied. In assessing individual cases in order to determine whether the priest engaged in an act of sexual abuse of a minor, the bishops must consult with the diocesan lay review board, so that they may strive for individualized justice in light of their developing experience and expertise." The report's caveat with regard to appropriate pro-cedures and diocesan lay review could serve, then, as a witness to the fair treatment of priests, but that witness needs to be guaranteed by the national review commit-tee as it endorses the zero-tolerance policy. Inasmuch as review boards recognize disparity regarding their role and the application of appropriate procedures, they need to witness to priests' rights as well as to the rights of the laity, especially children. Finally, they acknowledge "that any discussion of the charter's zero-tolerance provision would be incomplete without noting that there is no equivalent policy of zero tolerance for bishops o.r provincials who allowed preda-tor priests to remain in or return to ministry despite knowledge of the risks. In fact, in the minds of some priests, the impression was created that the Dallas char- Fair treatment usually observes some form of due proportionality. 64.2 200~ Keenan ¯ Framing the Ethical Rights of Priests 1501 ter and the essential norms were the bishops' attempt to deflect criticism from themselves and onto individual priests . Priests, who now stand uneasily under a sword of Damocles, with their every action scrutinized, under-standably may ask why the bishops do not face such con-sequences if they fail to abide by the charter. This distinction has deteriorated the relationship between priests and bishop." The report concludes this section stating that the bishops "must show that they are willing to accept responsibility and consequences for poor leadership." Fairness then cuts two ways. Not only ought due pro-portionality emerge somehow in the treatment of accused and offending priests, but priests alone cannot and should not bear the weight of the scandal. If a zero-tolerance policy is applied to priests, where is an analogous policy for the scandalous bishops? The scandal will only come to rest when justice has been served, but an inequitable justice is not justice. The national review board has, then, two more responsibili-ties: They must somehow guarantee that due process and due proportionality are granted to priests, and they must hold proportionally accountable both the offending priests and the offending bishops. I want to conclude on a hopeful note. When we read the report, there is the impression that the writers are talking to two constituencies: the bishops and the laity. Regarding priests, they are more talking about them than talking to them. This has been in large measure a com-mon way that judges, reporters, advocates, and others have proceeded. Everyone tries to engage the bishops in order to talk about priests. I propose these four rights--one about participatory leadership, another about right to associate, a third about ministerial vocation, the fourth about fairness--with the hope that these may further encourage the voice of the Review for Religious clergy. Throughout these recent years, when occasionally, though not at all often enough, priests have addressed either the harm and shame attached to the abuse of chil-dren or the rights of the laity and bishops, they have usually done so in the place that they are called to be: the parish pulpit. I suggest that if priests begin to recognize the rights due them--especially at a time when many find themselves, as the report states, demoralized--they might in turn be more vocal from that pulpit in recog-nizing the rights of others and in fostering the communio that the Church so desperately needs. Healing grace always accompanies restorative justice. My Novitiate When I arrived, I was bankrupt: empty, nicotine-stained, desperate, hungry and broke. I had been robbed by those who loved me. The vault held nothing sacred. The bed you gave me was comfortable. I hardly felt the stretching. You smiled and I hoped. Copper penny joy clinked as it hit the floor and echoed in my soul. One by one, the nickels came. Prayer became my treasure. I grew rich with coins of every size. Celibacy became an asset, obedience, my wealth. Who knew that poverty could h'old so much? Finally that time has come. At profession I ask. "Where now may I spend?" Grace Gallant $SM 64.2 2005' ANNE MUNLEY Faith and Solidarity in Action At the heart of religious life is a conviction that the healing and liberating mission of Jesus is for all times and all peoples. This grand mission, the impe-tus for apostolic energy and service, is succinctly stated in the Gospel of John: "I came that they may have life and have it abundantly" (Jn 10:10). The mission of bear-ing life is common to women religious throughout the world. Though of many cultures, the nearly one million women religious in today's world are of one heart in pas-sionate commitment to bringing to birth God's dream of unity, justice, peace, and abundance of life for all. Brought into existence to support leaders of women's religious congregations and to link congregations in ful-filling their life-giving mission of love and service, the International Union of Superiors General (UISG) holds a plenary session every three years to bring members together in an atmosphere of prayer and support to con- Anne Munley IHM, a member of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (Scranton, Pennsylvania), is director of Programs and Social Mission at the International Union of Superiors General (UISG); Piazza di Ponte Sant'Angelo 28; 00186 Roma; Italy. Review for Religious sider urgent matters facing religious life and God's peo-ple. In May 2004 almost eight hundred members gath-ered in Rome for five days to reflect on the theme "Women Disciples of Jesus--Bearers of Reconciliation for Our World." This was an apt theme at a time when millions of people in various parts of the world are suf-fering the consequences of war, violence, abuse of power, and divisions of every kind. Before coming to the UISG plenary session, each con-gregational leader was asked to reflect prayerfully on the following scriptural passage: "For anyone who is in Christ, there is a new creation . It is all God's work. It was God who reconciled us to himself, and gave us the work of handing on this reconciliation" (2 Co 5:17- 18). Those planning the session also requested that each participant, bring a symbol that reflected efforts of the sisters of her congregation to enter into God's work of reconciliation in those parts of the world in which the congregation ministers. Since UISG consists of approx-imately thirty-five regional groups called constellations, delegates representing the constellations were similarly requested to bring pertinent symbols. To engage all UISG members in reflection on the theme, the UISG Bulletin (No. 123, 2003, 21-33) pub-lished in five languages an article by Robert Schreiter CPPS tided "A Spirituality of Reconciliation." It explores the biblical basis for a spirituality of reconciliation and suggests five principles that flow from Paul's reflections on reconciliation in 2 Corinthians 5:17-20: (1) Reconciliation is first and foremost the work of God; (2) God's reconciling work begins with the victim; (3) God makes of both victim and wrongdoer a "new creation"; (4) we place our suffering inside the story of the suffer-ing, death, and resurrection of Christ; and (5) full rec-onciliation will happen only when God will be all in all. 64.2 2005 Munley ¯ Faith and Solidarity in Action A strength of the UISG plenary session is that it gathers congregational leaders who have direct experience of religious life and the joys and sufferings of people in all parts of theworld. 1,54 Schreiter speaks of wounds the wounds of victims and of those who would help them as entry points for a spirituality of reconciliation that connects people's sto-ries to the story of Jesus, the "wounded healer." This image speaks to the experience of women religious who, though recognizing their woundedness, persist in efforts to bring about reconciliation because through their faith they are enlivened by God's healing action in their lives. For the God of life nothing is impossible. Hope arises out of confidence in what God will bring forth. A strength of the UISG plenary session is that it gath-ers in one place at one time congregational leaders who have direct expe-rience of religious life and the joys and sufferings of people in all parts of the world. In a multicultural and multilingual meet-ing, prayer, ritual, liturgy, music, dance, and other artistic media are path-ways to mutual understanding and relationship. Explanations of con-gregational and constellation symbols enabled partici-pants to enter into situations in need of reconciliation in other parts of the world and to glimpse the realities of women religious seeking to respond to various circum-stances crying out for healing. It was a humbling expe-rience to hear stories of what being called to be "bearers of reconciliation" means in different parts of the world. Some were stories of steadfast witness in the face of incomprehensible human suffering. Table conversations Review for Religious helped us to understand the stories more intimately, to see into these stories with the "eyes" and "hearts" of oth-ers. Prayer, ritual, and a Power Point presentation of images of people's needs and of sisters' endeavors towards reconciliation and healing provided an enriching pre-lude for further theological development of the theme by Diane Bergant CSA. Working with the biblical accounts of the reconciliation of Jacob and Esau and of Joseph and his brothers, Bergant stressed that it is will-ingness to forgive on the part of the one offended that opens up possibilities for reconciliation and healing of relationships. Participants reflected as well on stories of particular efforts to bring reconciliation to painful situations within the church, society, and religious congregations. These stories were told with eloquent simplicity by three con-gregational leaders. They shared personal experiences of serving in leadership at a time when issues of abuse, life-and-death consequences of ethnic and tribal war-fare, and the need to reconcile long-standing congrega-tional divisions demanded great outpouring of time and energy and unremitting trust in the guidance of the Spirit. Sharing on the part of two congregational leaders from Iraq about the impact of the war on the people among whom their sisters minister evoked poignant response and heartfelt expressions of support and soli-darity. These presentations put flesh on what it means to lead as a "wounded healer." What wove the plenary session, together was a reflec-tion model that moved from sharing experiences (see-ing) to situating reflection in the word of God (judging) to acting on the basis of shared convictions. Throughout the session a writing committee gleaned key ideas and various suggested action steps and fashioned them into a 64.2 200~ Munley ¯ Faith and Solidarity in Action draft version that was brought back and discussed, then further revised, and ultimately approved unanimously in an atmosphere of expectant hope and joy. Here is that approved declaration: Declaration of the International Union of Superior.s General Women Disciples of Jesus Christ: Bearers of Reconciliation in Our World For anyone who is in Christ there is a new creation . It is all God's work. It was God who reconciled us to him-self and gave us the work of handing on this reconcilia-tion. (2 Corinthians Y:17-18) We live in a time of extreme violence, a time when lights of hope and reconciliation are desper-ately needed.We are nearly 800 women leaders from 69 countries and five continents. The International Union of Superiors General repre-sents members of Catholic religious institutes in 98 countries throughout the world. We believe that no more important mission exists at this time than to be bearers of the reconciling hope for which the world cries. Believing that reconciliation is God's desire for the world, we humbly declare our reliance upon God, the source of reconciliation and the source of all healing and forgiveness. We know too that we are not alone as we journey with people of many faiths and traditions who long for a reconciled world. We walk with them in our insecurity, fragility, and need for continuous conversion of heart, recognizing our common desire to make inclusive love and the search for truth the basic principles that govern our lives. As leaders we commit ourselves to work with one another, with the members of our institutes and Review for Religious national conferences of religious by: Living a spirituality of reconciliation. We will witness in community this spirituality of compas-sion, respect, courage, truth, and reconciling hope. Proclaiming publicly our commitment to be bear-ers of reconciliation. We will: ¯ collaborate with other associations for justice, res-olution of conflict, and an end to war in all its forms. ¯ use the media to announce an alternative vision, tell stories of reconciliation, and denounce violence and injustice. ¯ create and promote dialogue, understanding, and reconciliation among peoples, cultures, and reli-gions. ¯ intensify efforts toward healing, reconciliation, and right relationships between women and men. ¯ continue to intensify our efforts, as bearers of rec-onciliation in the world, to eradicate the traffick-ing of women and children. ¯ promote the education and formation of women and girls. ¯ be proactive in peace building and in caring for all creation. We move forward as women religious leaders, disciples of Jesus Christ. We are firm in our belief that, in solidarity with others, our members will collaborate in the Spirit's work of transforming the world. While this 2004 UISG declaration is a Wonderful out-come of the plenary session, an even more precious out-come is the strengthening of the "invisible ties" that bind the women religious of the world together in a spirit of solidarity and collaboration. A poetic prayer by Macrina Wiederkehr suggests an image that pertains not only to 64.2 2005 Munley ¯ Faith and Solidarity in Action the work of the UISG session, but also to the ~uture that is yet to be born: On tiptoe we stand, Lord Jesus ,, eagerly awaiting always expecting you to come some more. Our hands and heart are open to your grace. Our lives are still waiting for the fullness of your presence. We are those who have been promised a kingdom, and we can never forget. Yet we have a foot in both worlds and so we stumble. But we stand on tiptoe, owning our-kingdom-loving hearts and our earth-eyes. We lean forward and hope. (Seasons of Your Heart, 69) Those who had been present left the 2004 UISG ses-sion deeply aware that the women religious of the world are indeed "standing on tiptoe" together. Review for Religiou~ MILLIE CARGAS Women Religious in Treatment for Addictions In early childhood Sister Miriam was sexually assaulted by a family member, a parish assistant, and a neighbor down the road. These malefac-tors never had to answer for their uncon-scionable acts, but Sister Miriam (names have been changed) has paid a high price for them. After many years of competent service in the nursing profession, she was directed to go for treatment of her serious addiction to substance abuse. Sister Miriam is not alone. Many other women religious, with differing stories, have ceased functioning healthily in their ministries and communities. "Women religious" means in this article Catholic women who have taken vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience in one or other religious institute or congregation. Sisters with addictions? Women religious in rehabilitative psychological treatment programs is a difficult concept to accept when typical feel-ings toward sisters are of good, giving, self-sac- Millie Cargas is a registered art therapist (ATR), and her address is 127 Park Avenue; St. Louis, Missouri 63122. 64. 2 200Y Cargas ¯ Women Religious in Treatment for Addictions 160 rificing persons. We remember these valiant women as our teachers, as nurses, parish administrators, and other professional helpers. Often they have been highly respected and admired; people have emulated them. They are capable and articulate persons who have for-saken the materialistic world for the kingdom beyond-- and now they need therapeutic treatment? Yes, for they are human. Like all of us, they need help sometimes. No religious order has escaped the scourge of dys-functions caused by addictive behaviors. The life of Sister Anne had spiraled out of control as her weight climbed to a dangerous three hundred pounds. She could no longer play kickball with eager boys or jump rope with high-spirited girls. During a visit to her internist, Sister Anne was sternly warned of imminent death unless she took immediate steps to reduce the strain on heart and lungs. In response she claimed she had always had a weight problem just as her whole family did; it was not her fault, and nothing could be done. Her intractable anger and alarming obesity, however, limited her physical and professional activities severely and made her a difficult, contrary, and noncontributing member of her community. Sister Anne's uncontrolled addiction to food was not only causing havoc in her pro-fessional life, but was deeply affecting all her relation-ships. Though she did not see the need for treatment, leadership mandated it. This is not always the case. A significant number of other sisters ask for help, realizing, as one said, "I can no longer live this way." Humbled, she admitted her powerlessness. There are various treatment centers in North America. To mention a few: Guest House in Lake Orion, Michigan, and Emmaus Community in Elberon, New Jersey, are for sisters only. Behavioral Medicine Institute and St. Louis Consultation Center, both in St. Louis, Review for Religious Missouri, St. Luke's in Silver Spring, Maryland, Ecclesia Center in Girard, Pennsylvania, and Southdown in Ontario, Canada, are for both men and women religious. Before acceptance into a treatment program, the applicant participates in a series of pretreatment evalu-ations comprising interviews by various staff members, extensive psychological test-ing, and a thorough medical exam. Although therapeutic programs vary, the major components are individual counseling, group sessions, physical activities, spiritual direction, and programs tai-lored to individuals. Sister - - William Mary was a master gardener. Itwas her profes-sion. But gambling was her downfall. Her healthcare facility allowed, her to include gardening in her treat-ment program as long as it contributed to her recovery and was not distracting or distancing her from others. A simple definition of art therapy is using artistic materials in therapy or as therapy. Art Therapy Some treatment curriculums have incorporated art therapy as an effective therapy. This is my area of exper-tise. I have worked with Catholic women and men reli-gious for twenty-five years. I have ~ecently conducted several week-long art-therapy workshops specifically for religious women. A simple definition of art therapy is using artistic materials in therapy or as therapy. For exam-ple, the resident is given a subject and asked to paint or draw images and/or abstract designs. The imagery and other graphic dimensions of art therapy offer a unique way of identifying feelings and expressing oneself. It dif-fers considerably from verbal communication, which can 64.2 2005 Cargas ¯ Wo~nen Religious in Treat~nent for Addictions be insufficient or restricting. A case study illustrates this. Sister Katherine had joined a teaching order even though she was woefully shy and became almost inartic-ulate in group settings. She became the community financial officer. To bolster her much-needed self-con-fidence, she went on shopping sprees that her financial .resources were able to fund. This gave her illusions of power that brought her deeper and deeper into her addiction. This irresponsible money management landed her in therapy, Because she had no experience in art, Sister Katherine felt great risk at getting into it. She did so only reluctantly and even ~belligerently. But, to her great surprise and indeed pleasure, she discovered that her images had a way of speaking and engaging others that her hesitant words and extravagant spending had not. This was real progress for her. Understandably, people fear getting into something new. They fear to make mistakes, to expose their lack of artistic ability. They bring up such familiar objections as "I can't draw a straight line" and "I'm no artist" and "I haven't done art since grade school" as they fight the fears of appearing awkward and becoming embarrassed. Finding a new way of expressing oneself in colors, shapes, and designs in either representational or abstract imagery takes courage. Once they get over their fears, their endeavors are often richly rewarded. Some women revealed skills that they were unaware they had. Others had allowed their artistic talent to lie dormant for far too long. But in art therapy, whether or not the persons are artistically skilled, they eventually welcome the opportunity to go beyond words. An art-therapy badge at one convention appropriately declared, "When words are not enough!" The women in the workshops often relish their wordless therapy once they have worked through their initial resist~ince to art therapy or, more Revie~ for Religious commonly, their anger at finding themselves in treat-ment in the first place. Art Therapy Described The actual week-long art-therapy workshops are all group oriented. After a brief introduction I define the type of art which will be used in the workshop. I stress that artistic talent, no matter how people understand it, is less important than each one's own innate creativity and willingness to plunge into the activity. In these cir-cumstances there is no right or wrong way to do art. I emphasize that one cannot make mistakes, and I advise the group to ignore their own all-too-dominating inner critics. I repeatedly state throughout the week that the process is as important as the product, if not more so. Each session begins with a particular focus. Sometimes I hand out a picture, a poem, or a brief essay to assist creativity, and I always have some music played to support the theme. At age seventy-five Sister Jeanne just knew she was not going to like this mandatory part of her treatment program. But, being a prayerful per-son, she would listen to the proposed topics with her eyes closed, allow the music to seep in, and pray to the Holy Spirit for help. And helpful imagery did appear to her receptive mind and soul. She allowed her initial resis-tance to bow out gracefully and opened herself to lis-tening, ready to entertain new possibilities. Sister Jeanne was a pharmacist, and her issue was addiction to pur-loined prescription medicines. Now, if she could open herself up to some new and different perceptions and experiences, perhaps she could also consider trying alter-native ways of alleviating the pain of her arthritic con-dition. The broad themes of art therapy range from fun and pleasure to themes that are darker and more threatening. 64.2 2005 Cargas * Women Religious in Treatment for Addictions The artistic creations take on a life of their own. Sister Ren~, from Germany, had been sexually abused at a very early age. Paradoxically, she had never actually accepted the art-therapy discipline and yet always com-pleted the assignments--though without enthusiasm. Her colleagues, however, were astonished by her pow-erful imagery done in blacks and grays and blurred opaques. Even though she "resisted" art therapy, she was illuminating, minimally but really, the darkness of her horrendous experiences. Participants are free to work with the broad theme that has been proposed or to select just a small aspect of it to explore more intensively. The themes are vast and varied. Here are just a few that have proved provocative and success-ful: journey, relationships, aging, play, transforma-tion of issues, sexuality, ambiguities, emotions, self-worth, self-identity, joys, anxieties, mixed messages, and change. The "journey" theme can be depicted in any number of ways, including the classic one of marking each milestone in life. Or highlights of success or failure might be featured. Or perhaps the sisters emphasize the eternal goal of their journey. When they have completed their art pieces, each sis-ter presents hers to the group for comments and reac-tions, but specifically not for analysis. The meaning of her work is primarily for her to determine, not those who have not lived her experiences--although the oth-ers' reactions, questions, and support may bring her to deeper insights or different revelations than she origi-nally had in mind. Sister Jude, an elementary teacher with addictions to both food and alcohol, created many figures of herself. Although she was fifty-five years old, Review for Religious they all looked like little girls. She was startled when this was pointed out, but now she was in a position to acknowledge such a "disconnect" in other therapies if she so wished. At the end of the week, each person displays her total body of work to the group. There is always amazement that so much could be done in a short time, that so many issues could be covered in some depth in just a week. As Sister Norine finished presenting all of her works, she said she felt empty, completely drained. She had exhausted her psychic energy. Others in the group read-ily realized that they had similar feelings. Summing Up The art belongs to its creator. Each person does what-ever she wishes with it. Many use a particular piece in their ongoing counseling as it illustrates or illuminates a specific issue. Sister Irene's picture of her attempted sui-cide was more frightening than her bland emotionless oral description. Some pictures have deservedly been framed. Others have been shown with pride or for disclosure to trusted empathetic friends. Others have been destroyed for reasons only to be surmised. No one seems to have been untouched by the week's experiences, which brought forth a myriad of emotions, memories, and hopes. The artistic creations take on a life of their own. They give graphic evidence of people's psychic state and are more permanent than spoken words. They lend themselves to further explorations as the client grows in self-knowledge. They reveal aspects that perhaps were not noted on first viewing. During one workshop the spiritual director asked the group to bring their art on spirituality to the group session the following week. She was impressed by the images created with regard to such a profound and elusive subject. Spirituality is the bedrock 64.2 2005 Cargus * Women Religious in Treatment for Addictions for religious women, and so their attempts to capture it in art are as challenging as they are moving. It is exhilarating to observe artistry and creativity emerge while clients are learning to trust and appreciate their own endeavors. Those who never considered them-selves artistic are often amazed and delighted with their creative results. They have not become "more" artistic, but they have gone beyond their own all-too-limited per-ceptions of their creative abilities. Art has a transformative effect through its ability to transcend time, space, and earthly boundaries. The clients just described have taken risks in telling the group their own sacred stories with the help of original art that enlightens their listeners but most importantly them-selves. One treatment center director told me about being confronted by a new group of residents .upset by the announcement that the regular week's schedule was suspended and that art therapy would replace it. She told them she could not adequately explain why art therapy works or what its therapeutic benefits are, but promised it would work. The group would understand art's bene-fit more clearly and convincingly later. And they did. Creativity is healing. To call forth new possibilities-- a definition of creativity--is to find new directions toward healthier lifestyles. To create new views, rather than remain stuck in old destructive patterns, is some-thing that art can offer. The overeater can picture a thin-ner body; the alcoholic can picture a cornucopia of renewal; the burnt-out person can picture a serene land-scape; and the spendthrift can visualize a pleasing bal-ance and proportion. Art therapy cannot guarantee change, of course, but it can offer graphic glimpses of hope, and hope is a'forerunner to change. It is important to appreciate that these previously functioning women who have gone into treatment have Review for Religious been given and are taking time out for themselves, per-haps for the first time. In a lifetime of giving to others, they are now receiving. Such a respite from their ordi-nary busyness allows them to tell their stories and to explore their concerns by means of art, and art can enlarge and deepen their creative potential. The art-therapy experience encourages people to leave the abyss of addictive behavior behind and try something new. Homemade imagery can reinvigorate deadened or tired emotions and bring joy back into their lives and their spiritual selves. Accepting and working with their cre-ativity assists wounded souls to move from humiliation to humbleness and towards the kingdom where we are all meant to dwell. Easter Monday Morning Prayer 0 God of my forever rising who alone can slip twixt bones and sinews probing the marrow of my being to the dark recesses of my heart wherein by my sin you have been entombed, carving away the stone, I beg you, up-raise me this day with you again and always and forever. Alleluia. Amen. Elizabeth McDonough OP 64.2 200~ VILMA SEELAUS Asceticism and Chaste Celibate Love T biblical understanding of God is captured in ee words: God is love. Created as we are in the image and likeness of God, the core of our being is a "being-in-love" with God.1 Because of our radical con-nection with God, we are conceived and born into the world as preconscious predispositions for love. As Rahner puts it, "man is the event of God's absolute self-com-munication.'' 2 Love therefore is the root and foundation of our being. Life's deepest challenge is to fully accept and give human expression to this foundational reality of love. The vow we call consecrated chastity, or chaste celibacy, has everything to do with love. By it we open ourselves to becoming fully loving persons. Chaste love is love that is single-hearted. Single-hearted love does not of itself exclude a genital expres-sion. Chaste loving is the universal call that includes both married persons and persons who remain single. In mar- Vilma Seelaus OCD last wrote for us in September-October 1999. Her address is Carmelite Monastery; 25 Watson Avenue; Barrington, Rhode Island 02806. Review for Religious riage, love is meant to have a genital expression. The religious vow is not only of chaste love, but also of chaste celibacy intended as a total response to God's uncondi-tional love. The single-hearted love to which religious vow themselves is at the heart of the kind of loving to which we are all invited as human beings. As consecrated celibates we vow to live out in a chaste celibate way the love relationship with God, and with one another, to which all persons are invited.3 Fidelity in chaste celibate loving has its own unique call for asceticism; celibate love must include asceticism. Celibacy for God means that one has a desire to receive God's love and to become passionately in love with God, expressing it in the vow of chaste celibacy. Today we increasingly recognize what the mystics have known for centuries: that, in our universe and in the heart of every human l~erson, there is an energy which as Christians we know to be God's creating love in all that exists. St. Teresa of Avila in her Sixth Dwelling Places describes a remarkable vision in which she sees all things in God. In this vision, "God is like an immense and beautiful dwelling or palace, and this palace is God himself." Teresa now sees all things as taking place in God and therefore in Love. All human love is either an expres-sion or a distortion of this one love, namely, God's unconditional love embracing and encircling the human family. Teresa writes: Could the sinner, perhaps, so as to engage in his evil deeds leave this palace? No, certainly not; rather, within the palace itself, that is, within God himself, the abominations, indecent actions, and evil deeds committed by us sinners take place . The greatest evil of the world is that God, our Creator, suffers so many evil things from his creatures within his very self and that we sometimes resent a word said in our absence and perhaps with no evil intention.4 [16.9 64.2 2005 Seelaus * Asceticism and Chaste Celibate Lo~e How true isoit that even self-centered, narcissistic love contains within itself in a diffused, distorted way the energies ' of divine°iove? 170 Our life unfolds in God! Postmodern Christian ecolog-ical theologians see this reality as the basis of God's rad-ical immanence in the world and as the human challenge to respect and care for the ecological systems of our planet earth, symbolized as the body of God.5 Chaste loving extends itself to loving care of the world in which we live, which, in one of his less-known poems, John of the Cross images as the palace created by God for "all the members of the just," who are "the body of the bride" of the eter-nal Word.6 In viewing all of human love within the ambience of God's creat-ing energy of love, we see how out of harmony is the so-called "sexual revolu-tion," which seeks sexual pleasure apart from genuine love between persons. Yet even self-centered, narcissistic love contains within itself in a diffused, distorted way the energies of divine love. The human urgency for union with God, who alone can offer unconditional love, easily finds expression in dif-fused and distorted ways when God's love is unrecog-nized or rejected. Aware of this reality, Jesus had and has great compassion for all of us, who in ways small or great live love's distortions. Asceticism enlarges the heart to receive a greater out-pouring of God's love. It also allows the energies of divine love to flow more freely through us into the lives of others. This asceticism is a matter of self-denial and self-emptying.7 What we deny ourselves and allow God to empty out are the things within us or around us that we tend to hold on to tenaciously. The purpose of asceti- Review for Religious cism is freedom for self-surrender, not self-punishment, not the giving up of things out of self-hate. Rather, gen-uine asceticism springs from a desire to be rooted in love. It is an expression of our willingness for our love to be freed of its distortions. The asceticism that leads to self-surrender can be sustained only in prayerful com-munion with God and is itself a form of prayer. Self-sur-render softens the soil of our inner being so that stubborn willfulness may more easily be uprooted by God, leaving room for God to plant seeds of willing-ness. 8 These are seeds of the Christ-life. Frans JozefVan Beeck, the Dutch theologian, in an early work of his titled Christ Proclaimed, points out that Jesus "was with-out the need for anxious self-possession, self-mainte-nance, and self-affirmation." Jesus was content to receive his being in a stance of total surrender to his Father.9 To love is to love someone--other persons as well as God. Self-denial can be psychologically harmful and even sinful outside of the context of our relationship with other people and with God. There is, however, some-thing in our being that clings to aloneness, to private and even narcissistic self-possession, distorting the inner solitude of our uniqueness. This distortion, the denial of relatedness, is sin. Sin would have us cling to our sep-arateness as something absolute. This is an ontological illusion, but it nevertheless lures us to rest on its com-forting bosom in the hope of avoiding the pain that comes with reaching out in love. Relatedness can be painful, as we discover early. Although other persons reflect our uniqueness and help us discover our gifts and potential, they also mirror our inadequacies. As we struggle with the demands of friend-ship and human encounter, that relatedness undermines personal myths of omnipotence and reveals our finitude. The insecurity of finitude is hard to accept, and, just as 7171 64.2 200~ Seelaus * Asceticism and Chaste Celibate Love 172 others willy-nilly make demands of us, we place all kinds of expectations on ourselves to be all-knowing and all-capable, to be fully adequate to every situation. Amid these usually unconscious self-expectations, the gifts and talents of others threaten us, so we turn them off or become defensive. Insofar as we are out of touch with these inner movements, enW, jealousy, and competi-tiveness keep us outside of the unifying energies of God's love that flow between people. The opposite can also happen. Self-doubt can so overwhelm us that we give up trying. The gentle vigilance of self-knowledge is an excel-lent form of asceticism. Self-knowledge keeps us in touch with the polluting elements that can be present in love's stream. Self-knowledge looks squarely at emotional and attitudinal dams that cause love's flow to stagnate.1° It strengthens us to bear the pain of our failures as we struggle to learn new patterns of behavior more expres-sive of love. The asceticism of self-knowledge necessar-ily opens us to a deeper understanding of God in our life. God is compassionate, unconditional love; God accepts us just as we are. Imperfection is normative to our finitude. For us to be perfect is to accept the reality of our imperfection. God's only expectation seems to be that we surrender to God's Trinitarian love and that we ourselves become passionate lovers. Fasting is a very traditional and helpful form of asceticism. As self-punishment it is harmful; nevertheless, fasting can be sincere worship. It can express genuine love toward God, who is father, mother, beloved, and friend, the source of all we have and are. The stomach's empty feeling reminds us that we are a hunger for God, who alone can fill our emptiness. Fasting can be an expression of praise and adoration of the One in whom we live and move and have our being. Jesus, alive in his Review for Religious Spirit worshiping in us, becomes more than a desire; he fills our emptiness with his own praise of his Father. Like the young Carmelite Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity, we too are destined to be a "praise of His Glory." Fasting is a form of worship; it is also a form of the prayer of petition. Our finitude has many needs. We eas-ily come to the limits of our human potential, especially in the realm of love and relat-edness. Times exist when a , relationship reaches an impasse or when persons dear to us seem stuck in self-destructive tendencies, or are struggling with seemingly impossible sit-uations. Our fasting for them can be a hidden silent petition that God nourish the loved one to newness of life. Fasting can also be a prayer for the gift of detachment from the things we cling to in anxious self-possession and which keep us from self-surrender. Asceticism therefore can take many forms. It is cru-cial to the critical moments when a committed celibate is being tempted along a path whose ending would inevitably be genital intimacy. Here one is faced with the asceticism of choice. One. needs to set appropriate boundaries to love's expression while still fostering warmth and caring in the relationship. Fidelity to love is always a paschal experience. The asceticism of choice, in this instance the appropriate channeling of love's warmth, can be painful. But it is pain that is life-giving. Unlike the repression of feelings, which imprisons the self in the turmoil of unacknowledged emotions, the asceticism of choice is an encounter with greater inner freedom and is a call to growth in love. One's pain How would I explain that fasting is a form of worship and also a form of the prayer of petition ? 64.2 200Y Seelaus ¯ Asceticism and Cbaste Celibate Love becomes redemptive not only for oneself and the loved person, but for others as well, because it springs from genuine love and is a true love response. Because love is the creating energy that sustains the universe, and its energies flow through all of'humankind, it is necessarily the very heart of the church. Therefore any decision that one makes out of love and with the intent of fostering love has apostolic value. It shares in the life-giving, redemptive mission of Christ. This real-ity is worth pondering. It broadens one's understanding of the apostolate and of the meaning of mission for con-secrated celibates. We participate in God's creating action through the choices we make, and in doing so we inevitably affect the lives of others. Decisions drawn from the deep well of love enter into love's stream flowing from the womb of God, the source of life, the one life that flows through all of humankind. Even the smallest of our decisions is like the proverbial pebble thrown into the water whose ripples expand in ever widening circles. Here I am reminded of an experience in my own life that becomes increasingly meaningful. My monastery in Rhode Island is located on Narragansett Bay. Occasionally I take an early morning walk along the beach to enjoy the sunrise reflecting itself across the water. One such morning the bay was unusually calm. As I walked along I heard a sudden strong swish of incoming surf. This usually announces the changing of the tide, but the waters of the last high tide had not yet fully ebbed out. I turned and scanned the bay. In the far distance a tiny craft was speeding across the water, split-ting its quiet surface and leaving behind rolling waves of water. As the craft disappeared between the islands, the waters returned .to their previous unruffled state. The swish at my feet settled to a calm. I have experienced this phenomenon many times, Review for Religious and it never ceases to amaze me that the movements of such a small craft, hardly visible in the distance, can affect such a large expanse of water even to a distant shore. This symbolizes for me the awesome reality that the choices we make, no matter how small, are not insignif-icant. Humanity is bonded in a common stream of con-sciousness and love; the movements of one person, toward life or toward diminishment, necessarily affect the whole. Asceticism in its many forms is a prayerful desire that not only our activity but also our entire being may be apostolic, that is, life-giving for others. It fos-ters human solidarity as an enduring reality, by creating a fleer channeling of divine life through the collective body of humankind.12 Notes 1 See Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology (New York: Seabury Press, 1972), p. 105. 2 Karl Rahner, Foundations of Christian Faith (New York: Seabury Press, 1978), p. 126. 3 This paper was first written in the 1970s. Since then, much of great value has been written regarding the vows. In this recent minor revi-sion, no attempt was made to connect with the fine work of recent authors. 4 In terior Castle, VI. 10.2- 3. Collected Works of St. Teresa ofAvila, Vol. 2, trans. Otilio Rodriguez OCD and Kieran Kavanaugh OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1980), p. 419. s See Life Abundant: Rethinking Theology and Economy for a Planet in Peril by Sallie McFague (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001), pp. 138ff. See also the writings of Thomas Berry and Brian Swimme. 6 Romances, nos. 3-6, "On Creation," in The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1991), pp. 62ff. [See especially no. 4, pp. 63-64. Ed.] 7 See Vilma Seelaus OCD, Self-Emptying: Philippians 2 and the Carmelite Tradition (Washington D.C.: ICS [Audio] Publications, 2004). 8 See Gerald May MD, Will and Spirit: A Contemplative Psychology (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1982). 64.2 200Y Seelaus * Asceticism and Chaste Celibate Love 9 Frans Jozef Van Beeck sJ, Christ Proclaimed (New York: Paulist Press, 1979), p. 421. ,0 For a further development of the value of self-knowledge, see Vilma Seelaus OCD, "Effective Ministry through Contemplative Self- Knowledge," Review for Religious 41 (May-June 1982): 390-399. " See Elizabeth of the Trinity, The Complete Works (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1984). ~2 The asceticism of chaste celibate love has yet a deeper dimension, which is the asceticism of prayer, especially contemplative prayer. To remain faithful to love and to prayer during the painful times of dark night and the seeming void of love would be a topic in itself. See Hein Blommestijn, Jos Huls, and Kees Waaijman, The Footprints of Love: John of the Cross as Guide in the Wilderness, trans. John Vriend (Leuven [Bondgenontenlaan, 153; B-3000 Leuven; Belgium]: Peeters, 2000). Prayer Psalm 73 Let the words of the psalm help you pray: Yet with you I shall always be; you have hold of my right hand; With your counsel you guide me, and in the end you will receive me in glory. Whom else have I in heaven? And when I 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 forever. But, for me, to be near God is my good; to make the Lord God my refuge. I shall declare all your works in the gates of the daughter of Zion. Revie~v for Religious ROBBER E MALONEY Snapshots of Three Lesser-Known "Saints" In 1918 the historian Lytton Strachey said in the preface of his Eminent Victorians that in writ-ing history less is often more. In other words, true selectivity is more important than volume. He wrote: "It is not by the direct method of scrupulous narration that the explorer of the past can hope to depict a singular epoch [or per-son]. If he is wise, he will adopt a subtler strat-egy. He will row out over the great ocean of material and lower down into it, here and there, a little bucket, which will bring to the light of day some characteristic specimen . . . to be examined with a careful curiosity." Surely few events say more about pex~sons than their death. Death not only closes life, it defines it. Christians have always regarded mar-tyrdom as the preeminent form of the follow-ing of Christ. From the earliest time, martyrs captured the Christian imagination and inspired Robert E Maloney CM, the former superior general of the Congregation of the Mission (Vincentians), continues to live at Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma, Italy. 64.2 2005 Maloney ¯ Snapshots of Three Lesser-Known "Saints" 1781 others to incredible heroism in living the Gospels even to the end. The Book of Revelation sings the praise of these heroes: "Love for life did not deter them from death" (12:11). Some, of course, renounce their faith rather than die a martyr's death. But for others, some-times even people whose lives seemed mediocre, death is their finest hour. In Shakespeare's Macbeth (I,iv), Malcolm says of the previous thane of Cawdor: "Nothing in his life / became him like the leaving it; he died / as one that had been studied in his death / to throw away the dear-est thing he ow'd / as 'twere a careless trifle." In this brief article, I offer a snapshots of the deaths of three lesser-known martyrs who in turbulent times were like a "lamp shining in a dark place" (2 P 1:19). Joseph Chow Tsi-Che Did you ever want to be pope? I have sometimes heard Catholics say, with a bit of humor and a bit of frus-tration: "If I were pope for a week, here is what I would do!" Of course, very few of us get that opportunity. But a priest of my own community, whom some of my older friends knew, was actually offered the job. Joseph Chow was born in 1891 in Shijiazhuang, about 180 miles south of Beijing. He made his vows in the Congregation of the Mission in 1915 and was ordained to the priesthood four years later. After serving as a pro-fessor in the minor seminary in his hometown and then as a philosophy professor in the major seminary of Beijing, he was ordained a bishop in 1931, serving ini-tially as the vicar apostolic in Baoding, not far from his birthplace. In 1946 he was named the archbishop of Nanchang, much farther to the south, a city I visited a number of years ago, where his memory is still revered. In 1950, soon after the establishment of the revolu-tionary government in China, Joseph received the invi- Review for Religious tation to become pope. A delegation from Beijing came to visit him. A writer of the time describes their con-versation as follows: "Because you have so many gifts, you have been des-ignated to be the head of the Progressive Chinese Church. Are you willing to become the pope of China?" "Do you really believe that I have the necessary qualities?" "We do." "In that case, I would prefer to become the pope of the entire world." The delegation left, angry at his refusal. From then on, he was kept under constant surveillance. In May 1951 he was arrested, tried, found guilty, and thrown into prison. The charges against him were that he had opposed the reform of the church, that he had listened to the Voice of America, and that he had recruited members for the Legion of Mary. He was condemned to forced labor, toiling in isol'ation for twenty-two Joseph Chow renounced a very prestigious offer: to be the pope of China. ConSequently, he endured a slow, arduous, hidden martyrdom. years. Just before his death he was released, so that he would not die in prison, and was carried to the home of a Christian in Nanchang. There he went peacefully to the Lord. By all accounts Joseph Chow was an extraordinarily gifted man. Those who knew him attest that he was good-humored, quite funny at times, but very clear in what he believed. He surely knew what he was willing 179 64.2 2005 Maloney ¯ Snapshots of Tbree Lesser-Known "Saints" to die for. He renounced a very prestigious offer: to be the pope of China. Consequently, he endured a slow, arduous, hidden martyrdom. In the end the government, by freeing him from prison several days before his death, tried to deprive him of the title of martyr, but Catholics in China today recognize that he was precisely that. 180 Jean Le Vacher I doubt that Jean Le Vacher will ever be beatified, even though the cause for his beatification was actually introduced in 1923. Jean was born in Val-d'Oise, France, on 15 March 1619 and entered the seminary along with his brother Philippe on 5 October 1643. He was ordained a priest in 1647 and went to Tunis almost immediately. Within a year after his arrival, the superior of the mission there died, as did the French government's representative in Tunis. Jean, at the age of twenty-nine, was named both head of the mission and French consul, a combi-nation of jobs which seems strange to us today. Two years later he also became vicar apostolic. Twenty-five years later, history repeated itself in Jean's life. Having been named vicar apostolic of both Algeria and Tunis, he again became the French consul, this time in Algeria. That is the root of the problems surrounding his beatification. On the one hand, Jean was a remarkably zealous missionary, laboring for years among the slaves in the capital, whom he estimated to number about fifteen thousand. But he was also the con-sul, a difficult political post at a time when relations between France and Algeria were steadily worsening. In late June 1683, fighting broke out. The French fleet began to bombard the capital. At the same time a plague raged within the city. The Turkish forces in Algeria asked Le Vacher to mediate peace. He, two Turkish diplomats, and an interpreter arrived under a Review for Religious white flag at the French admiral's ship. As negotiations dragged on, Admiral Duquesne was inflexible and at one point yelled at Le Vacher: "You,re more a Turk than a Christian!" During the negotiations one of the Turkish diplomats deceived the French, promising to work with them to reinstate their control over Algeria. But, once back on land, he himself seized power and began to fire on the fleet again. When the French retaliated, Le Vacher was arrested, along with the few other French citizens who remained in the capital. Le Vacher's martyrdom took place on 16 July 1683, toward sunset, on a small pier in the port. He was asked to renounce his faith and declare himself a Muslim. Instead, he bade farewell to the Christian slaves in a loud clear voice and exhorted them to remain firm in their faith. He was tied to a wooden frame which was then attached to the mouth of a cannon. Then a little drama occurred which it is affecting to recall in the midst of all the strife in the Middle East and North Africa today. None of the Muslims in the crowd was willing to light the cannon's fuse. Many Jews were there, but they too were unwilling. Finally a renegade Christian lit the fuse. Le Vacher was blown to pieces. Ten other Frenchmen followed him to the same type of death. The French campaign was ultimately unsuccessful; a shortage of supplies forced Admiral Duquesne to return home. Because of Jean Le Vacher's political post, some have questioned whether he was really a martyr. Reading the accounts of his death, I have little doubt myself. He died professing his faith courageously and encouraging others to profess it too. In fact, many followed him to death. Marguerite Rutan Marguerite Rutan was born in Metz in 1736. There, at the age of twenty, she began her postulancy in a hos- 181 64.2 200Y Maloney ¯ Snapshots of Three Lesser-Known "Saints" 182 pital as a Daughter of Charity. A year later, on her birth-day, she entered the novitiate in Paris and just five months afterwards was sent to serve at a hospital in Pau. She had the happiness of seeing her two sisters enter the same community shortly after her and the sadness of seeing both of them die at a young age. From Pau she moved to several other hospitals, finally arriving in Dax, near the border of Spain, where in 1779 she was named superior. Ten years later, with the outbreak of the French rev-olution, life became increasingly difficult for the sisters. Resources for the running of the hospital were scarce. The government provided fewer and fewer funds. After 3 October 1793 all sisters employed in running hospitals and schools had to choose between taking the oath of allegiance to the state church or leaving the institutions where they served. Sister Marguerite and her companions refused the oath. From then on they were constantly under surveillance, but their services in the hospital were so needed that they were allowed to continue. Finally, however, on 24 December 1793, Marguerite was arrested on charges of "corrupting the revolutionary, republican spirit of the soldiers who went to this hospital." What had happened, in fact, was that a group of sol-diers, to express gratitude for the care given in the hos-pital, returned to do some songs for the sisters. Sister Marguerite stopped to listen to them, offered them refreshments, and gave them some money. That was her crime. She was taken to a prison at the nearby Carmelite house. At the beginning of March 1794, a guillotine was constructed in the central ~quare of Dax. Simultaneously most prisoners were transferred to another city, but Marguerite was left in the Carmelite prison, a sign that her fate had already been decided. After a brief trial, her name was placed upon the list of those to be guillotined. A commission arrived in Dax Review for Religious to review the cases of those facing capital punishment. On 9 April after a quick hearing in which the same charges were repeated, Marguerite was condemned to death. The sentence was to be carried out immediately. She and the local cur~, also condemned, were tied back to back, placed on a cart with soldiers surrounding them, and rushed to the execution place accompanied by the sound of tambourines. Having first witnessed the behead-ing of the cur~, Marguerite asked the executioner not to assist her and mounted the scaffold by herself, removed the shawl from around her shoulders, put her head on the guillotine, and was executed. In their accounts of Marguerite's death, all observers noted her dignity. She seems to have been undaunted by the prospect of death, wearing those around her gently while speaking her mind clearly and unflinchingly right to the end. Tertullian tells us that "the blood of Christians is seed" (Apology 50.13). The martyrs strengthen those who come after them. They demonstrate that some things are worth dying for. By their witness they proclaim that fidelity to one's central commitments is more important than life itself. In the darkness of persecutions or of oppressive regimes, martyrs are like flashes of lightning that illumi-nate the nighttime sky, a surge of electricity that ener-gizes those who live on beyond them. The church has been blessed by many such martyrs right up to the present. This great "cloud of witnesses" (Heb 12:1) strengthens us to be faithful, no matter what the cost. 183 64.2 2005 JULIANA DEVOY Learning to Live Serenely: The Wisdom of Francis de Sales 184, Ewvery day in the Eucharistic liturgy we pray the ords "Protect us from all anxiety." The daily repetition of this invocation is not without meaning. We have only to open the newspaper or turn on the evening news to find plenty of material for angst. After 9/11 and its consequences, not only individuals but whole nations are experiencing increased anxiety. But it is not only the world scene that disturbs us. We witness divisions in the church, breakdowns of family life, loved ones' illnesses, financial reversals, and many other problems that threaten our peace of heart. Undue worry, anxiety, and agitation not only are detrimental to our psychological well-being, but also impede our spiritual growth. A spiritual guide who can teach us serenity and Christian optimism no matter what happens in the world is St. Francis de Sales (1567-1622), bishop and doctor of the church, a man with a wonderfully balanced and integrated personality, who combined a deep spirituality Juliana Devoy RGS last wrote for us in May-June 1999. Her address remains Good Shepherd Sisters; 30 Estrada da Vitoria; Macao. with a penetrating insight into human psychology. Separated from him by a cultural, theological, and linguistic gulf of four centuries, we nevertheless find in his published works and in his letters of spiritual direction gems of wisdom which, if we take the trouble to extract them, will both counsel and console us on our spiritual journey. In this essay we will examine several points of Salesian spirituality that can aid us in gracious living and tranquillity of spirit. Befriending Reality In his Introduction to the Devout Life, Francis says that, aside from sin, anxiety is the greatest evil that can happen to us. "It proceeds," he says, "from an inordinate desire to be freed from a present evil or to acquire a hoped-for good. Yet there is nothing that tends more to increase evil and prevent enjoyment of good than to be disturbed and anxious.''~ In one of his colorful images, he likens anxiety to birds caught in a net: the more they flap their wings trying to escape, the more they become entangled. Francis knew well what he was talking about. As a nineteen-year-old student in Paris, he had undergone a spiritual crisis over predestination, asking himself whether it was possible for him to be separated from God for all eternity. The moral and spiritual anguish that he suffered was so great that he fell ill and could not sleep or eat. The crisis was resolved only when he abandoned himself unconditionally to God's love, praying for the grace to love God here and now if he could not love God in eternity.2 Francis emerged from his persOnal "dark night" with two profound convictions about reality: his radical dependence on God and God's utter trustworthiness. In the Salesian worldview, creation is suffused with God's goodness and our peace is found in conformity to 64.2 2005 Devoy ¯ Learning to Live Serenely ~DO we live ,the truth, that every vocation is the lo~cus fo~" meeting God andeve~ Christian is called to a life of holiness,? -°186 God's will because God is a GodJbr us. Our particular life circumstances are where we will find God. Francis, therefore, counsels a loving acceptance of the situation in ¯ . which we find ourselves. His Introduction was written especially for lay people who desired to live in closer intimacy with God. Predating Vatican Council II by hundreds of years, he taught that every vocation is the locus for meeting God and that every Christian is called to a life of holiness. But the way to holiness would be different for everyone because the practice of devotion must "be adapted to the strength, activities, and duties of each particular person." A bishop is not called to live like a Carthusian, nor a skilled workman to spend his day in church like a religious. There is no need to emulate the lifestyle or the virtues proper to a vocation that is not one's own. His letters of direction illustrate this teaching in practice: I should like you to consider how many saints, both men and women, have lived in the married state like you, and that they all accepted this vocation readily and gladly. We must love all that God loves, and he loves our vocation; so let us love it too and not waste our energy hankering after a different sort of life, but get on with our own job. Know that God wishes nothing else of you save what he sends at the moment, and do not be on the lookout for other things . What is the use of building castles in Spain when you have to live in France? What a marvelous thing you said when you wrote to me: as long as I am serving God I don't care what kind of sauce he puts me in . Come now, you Review for Religious know very well into what sauce he has put you, into what state of life and condition; and, tell me, is it all the same to you?3 But it would be a mistake to imagine that what is being advocated is a passive acceptance of the status quo. In his Treatise on the Love of God, Francis devotes a large section to "The Will of God.''4 He distinguishes between God's signified will and the will of God's good pleasure. Although obviously God has only one will, our discernment of what God wants of us will have to take account of two different sets of realities. In the first case we are guided by the commandments, the counsels, teachings of the church, and holy inspirations. When there is question of something clearly ordained by God, there is nothing to discern; we have only to obey. For choosing a vocation, however, or choosing one action rather than another, Francis counsels a great liberty of spirit since it is impossible to know God's will absolutely. In important matters we should pray, consult a spiritual director, and then do what we think is best. Even if doubts arise afterwards about whether we chose well, we should remain in peace and continue on the course we have chosen. In lesser matters we should "do freely what seems good to us, so as not to weary our minds, waste our time, and put ourselves in danger of disquiet, scruples, and superstition." The "will of God's good pleasure" is God's will already done. It is the actual circumstances of our lives, the "sauce in which God has placed us," the events that take place and the things that exist outside our control. It is not that God causes everything that happens, but that "whatever is, is in some way within God's providence; it is not outside the loving embrace of the creative and redempt

Issue 58.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1999. ; for rel igious Ch6sfar~ He6tages arid Cer~ter~p~rary L~v~r~g MARCH.APRIL 1999 o VOLUME 58 ¯ NUMBER 2 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. 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 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondenbe 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; Xa, Tashington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1999 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 Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling ¯ Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL. 1999 ¯ VOLUME 58 ¯ ¯ NUMBER 2 contents 118 137 communal commitment: a symposium Luminous Traces: The Inbreaking Spirit amid Cultural Fragmentation Michael Downey offers a five-step tour of the culture horizon, pointing out the challenges and opportunities the U.S. culture presents to the communal commitment that lies at the core of most expressions of vowed religious life. Community Living." Beginning the Conversation Doris Gottemoeller RSM opens up a discussion on the meaning of community living in regard to its theological base, its spirituality, the role of leadership, and special challenges today. 150 paschal mystery The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection: Two Interior Witnesses Leon McKenzie proposes that the voice of the resurrection archetype and the voice of the Holy Spirit provide credibility for Jesus' resurrection. 158 168 From Woundedness to Union Cynthia Bourgeault presents an explanation of the psychology of Centering Prayer. On the Go with Chronic Illness, Sitting Still with Mark Pamela A. Smith SSCM reflects on her own life in the context of Mark's Gospel: What is the Christian mix of resignation and stubbornness, relaxation and fight, that makes it possible to slow down and still go barreling forward? Review for Religious 175 184 the vowed life Friendship and Celibacy: Seeing Beauty from a "Holy Distance" Brian J. PierceOP makes the point that we need new stories and new language to affirm and celebrate the vow of chastity and the goodness and beauty of human and sexual love. Poverty: Now You See It, Now You Don't Elissa Rinere CP surveys the various meanings and implications for living the vow of poverty professed by men and women religious. 195 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1998 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv, Eduardo C. Fernandez SJ, and Ver6nica M~ndez RCD present a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. departments 116 Prisms 211 Canonical Counsel: Visitation 217 Book Reviews March-April 1999 prisms How are we to observe a year dedicated to God the Father at a time when we desire to be more sensitive about sexist phrases and patriarchal soundings? The male imaging of God, both in our theology study and in our liturgical services, has come under criticism from many Christians, often stimulated by the groundbreaking work of feminist theologians--no matter that Jesus referred most often to God as Father (though he also tised other image words or examples, of course, including feminine ones). Mthough the Hebrew word Abba is used only once in the Greek Gospels--in Mark--and seldom in Paul's epistles, the significant intimacy of this word (and its relevance to Jesus' teaching the prayer "Our Father") has made it central to the Christian understanding of the relationship of ourselves to God-v-One upon whom we can call, by our being baptized into Jesus, with his love-word Abba. God, for us Christians, is above all personal. We talk to God as a persbn. In our everyday life we learn early on to call out to "Mom" and "Dad," but we do not find ourselves saying "O Parent." Parent, much as it blends masculine and feminine, is not used in personal address. So parent and other ways of avoiding the Jesus-chosen name "FathEr" do not tend to keep us true to our Christian faith. Nor is it helpful to use activity names in our sharing in the trinitarian life since all God's activities outside the :Trinity are the work of the one God. In addition, the activity titles of creator, redeemer, and sanctifier are not the warm personal words that elicit and express a love-response on our part. Review for Religious Father Walter Ong SJ, in his book Fighting for Life, makes a helpful observation about how appropriate the use of the Father word is for God. The father metaphor seems more apt for God even than a mother metaphor because of the very way that God relates to us, A mother in carrying a child in her womb for nine months knows well the meaning of "bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh." In ordinary circumstances, a mother knows and feels how much this child (baby) belongs to her. A father's experience is necessarily different. A father must lay claim to a child. Leaving aside our contemporary scientific DNA testing for paternity, a father has to step forward and begin the bonding process with a baby boy or girl whom he believes is, and accepts as, the one he "fathered." We Christians understand that God steps forward and, in and through Jesus the Christ, claims us as his children. We are "daughters and sons of God," albeit "adopted" because Jesus alone merits the title "the only-begotten Son." True, we are God's creation, but we are not of the "substance" (like "bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh") of God. We are claimed by God in Jesus; we are adopted. The gospel metaphor of Father, then, in a transcendent way Of choosing and claiming, has given us the relationship we rejoice in--daughters and sons who rightfully call upon God with Jesus' word Abba. God expends great energy all our life long to convince us that we are beloved ones. Perhaps we glimpse the importance of God's choosing us as beloved in Christ when we consider the criteria of the apostle. When the Eleven were considering how to fill the place of Judas after the resurrection and ascension of Jesus, they used the criterion of having been present from the time of Jesus' baptism by John at the Jordan. For all of us followers of Jesus, he shares with us in our baptism what had been the consolation of his own in the Jordan event. We are taken into ¯ the circle of God's inner .life of trinitarian love. A year dedicated to God the Father help~ us appreciate more fully the graced relati6nship which we Christians, through Jesus Christ and our Scriptures and tradition, have been given the privilege of understanding--along with the ha.ppy responsibility of making our response. In balancing our images of God after the manner of Jesus, we Christians hold fast to the fact that our most basic response is our praying to God as "Our Father." David L. Fleming SJ March-April 1999 MICHAEL DOWNEY Luminous Traces: The Inbreaking Spirit amid Cultural Fragmentation "Peggy O'Donnell is dying." My mother was shocked when I, a first grader at Most Blessed Sacrament School, relayed the news. Peggy was a high school senior at West Catholic. She lived down the block from us in our Irish Catholic village in southwest Philadelphia. "What?" my mother asked incredulously. "Peggy O'Donnell looks just fine to me. There's nothing wrong with her." Over the course of the next few hours, my mother found out the real story via the neighborhood grapevine. "Peggy O'Donnell is leaving the world," Mother told me, "but she's not dying." But what was I to think when Nancy O'Donnell said of her sister, "Peggy's leaving the world"? Peggy did leave the world of that Irish Catholic village in southwest Philadelphia. She went to Rosemont, way out in the s~burbs, to the Convent of the Society of the Holy Child Jesus, a different world indeed from what was known to us in the city. But, however different the Michael Downey is professor of systematic theology and spir-ituality at Saint John's Seminary in Camarillo, California, and is theologian to Roger Cardinal Mahony. He edited the award-winning New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality; his most recent publication is Textual Mysticism: Reading as a Basic Spiritual Discipline. This article is adapted from the presentation given at a symposium at VCernersville, Pennsylvania, in October 1998. He may be addressed at the Archdiocesan Catholic Center Office; 3424 Wilshire Boulevard; Los Angeles, California 90010. Review for Religious world of Peggy O'Donnell and the others out in Rosemont might be from ours, and whatever these words about "leaving the world" might have meant, deep down inside I knew that Peggy O'Donnell was still going to be in the world, part of the world. She was not dying. My mother told me so! I open with this cameo of Peggy O'Donnell because it evokes images of leaving one world and embracing another, shedding the skin of one culture so as to embrace the meanings, purposes, and values of another. But "leaving the world," moving from one world into another, shifting from the culture of an Irish Catholic village within a city to that of a convent in the suburbs of Philadelphia in 1958, was a very different sort of challenge from what religious face today amid the culture, the world, in which they live. I have been invited by the coordinators of this syrr~.posium on religious life to offer a tour of the cultural horizon, pointing out the challenges and opportunities our culture presents to the communal commitment that lies at the core of most expressions of the vowed religious life. I shall proceed in five steps. First, I shall address the question What is culture? (Culture, like experience or community, is a term much used in religious discourse today, but often it lacks precision.) Second, I shall identify certain shifts that have taken place in our culture, making the world a very different place from the world in which many religious were formed as children, as adolescents, and as novices. Third, I shall describe features of this culture that pose serious challenges to commitment of any kind, specifically commitment to a particular community of persons. Fourth, I shall suggest that cultural shifts, often seen negatively, can be good news precisely because they make room for something else to come into being, providing occasion for the inbreaking Spirit in the gift of hope. I shall spell out the conditions or attitudes necessary for receiving this gift of hope in our very dark age. And, fifth, I shall suggest a reconfiguration of hope for religious life and communal commitment in terms of a shift from community to communion. Culture Culture and the world are roughly approximate terms. The story of Peggy O'Donnell is intended to be a gende reminder that, in the not so distant past, religious life was another world, an alternative culture. When Nancy O'Donnell said of her sister Peggy that she March-April 1999 Downey * Luminous Traces, was leaving the world, what she meant was that she was leaving one culture for another. The word culture refers to the various forms by which meanings, purposes, and values are expressed and impressed. Culture is a language. Language here is much more than verbal communication; it is expressivity, and human beings express themselves in manifold ways. Human beings are of necessity always expressing themselves, "speechifying"--and, when they do, they do so in culture. Culture is the whole constellation of means by which human beings expres~ what is deepest and most important to them, for example, about family and progeny, social arrangements and sexual taboos, and how to deal with illness and aging. They do this through art, literature, and ritual. Culture includes the ethos of a people, the central story or vision that gives direction to their lives, the principles and governing concerns by which they gain a sense of order and cohesion in their lives. Culture encompasses economic systems, political structures, and the laws that give shape to a sense of right and wrong. Also included are the many ways in which human beings strive to express their perceptions of beauty in music, dance, architecture, and the fine arts. Because human beings perceive and pursue the gift and task ofself-expression in different ways, cultures differ, sometimes so much so that they appear irreconcilable. In other words, human beings create or participate in creating worlds of meaning, value, and purpose by means of culture. Wherever there are human beings, there is culture. Culture is second nature to humans. Culture is what human beings do with the "stuff" of the created order, the natural world, what might be referred to here as first natui'e. Human beings a{e always taking this givenness of the natural world, this first nature, and doing something with it. The created world in which we live is the "stuff" that is taken and shaped, created. We extend and transform this givenness in accord with particularly human meanings, purposes, and values. An apple is part of nature, but making apple pie is part of culture. While daffodils belong to nature, arranging a bouquet of them is part of culture. Precious metals are mined from nature, but exchanging and wearing rings is a cultural phenomenon, expressing love and fidelity and a whole range of related meanings. Solid marble is quarried from nature's Side. When slabs of it are carefully Review for Religious designed and skillfully chiseled, the result may be a contribution to culture. There are alphabets and dictionaries, but a poem or novel is something else again. There are musical notes, but the ordering and arranging of them in a distinctive musical composition is of a completely different order. It belongs to the order of culture, second nature to human beings. Any cultural form is expressive of multiple meanings, not just one. Flowers may be arranged in a bouquet and set in a place of worship as an expression of reverence and offering. They may be sent from a lover to the beloved as an expression of affection. Flowers are sent to people who are ill in the hope of cheering and strengthening their spirits. And they may be given in times of sorrow and loss as an expression of sympathy. All these are uses of the created order, of first nature, by human beings whose nature is to talk, to "speechify." So semantically laden is the cultural phenomenon of apple pie that, for many people in the United States, to be told that someone is "as American as motherhood and apple pie" precludes need of further description of the person's character and identity. But culture is about much more than nosegays, apple pies, wedding rings, and skillfully crafted marble edifices. As second nature to human beings, culture includes everything involved in the task of being and becoming fully human. Culture, then, refers to the whole sociosymbolic order in which humans live and by which they receive and shape meaning and identity. Here it must he recognized that the extension and transformation of nature for human purposes has a checkered history. Not every cultural expression advances truly human purposes. Not all humanpurposes are worthy as such, that is, simply because they are human. And not every value that human beings perceive as such is in fact so. From a Christian perspective, it is prayerful attention to the Spirit of God present in the world and moving human hearts toward God that opens up, orients, and often reorients culture to authentic human meanings, ptirposes, and values. An observation on "American culture" before proceeding. There is no longer one unified and unifying American culture, if ever there was one. In the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, Mass is Human beings create or participate in creating worlds of meaning, value, and purpose by means of culture. March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces celebrated every Sunday in over forty languages and dialects. At Hollywood High School, students speak more than eighty languages and dialects. Whatever may be the sense of "American" character and identity communicated in the rhetoric of "motherhood and apple pie," does this image speak any longer to such a range of people? When, in such contexts, inherited cultural forms begin to fragment, it should come as no surprise. It is no less surprising when traditional forms of the vowed religious life become semantically empty. They no longer "speechify" the meanings, purposes, and values that are perceived and pursued as central to the vowed religious life. Culture: Coming Apart at the Seams Using an image from life in southern California, we may liken our culture to a house situated on a fault line.There is a fissure running down the center of the treasury holding what is dearest to us. The culture in which we were formed seems to be coming apart at the seams. There is seepage and spillage everywhere. Bad news. But the good news is that inherited, deeply cherished cultural forms may be giving way so that something else may come into being. To speak of culture entails talking about 'its prevailing wo~'ldview. What was the worldview in which most United States religious were formed? What was the dominant view of human life and history? What was the view of the relation between God and the world that, I suggest, is now giving way to new ways of perceiving and being? ~ First is the boundless confidence in the capacity of the human mind to know everything by means of the so-called scientific method, an affirmation of the power of reason (very narrowly understood) to think its way through just about anything. Such a lofty understanding of the powers of reason began to wane once appropriate attention was given to the facts of history, to the enormity of human suffering, which baffles and disorients even the most serene exercise of reason.2 Second, in such a worldview, there is the conviction that individuals can make and shape themselves. Together with this, there is an unprecedented affirmation of individual rights and liberties. This affirmation of individual rights and liberties enshrined in the U.S. Constitution can often eclipse the pursuit of a common good. Review for Religious Third, with roots long, deep, and strong in Christian history, a marked dualism characterizes this worldview. In such a perspective, ¯ all reality in every sphere of life is divided into two parts, with the implication that one is superior to, and dominant over, the other: mind over matter, objective over subjective, intellect over affect, the analytical over the intuitive, prose over poetry, God over humanity, humanity over nature, male over female, white over black, yellow, red, and brown, clergy over lay, American and Western European over the Third World, rich over poor, speech over silence, the strong and powerful over the wounded and the weak. The fourth feature of the worldview which shaped many of us is perhaps the most problematic of all. History is viewed as inevitably progressive. Change is always improvement, and whatever is new is better. Progress is regarded as inevitable and therefore beyond moral adjudication. Whatever can be done must be done and therefore should be done. The horrors of history, the sufferings of individuals and of whole peoples, no matter how large and how utterly incomprehensible, are seen as unseemly wrinkles in the unfolding of an inevitably better future. The sentiment lingers. It is not at all uncommon to hear from undergraduate students something like: "God must have had a plan for eliminating six million Jews. He permitted it to happen to the Jews in order to teach them a lesson for their own benefit and the benefit of humanity. We just have to accept it." Here, no matter what happens, God is in charge, controlling the universe like an absolute monarch. Today we stand at a juncture. In starker terms, we are trying desperately to straddle a fault line. The inherited worldview and cultural contours briefly described above are crumbling. Our framework is in fragments, but much of it is still in our marrow. We are reluctant to relinquish this way of perceiving and being in the world. We are slow to give up. Even though we recognize that it no longer rings true, we nonetheless cling to it tenaciously because we are not yet altogether clear about what is still coming to be. From the perspective of the student of Christian spirituality, the worldview that so shaped us has failed to satisfy the deepest longings of the human heart. The worldview that so shaped us has failed to satisfy the deepest longings of the human heart. March-April 1999 A Downey * Luminous Traces The construal of the human being as a self-made self and the unprecedented affirmation of the superiority of reason and of individual rights and liberties are not easily reconcilable with present modes of perceiving and being in the world. In contemporary Christian spirituality, there is a deeper realization that the human person is not to be defined principally as a rational animal with separate faculties of intellect and will, a composite of body and soul often at odds with one another.-Rather the person is a whole, a being defined by heart, affectus, affectivity--the capacity to be touched and drawn into relationship and interpersonal communion with another, others, and God. More importantly, people today live with an uneasy sense that there is no longer a big picture. For many people, deeply religious people no less, the world does not hang together, the center does not hold, in the way it was once thought. This puts a bold question mark before our understanding of God and the nature of God's relation to the world. God the all-powerful monarch, manipulating and controlling the universe, is simply beyond belief. It is precisely this understanding of God that cannot be sustained, and with it the worldview that rests upon it. Further, efforts to reach even the slightest measure 0fagreement on the nonnegotiable elements of a coherent worldview seem futile. Consequently, no commonly held values provide a sense of shared purpose. As but one example, over the course of fifteen years of undergraduate teaching, I would ask students year by year: "What do you value most of all? Is there anything that you would be willing to give your life for, perhaps even to die for?" Invariably there was reticence, indeed reluctance~ in the face of my question. But eventually there seemed to be some measure of agreement that "family" is what is to be valued above all else. But, when pressed to speak about the nature o~ "family," all thirty-five or more students would have different understandings of what "family" means and why this slippery term designates or suggests a value at all. It has become increasingly difficult to arrive at a common-sense understanding of "family" or of what "family values" might be. In addition to the loss of a big picture, there is a growing conviction that the future is not inevitably progressive. Today there is clearer recognition that change is not always for the better and that the future is not necessarily brighter. That is to say that history is riddled with interruption, disorientation, and a sense of randomness, indeed chance? Not everything that happens should Review for Religious be assigned to God's providence. As a variation on the theme of a rather tasteless bumper sticker: Things just happen! But the interruptive character of history, thought on first reading to be irreconcilably at odds with God's providential plan, is not of necessity so and may in fact be more in keeping with biblical understandings of God's action in history, specifically in the person of the Christ, than the view of God's providence characteristic of the inherited worldview now passing away.4 Much of what has contributed to our fundamental sense of meaning, purpose, and value is now a shambles, no matter how much we care to think otherwise: family, neighborhood, political and economic institutions, and religious life as we have known it. Efforts at retrenchment and restoration may meet with ostensibly satisfactory results in the short term, but, no matter how big the shoulders trying to hold up these and other elements of a culture-in- collapse, another course is required, not simply desirable. Rather than trying to hold up what can no longer stand on its own, what is called for is a clearing of the house, making room, so that something new can come into being. What is coming to be may find no clear precedent in human or Christian history. And it is precisely because it finds no clear precedent in Christian history that it may come into being by the presence and power of the Spirit of God, the Spirit of Christ. As these outer worlds of meaning and purpose and value splinter, fragment, and shatter, there is a strong tendency to turn inward for stmething reliable. Many currents in spirituality today are characterized by self-absorption, self-preoccupation, and self-fixation. Spirituality is thought to be about interiority, often to the exclusion of the wider spheres of life. The movement inward appears to go faster and faster, if not deeper and deeper, as outer worlds of meaning continue to collapse with increasing rapidity. All of this seems like very bad news, but it need not be. The hallmark of our age is the self-emptying of forms because inherited cultural forms cannot hold God. And, as they are emptied and found wanting, perhaps there will once again be room enough for the God of constant coming, whose gift always and everywhere overspills all our efforts to lock it in, pin it down in tightly knit thought forms, theological systems, and patterns of religious living. There is, then, a reason for the hope that lies within us (see 1 P 3:15): the Christ who is always and everywhere drawing us forward cannot be chained by cultural forms and worldviews, which, March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces however adequate they may be in the service of the truth, are always necessarily limited, partial. They cannot contain God. They are unable to hold the fullness of God. Recall that culture is language and is second nature to us. But no matter how deeply we are indebted to our inherited cultural forms, to the language which is second nature to us, God's giving overspills any and all mediation. Today there is a deepening sense that God is incomprehensible mystery, beneath and beyond all our efforts to dissect, scrutinize, and systematize. From the perspective of a student of Christian spiritual and mystical traditions, even as we are stalled at a cultural crossroads, we are being invited to enter more deeply into the apophatic way, to be educated in the Spirit's school of unknowing, to proceed on the path toward a dazzling darkness at the heart of which is the One whose name above all names is not God.5 For even the name God is no proper name for the One whose name beyond and beneath all naming is Love. And Life. And Light. Even and especially in the darkness. The Rhetoric of Culture: Choice over Commitment Though something new is coming to be, we are still dogged by elements of that earlier worldview that pose serious obstacles to growth and development in the spiritual life in general and the vowed religious life in pa(ticular. These may be thought of as deep wounds inflicted by our culture, whatever one may care to say about its merits. More specifically, they constitute sometimes seemingly insurmountable hurdles to comm. itment of any sort. In the not too distant past, it was common enough to give a good bit of attention to the so-called "enemies of the spiritual life." In approaches to religious formation, "particular friendships" were often viewed in such terms. Today there are indeed enemies of the spiritual life, but they are quite different from those identified in earlier approaches to formation. They must be tackled by a different strategy. As I see it, the three major obstacles that must be hurdled in any approach to commitment, specifically a lifelong commitment to a community of persons, are narcissism, pragmatism, and unrelenting resdessness.6 The first is related to the disproportionate emphasis in the culture on individual rights and liberties. We are inclined to think of ourselves first and finally as individuals who choose; or elect, to be in relationship. The self is thought to be the first and final Review for Religious arbiter, not only of meaning, purpose, and yalue, but also of all reality. Individual fights and liberties and the ability of individuals to make and shape themselves by choosing from among a multiplicity of options is, in the minds of many, of preeminent value. When traveling in different parts of the world, I often ask what impression others have of the culture or cultures in the United States. Invariably the response is something akin to: "You are very practical people. You are achievers. You get things done. You are doers." Indeed we are a practical people, pragmatists. In the mind of the pragmatist, the truth is what works. And, if it works, it must be true. We have become the people of the bottom line. We are governed by a preoccupation with outcomes, assessments, and five-year plans. We all too readily think of ourselves and others in instrumentalist, pragmatic terms. Created goods, even human lives, have become commodities. Everything is considered in terms of what gets achieved, done, accomplished, produced to satisfy the needs of some consumer. It may be useful here to recall: "If you are what you do, when you don't, then you're not." A cameo may convey my meaning here. On a visit to Santa Barbara on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, I strolled from the beach to the caf~ for a cup of one of those designer coffees. Seated near me were two young women, perhaps seniors in high school or entry-level undergrads. They were hunched over huge textbooks with graphs and charts of some sort, reminiscent of those in my sophomore-year geometry book. Basking in the splendor of Santa Barbara's light while sipping away at their Starbucks, the two were studying very hard--judging from their knitted brows. In due course one looked up and said to the other in a tone at once exasperated and apodictic: "Look, if it's not common sense, it's wrong!" Hers is the voice of an age impatient with the speculative, unwilling to stay with an idea for a long time, unable to engage in the discipline of thinking something through, lacking the endurance to follow an argument to its logical conclusion. Unless it cashes out, has empirically verifiable results, some clear practical merit, why be bothered? Speculation, as in the commonplace "ivory-tower speculation," has become a nasty word. We are a people who are unrelentingly resdess. We are. hungry for experience. We live in a culture in which we are urged to keep on going, exploring options, choosing from among a myriad of possibilities. Another cameo: For me as a child in that Irish Catholic March-April 1999 Downe~ ¯ Luminous Traces village within the city of Philadelphia, the trick was to convince Mother and Dad to allow us one half hour in front of the television, after we had been out to play and after we had done our homework. If permitted to watch an evening TV program, my sister and I would sit glued to the television set for thirty minutes without budging. Now when Mikey, my twelve-year-old nephew, walks in the door of my home, I remind him, "No surfing in my house!" It is not the surfboard I have in mind, of course, but the TV remote control. Mikey has learned that in my home he is welcome to watch a TV program, for much longer indeed than half an hotir, but for him this takes real discipline. It is altogether different from channel surfing-~staying with this station for two minutes and that one for three minutes and the next one until it is time for ~he commercial. Mikey's TV wanderlust is not uncommon, and it is symptomatic of a much deeper wandering, squandering perhaps, of the human spirit. Unrelenting restlessness is manifest in many expressions of spirituality today. We tend to move from one thing to the next, from one approach to spirituality to another, first taking some tips from the Ignatian school, then making a retreat at a Benedictine monastery, perhaps a little lec~io divina. The "spiritual quest" can become little more than a cruise down the spirituality superhighway, gobbling up soundbite supplies of spiritual wisdom that "work for me." If it does not work for me, then I move on. Narcissism, pragmatism, restlessness! These are the enemies of the spiritual life today. They are cultural wounds, and you and I carry them with us in making, cultivating, and sustaining our religious commitments. They are in our bloodstream. We think of the individual as first and final in a way that blinds us to the relational matrix of all life.7 We are numb to the simple truth that absolutely everything is related to everything else. We are pragmatists to the core. ~Fhe fact that monks continue to rise at three in the morning to pray to God in the dark long before the dawn is virtually incomprehensible, in our culture. What good does that do? What difference does it make? What are the outcomes, the results, of praying in the dark? Why pray at all? Why live in a monastery? At least go out and do something with yourself in the real world! Make a contribution to society! Make a difference! Do something! Anything! And we are restless, indeed driven. In a culture in which the rhetoric of choice has rendered mute the language of commitment, Review for Religious many of us find it hard to stay at anything for very long. Our age is characterized by impermanence and provisionality. We find it difficult to stay with anything, and be really alive and passionate about anything, day after day, week by week, year by year. Diversion is what is constant. We move on when there seem to be no immediate results. We resist going back to the book every single day, listening long and lovingly to that Word beneath and beyond all the words, staying with it long enough to hear the beating of the heart of God beneath and beyond the cacophony and clutter of our own making, staying still long enough to find ourselves in God and there to rest--even and especially when such staying does not "work for me" or "do" any good whatsoever. The Inbreaking Spirit As cultural forms collapse around us, the appropriate response lies not in trying to hold on to them or hold them up by sheer force of will or by fuzzy references to the will of God. Nor does it lie in accommodation to the individualism, pragmatism, and unbridled restlessness characteristic of our age. It may lie in the cultivation of forms of life more in keeping with the person of Christ, the presence and power of the Spirit, and the apocalyptic sting of the gospel. Just as Peggy O'Donnell left the world in 1958 and embraced an alternative culture, the new world of Rosemont, so too the future of religious life lies in patterns of living that stand in marked contrast to a culture-in-collapse now increasingly recognized to have been a bad bill of goods. Neither is ready retrenchment or hasty rebuilding an appropriate response amid cultural fragmentation. Rather, the more effective strategy would be to create space, provide room, for the coming of something that is not of our own making. This calls for deep reserves of hope. It is precisely at the moment when our own efforts fail, when we are unable to .make and sustain our commitment, that the Spirit comes in the gift of hope--breaking in on our willful efforts to hold together and hold up what is broken, even and especially our deepest selves. In our times, isn't hope the most important virtue? And the most necessary? And the rarest? We live in a disruptive and disorienting age. On every street, behind every other door, lives someone who is deeply disheartened if not actually despairing. This may be brought on by people's awareness of massive and March-Aprll 1999 --129 Downe~ ¯ Luminous Traces meaningless death and the randomness of violence, by the onset of early illness, by the loss of a loved one or a job or a sense of meaning and value--or the loss of cherished ways of perceiving and being in the world. Our inability to relinquish deeply ingrained patterns of narcissism, pragmatism, and restlessness signals a crisis of hope and beckons us to deeper levels of willingness to be open to this gift. What exactly is the hope that breaks in, amid the shambles, as the gift of the Spirit? As I see it, there is nothing more important to the human being than hope. People can live without faith, and many do. In our own day, certainly, many people live without explicitly religious faith, and evidence of loveless lives abounds. But people simply do not live without hope. They cannot. Hope is "the very center of a human being.''8 Though we need hope more than anything else in life, little has been written about it.9 Compared with faith and love, hope has been given little attention in the traditions of Christian theology and spirituality. Hope may be likened to the proverbial middle child, the neglected one among the theological virtues, sandwiched in between faith, which makes the first move, and love, which is preeminent in most readings of Christian Scripture, tradition, and theology. Hope is the drawing force of all human initiative. It looks to the coming of the new, the never before, the undreamt of. Hope is a pregnant, many-layered .concept. We can distinguish in it shades of meaning that the French language, for example, conveys with different terms--espoir and esperance. We can make the distinction between hope for success (espoir) and something deeper: the anticipation of a desired good, a desire-filled wanting, in a word, esperance. In a more metaphysical and religious sense, hope, esperance, is a movement of the person by which we relativize the present and all its prospects of success so as to be open to something that we realize can come only as gift. The more unpropitious the context in which we demonstrate hope, the deeper the hope is. Hope is precisely what we have when we do not have something. Hope is not the same thing as optimism that things will go our way, or turn out well. It is rather the certainty that something makes sense, is worth the cost, regardless of how it might turn out. Hope is a sense of the possible. It strains ahead, seeking a way behind and.beyond every dead end. Hope moves in three steps. First, what I hope for I do not yet Review for Religious have or see. Hope's object is future. Second, what I hope for may be difficult. But, third, I just might have it! There are no guarantees, but it just might be possible. In short, hope is directed to a future good that is hard but not impossible to attain. Its attainment, though, is in the mode of reception. Hope is the retrieval of possibilities that can only come as gift letting something come into life that is not self-generated. But with the gift comes judgment. The counterpart of hope is the admission of failure; the condition for the possibility of the Spirit's inbreaking in the gift of hope. Indeed hope of the deepest kind, esperance, calls for humility, a willingness to be judged by the gospel, to submit to its apocalyptic sting. Historical events interrupt our sense of order and cohesion. Our educational institutions have lost sight of the purposes for which they were founded. In light of the Lordship of Christ, it becomes clearer that our cultural forms, our sense of the fixedness of meaning, our grand schemes for improvement, have failed. Though hope for the future cannot come unless there is a willingness to admit failure and be judged by the light of Christ's gospel, there is in us a tenacious resistance to accepting the fact that we have failed. Without humility, poverty of spirit, and filial fear of the Lord, we remain unable to face the simple fact that our lives as persons and as a people are deeply fragmented. But the willingness to admit that the way we have done it until now is no way into the future liberates us to attend to other possibilities. It allows us to be open to voices and visions that were never heard or seen in earlier ways of perceiving and being. Admitting failure in light of the Lordship of Christ and by the presence, and power of the Spirit renders us free to receive the many gifts that, even and especially amid the ruins, are still on offer. When we relinquish the big-shoulders strategy of holding up what is falling down, we can attend to the shimmering shards amid the crumbling of our worldview and our culture, even and especially our religious culture. It is not at all uncommon to find that what we have put our energies into, indeed what we have staked our life on, proves unreliable, and that what we have affirmed in faith is no longer believable. What, then, is the reason for the hope? Can we continue to hope in such circumstances? It is precisely when faith crumbles There is nothing more important to the human being than hope. March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces and love grows dim that hope really begins.'° It is in the wonder and weakness of one's faith that we find the real meaning of hope. For hope is the willingness to not give up precisely when one draws no consolation from faith. Hope does not t~ to determine how God's ways will be shown. It remains open for all new and astonishing manifestations of the divine presence. It is in our most vulnerable state that God's gift of the Spirit, in hope, comes. Hope !s indeed God's gift to the vulnerable. It is only when we are exhausted, speechless, impotent--that is, only in our radical brokenness and vulnerability, by which we participate in the kenosis of God--that God can find room enough to enter and sustain us. The hopelessness and emptiness of the darkness of our age is precisely the condition that makes hope possible. And it is in the self-emptying of inherited forms of religious life and communal commitment that we can find room for what is yet to come. Amid the ruins, our consolation and our hope are found in the One who has left behind a trace of his presence even amid the crumbling?' However much we may wish it otherwise, sometimes it is no more than a trace of God's nearness that we have. For those who are rocked and shaken to their core, shattered by the inbreaking Spirit who is the very gift of hope, shimmering traces may have to suffice, enabling us to take the next step, and the next, toward what is yet coming to be--as the gift of God's giving. From Community to Communion It is clear that inherited expressions of the vowed religious life cannot escape the self-emptying of forms that is the hallmark of our age. This gives cause for lament, and for hope. The future of religious life is ineluctably tied to the willingness of vowed members to lament what has been, what is now passing, and-- rather than trying to rebuild from what little remains of the past-- to create spaces where something of God's constant coming as gift can be recognized, named, and celebrated in memory and in hope. Forms of religious life as we have known it are giving way to something new, new forms of religious life, perhaps, but without clear precedent in Christian history. In the midst of the crumbling of forms in which community and communal commitment played a large role, lamentation can give rise to hope. As community identity " seems on the brink of collapse and communal commitments seem stretched to the breaking point, there may be gained a glimpse of Review for Religious the deeper mystery of interpersonal communion. Is it at all possible that what is presently operative in religious communities is a self-emptying of forms so that vowed members may participate more fully in the mystery of communion? The fundamental Christian mystery is that God is a communion of persons in loving relationship: Father, Son, and Spirit toward us, for us, with us, in us. The very being of God is to be in relation, to be toward us, for us, with us, in us. To be created in the image of God is to be created for relationship, for communion, for establishing, cultivating, sustaining relationships based on reciprocity, mutuality, and equality rooted in the mystery of the divine perichoresis~ To say that the whole world is created in God's image is to say that the whole of creation, every inch and ounce of it, is created for relationship. Growing in the divine likeness, reaching our true destiny as persons, is realized as we participate ever more fully in the mystery of this holy communion. And this we do as we seek to establish and sustain right relationship with self, another, others, God, and with every living creature22 Various expressions of religious life in community have sought to embody this mystery of communion. Community life and communal commitment give form to, or bring to speech, the mystery of trinitarian communion. Re!igious communities and communal commitment have been expressive of, embodiments of, a language of communion. But there is no strict equation between community and communion. The relational matrix at the heart of all the living will not pass away. It alone is the ground on which we stand, and which will withstand the splintering and shattering of the forms that have sought to speak its mystery. Butit may now be time to "speechify" this mystery of communion through the articulation of new cultures of communion that express more adequately the emergent understandings of God, human life, history, the world, and the church. It is quite possible tha~ the good word amid all this hard news is that vowed members of religious institutes have occasion to lean into, fall into, the mystery of communion--the very mystery of God whose very being is to be in relationship. This holy communion of persons divine and human is beneath and beyond all the forms. It is Hope is allowing something to come into life that is not self-generated. March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces the gift given by the Word whose name is Love beneath and beyond all other words. Amid the rubble the Spirit of God in hope comes, perhaps offering an alternative possibility to the worldview which shaped us to the core, offering in its place the possibility of creating a culture of communion as a gentle corrective in the face of the narcissism, pragmatism, and restlessness of our age. At this stage it is all too easy to offer forecasts about the forms religious life will take, in view of such factors as greater collaboration with lay associates and the need for a sharper ecclesial identity and a stronger sense of corporate mission according to the charism of an institute's founders. It would be easy to provide practical directives for the reconfiguration of community as participation in the mystery of communion. But doing so might be one more instance of clinging to the culture that is passing, of holding on to a worldview that would offer a consoling sense of certainty regarding an inevitably brighter future--replete with false promises and unreliable guarantees. Forecasts, clear pictures, and precise directions are at odds with the logic of the trace. What is yet to be will be shown as we make our way into the fullness of the trinitarian communion by following the traces, the luminous traces Christ has left in the gospel. Further, to see in Christ the trace of the trinitarian communion in which we live even now. Whatever new forms of religious life and communal commitment are coming to be will be cultivated and sustained only by prayerful participation in this holy communion wherein we may be given the courage to live with just a trace. Then follow it. In the shattering of ~hat we hold most dear, it is possible to see with new eyes, as if for the first time. Everywhere there are luminous traces of the mystery of communion, hidden from those who keep squinting.and straining for a neat and tidy worldview, or from those who want to build a religious culture of the rubble of the past. As religious communities continue to stretch their numbers and splinter yet further, astonishing acts of faith and love and hope continually spring forth between the cracks. Vowed religious go on, convinced that they will find a way forward. And, if there is no clear path ahead, they will make a way by responding to the gift of God's constant coming; they will follow the traces deeper and deeper into the mystery of communion between and among persons both human and divine. The traces shimmer, sometimes so brilliantly as to blind the clear-sighted: a dazzling darkness! At this juncture in the history of religious life, vowed members in Review for Religious communities of commitment are learning from the inside out the wisdom at the heart of the Christian mystic's experience of Light: If you want to be sure of the path you are on, then close your eyes and walk in the dark. It is hope, and hope alone, that takes the next step. And the next. Notes l Though I am describing the shift from "modernity" to "post[-I modernity," I am avoiding use of that terminology here. Helpful descrip-tions of the emergent post[-]modern consciousness include: Stanley J. Grenz, A Primer on Postmodernism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996); Richard Kearney, The Wake of Imagination: Toward a Post-Modern Culture (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1988); Paul Lakeland, Postmodernity: Christian Identity in a Fragvnented Age (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1997); David Tracy, Plurality and Ambiguity: He~vneneutics, Religion, Hope (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1987). 2 For a good example of the turn to historical fact in Christian the-ology, see Johann Baptist Metz, Faith in History and Society: Toward a Practical Fundamental Theology (New York: Seabury, 1980). See also Johann Baptist Metz and JOrgen Moltmann, Faith and Future: Essays on Theology, Solidarity, and Modernity (Concilium; Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995). 3 See, for example, Elizabeth Johnson, "Does God Play Dice? Divine Providence and Chance," Theological Studies 57, no. 1 (March 1996): 3- 18. 4 For a treatment of the interruptive character of history, see The Holocaust as Interruption (Concilium), ed. Elisabeth Schiissler Fiorenza and David Tracy (Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1984). 5 For a treatment of some of the issues involved in naming the God who cannot be named, see Jean-Luc Marion, God without Being, trans. Thomas A. Carlson (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995). 6 See Ronald Rolheiser, The Shattered Lantern: Rediscovering the Felt Presence of God (New York: Crossroad, 1995). 7 While others have emphasized the relational character of God and its implications for human and Christian life, I am particularly indebted to the contribution of Catherine Mowry LaCugna, God for Us: The Trinity and Christian Life (San Francisco: Harper, 1991). 8 William E Lynch, Images of Hope: Imagination as Healer of the Hopeless (Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1965), p.9. 9 Lynch, p. 21. 10 For a fuller treatment of my understanding of the dynamics of hope, see Michael Downey, Hope Begins V~here Hope Begins (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1998). ~ Post[-]modernist Jacques Derrida uses .the image of the trace to March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces avoid speaking of presence. The image is also used extensively by Emmanuel Levinas and Paul Ricoeur. In Ricoeur the term is associated with the distanciation of the text. What is found in the narrative of an event but the trace of the event? There is no immediate access through any kind of historical reconstruction or through the forging of univocal meaning. It is intriguing that Th4r~se of Lisieux drew on the image of the trace in speaking of her faith and confidence even in the depth and dark-ness of her trial as she neared death. The title of this presentation derives from TMr~se. She writes: "Since Jesus has reascended to heaven, I can follow him only in the traces he has left; but how luminous these traces are! How perfumed! I have only to cast a glance in the Gospels . " See her Story of a Soul, trans. John Clarke (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1976), p. 258. ,2 For a treatment of the implications of a thoroughly relational understanding of God for the Christian spiritual life, see Catherine Mowry LaCugna and Michael Downey, "Trinitarian Spirituality," in The New Dictionmy of Catholic Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), pp. 968-982. Easter (at a retreat house surrounded by cemeteries) Our propensity (as part of nature) is to f!ll up emptiness. Graves hunger for bodies and for earth and, in time, more earth as,flesh diminishes to nothing. But emptiness is essential for God. The hollow of a nest is just right for hatching and only when egg and tomb lie empty does life emerge. Eugene Cartier Review for Religious DORIS GOTTEMOELLER Community Living: Beginning the Conversation Fmor several years I have had the growing perception that com-unity living may be the Achilles' heel of contemporary apos-tolic religious life. ("Achilles' heel" means a point of special vulnerability. Referring to the ancient myth, the dictionary defines it as "a small but mortal weakness.") Before I proceed, let me make two clarifications abdut this perception of mine. First, I see a prob-lem not with community in the abstract (an ideal which we all affirm), but with community living, an experience that is tangible and daily. Secdnd, I sense that our vulnerability consists in our inability to see what this commitment, this ideal, really requires of us. Often the mere mention of the topic brings about an awkward silence, embarrassed dismissals, or defensive equivocations. We have all heard, and perhaps even voiced, statements like these: "Community doesn't mean living under the same roof" . "My ministry is so demanding that I need time and space apart just to keep going" . "I don't want to participate in a basically dysfunctional lifestyle". "My parish [or my ministry team] is my community" . "There are no opportuni6es for community living in my locale" . and, from someone relocating her ministry, "I refuse to go from community to community and ask if they are willing to have me." Doris Gottemoeller RSlVl wrote "Religious Life: V~rhere Does It Fit in Today's Church?" in our March-April 1998 issue. The present article was her contribution to the sy~nposium at the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in ~,rernersville, Pennsylvania, in October 1998. Her address remains Sisters of Mercy of the A~nericas; 8300 Colesville Road #300; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910. March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Community Living I believe that our inability or unwillingness to answer the questions of what community living means today and what our common obligation or commitment is weakens our credibility internally and externally. We ourselves have failed to get a clear vision of community that we can agree on and live together in, and outsiders take note of a number of confusing appearances. When we are ambiguous about this significant dimension of consecrated life, can we invite potential new members to explore this life? A number of factors and circumstances have brought us to this point of confusion and uncertainty. The adaptation and renewal mandated by Vatican Council II led us to discard many styles and expressions of community that are no longer relevant to contemporary culture and ministry. Economic factors such as the loss of parish convents, the conversion of former motherhouses to other uses, and the withdrawal from many sponsored ministries (hospitals, colleges, high schools) meant that sisters have had to seek other places to live. These are usually rented (and therefore impermanent), not associated with a ministry site, and able to accommodate only a small number--one, two, or three sisters. In these transitions we were clearer about what we were discarding than what we were choosing. (Indeed, we make choices of living arrangements today amid a flurry of considerations: companionship; cost; proximity to work, family, community members, other friends, and doctors; comfort; witness to simplicity; and so forth. All of them are legitimate, but not all are equally significant to the congregation's mission.) Moreover, after a site for community living has been chosen, there is often no set of expectations concerning behavior in one another's regard. A further indication of the silence that surrounds this issue is the nonreception given the 1994 document on community published by the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL): "Fraternal Life in Community." In my view this document is a clear and sympathetic statement of the present situation of community living, offered "to support the efforts made by many communities of religious, both men and women, to improve the quality" of their community life (§6). Its composition was preceded by co.nsultation with religious in many parts of the world. It has, however, been largely unnoticed or ignored by religious--for several possible reasons. The first is, of course, its unfortunate tide.~ A second possible reason was voiced by a sister in my community: "It gives an excellent presentation of Review for Religious ? the present situation, but the solutions offered are not helpful." Is this not tantamount to an admission that the responsibility for finding solutions belongs with us? A third possible reason is the widespread resistance to any consideration of the topic--in other words, our Achilles' heel. We were not yet ready in 1994 to entertain any discussion of this issue that lies close to the heart of our vocation. Perhaps we are still not ready. But in the interest of testing that premise--and of beginning a conversation--I would offer some starting points. These reflections are offered in response to six questions: (1) What are we talking about when we talk about community life? (2) What is its theological basis? (3) What can we say about a spirituality for community living? (4) What is the role of leadership in community living? (5) What are some special challenges to living community life today? (6) What can we do to renew this dimension of our community life? Note that these questions do not focus on the past, on our previous experience of community living, or on all the factors that have altered it or contributed to our present situation. Some current resources for the reflection are "Fraternal Life in Community" and the apostolic exhortation on consecrated life, Vita consecrata. In addition, and more significantly, each congregation brings its own charism, mission, and experience to the consideration of community living, and the insights shared and directions chosen will not necessarily be the same for each congregation. What are we talking about when we talk about community living? It is impossible to describe community living in a way that anticipates every circumstance, style, and modality. As noted above, we are not talking about an abstract idea, but about a social experience. I would suggest that, put as simply as possible, community living is what happens when two or more people relate to one another in a significant, mutually beneficial, and ongoing way. A significant relationship is one which is weighty, valuable, more than casual; it is multidimensional, not just spiritual, financial, social, or spatial. It is more than spiritual, that is, meeting regularly to pray together. It is more than financial, that is, sharing resources and accountability for the use of Community living is what happens when two or more people relate to one another in a significant, mutually beneficial, and ongoing way. March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Community Living them, It Jis more than social, that is, gathering for periodic card games, meals, nights out, and so forth. It is more than spatial, that is, living under the same roof or in close proximity to one another. The relationship is significant because all of these dimensions are integrated in a mutually beneficial and ongoing way. A mutually beneficial relationship contributes to the greater integrity and well-being of each participant. It is not crippled by immature dependencies, but strives for a healthy adult mutuality of responsible caring. "Carrying one another's burdens" in time of sickness or special need is an obligfition and a privilege of community life. The benefits sought and exchanged are on many levels, for example, relationship, spirituality, ministry, and, in some cases, mentorship in a new way of life. Finally, I would suggest that a bona. fide experience of community living is ongoing. It is a stable, predictable arrangement, not a succession of sporadic episodes or chance encounters:~ In essence, community members say to one another, "I will be there for youl you c~n count on me," whatever the circumstance or need. Continuity is essential to build trust and undergird mutual expectations. Notice that this description of community living does not say anything about specific situations such as living alone, in twosomes, or in large or small communities. It should be clear, however, that "two or more people in a significant, stable, mutually growthful relationship" does not include busy professionals who only cohabit for the sake of convenier~ce and economic efficiency. It does not include "boarding houses" where anonymity and inde~pendence are the chief values. Instead, .we are talking about good-faith efforts to live a principal value of religious life. With few exceptions it will include a common residence. What is the theological basis for community living? This is a question calculated to make the eyes glaze over, because it sounds so theoretical. It is, however, the fundamental question of motivation. Why do we choose a life of community? Beyond economy, efficiency, convenience, friendship, or natural attraction, what are the reasons that are rooted' in faith, that speak to the core of our identity as apostolic religious? Are there reasons which flow from our commitment toseek God that we call a~religious vocation? I would suggest two lines of reasoning or justification for community living, starting from personal call or vocation and from ecclesial identity. Review for Religious Each of us experienced a call to a way of life, an invitation from Jesus Christ to a life of greater intimacy. We joined our various congregations because membership in that congregation makes pursuit of that way of life possible. A "way of life" is a constellation of fundamental life choices having an internal coherence and consistency. One's way of life is defined by choices about relationship to God, to the Christian community, to sexuality, to possessions, to companions, to those in need. The way of life known as religious life is a radical response to the call of Jesus who says, "I am the way." The internal coherence of a way of life means that all the parts reinforce one another. For example, community life supports and is shaped by the practice of evangelical poverty. Together we share our earnings to provide for our needs and the needs of others. Together we decide how much is enough, whether for today or for our future. A single person living alone in the world could take a vow of poverty, but it would not be the same vow that religious take. It would differ in its expression and its obligations. Similarly, community life supports and is shaped by the practice of the vow of celibacy. Together we can accept the loneliness of unmarried life because of the companionship of one another. Together we witness to the surpassing love of Christ Jesus, who calls us to be for one another in community. And so forth. Obedience, prayer, mission-- all are shaped by and within community. Community living is not an accidental dimension of the way of life we have chosen, but a determinant of the way in which we realize every other dimension. This assertion needs special emphasis with respect to ministry. Before the synod on consecrated life, there was a fear expressed in some quarters that the outcome would be an affirmation of "consecration" over against "mission," of being vs. doing, and that this emphasis would be used to promote a quasi-monastic lifestyle. In actuality, however, the synod document expresses a beautiful integration of consecration and mission: "By the action of the Holy Spirit who is at the origin of every vocation and charism, consecrated life itself is a mission, as was the whole of Jesus' life" (§72). In other words, the life itself, in every dimension and in its totality, is apostolic. Therefore, if the demands of ministry are such as to diminish adherence to the other aspeCts--for example, prayer or community life or obedience--then an imbalance has been created which needs to be corrected. A reflection on the relationship of ministry to community is a March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Community Living good segue into a reflection on the ecclesial identity of religious life and its implications for community living. Vita consecrata presents community living as an especially eloquent sign of ecclesial community, that is, of the church's fundamental identity. Community demonstrates that sharing in trinitarian communion can change human relationships and create a new type of solidarity, not built on family ties or natural attraction, but on common values and commitments. "In this way it speaks to people both of the beauty of fraternal communidn and of the ways which actually lead to it. Consecrated persons live 'for' God and 'from' God, and precisely for this reason they are able to bear witness to the reconciling power of grace, which overcomes the divisive tendencies present in" the human heart and in society" (§41). Community is described as a "God-enlightened space in which to experience the presence of the risen Lord" (§42). It is a life in communion, which signifies and enriches the church and renders it better able to carry out its mission. Of course, being a sign of something implies a certain visibility. We have to ask: To what extent is our experience of community living visible? Who knows that sisters are present in an apartment building, a neighborhood, or a parish, and what does it sayto them? People in the world today hunger for an experience of community, for evidence that it is possible. In fact, a few years ago a group of intellectuals and public-policy experts formed a new movement called the communitarian movement. Its goal is to strengthen participatory democracy and to call on citizens to balance rampant individualism with a concern for the common good. Healthy religious communities balance individual needs with the common good day after day, in small ways and large. We do it out of love for God and for the sake of mission. If we find ways to share this experience with others, it can make the church more visible and be a gift to the world. What can we say about a spirituality for community? If the theological question deals with the why of community, the spirituality question deals with the how. What kind of spiritual focus, what kinds of practices, nourish and support community life? The first hallmark of community is that it be apostolic or outer-directed. "Not for ourselves alone" should be the watchword. As we said above, consecrated life is apostolic in its very essence. It is not that persons in religious congregations do apostolic works or have individual ministries, but that the whole way of life is for the sake of Review for Religious making visible and attractive the love of God. Community life, therefore, as an intrinsic element of the consecrated life, should be mission oriented in its intentionality and expression. An apostolic community welcomes neighbors and friends and even, at times, aliens and strangers. An apostolic community weaves the needs of the world into its spiritual consciousness and common prayer. An apostolic community shares its resources with the needy. An apostolic community responds to the concerns and priorities of the larger congregation. An apostolic community welcomes new members and introduces them to the way of life. In short, an apostolic community is not turned in on itself, isolated and self-sufficient, but open to receive and share with others. Community life is nourished by dialogu4 and prayer, ritual and celebrations. We are embodied people who need tangible expressions and symbols of shared values and commitments. From time to time we need to say what we believe in, what we question and wonder about, what we care about, and we need to hear others do the same. Every local community will have its own points of intersection, its own rhythm of coming together to speak to one another and together to speak to God. Many of today's religious entered their congregations at a time when the lifestyle was burdened with customs and practices that were no longer appropriate for contemporary life. In rejecting these, however, we sometimes lost sight of the fac.t that we still need tangible expressions of common beliefs and values. In a healthy community life, regular expectations, mutually agreed on, are complemented by spontaneous gatherings and special events. Prayer together furnishes moments of special intimacy. The congregation, in its constitutions and policies, should articulate some expectations that are common to all settings, while leaving room for local creativity. It is too great a burden for local groups to renegotiate everything every year or whenever there is a change in the membership. The common expectations should incorporate congregational feasts, texts, and traditions. Community life requires asceticism. No surprise here! We all Community demonstrates that sharing in trinitarian communion can change human relationships and create a new type of solidarity. March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Communi~ Living know that community living involves virtues and practices such as self-discipline, generosity, tolerance, and patience. It requires deliberate choices to be available to others, even to be inconvenienced by them. From time to time it gives us opportunities to "bear wrongs patiently" and to seek and to give forgiveness. Community life :is a privileged venue for discernment. The evangelical counsel that is most intrinsic to community life is obedience, not only in the sense of approvals for ministry and residence choices, but also in the sense of holding oneself open to the ongoing promptings of the Spirit in both small matters and large. The place where those prompfings can be heard, the persons who can articulate them, are often found in the local setting. Members in community are not on individual spiritual journeys that only occasionally intersect, but on a shared journey where the challenge or misadventure of one can become an opportunity for all. What is the role of leadership in creating and sustah~ing community? Over the years I have noticed the ease with which we affirm leadership in ministry and the difficulty we have affirming it in community. For example, if someone is an excellent principal or parish administrator or earns an award or grant for a creative ministry project, we are happy to congratulate her and to publish the achievement. We fail to notice, however, that congregations also have members with natural gifts for leadership within community. Here I am not thinking particularly of administrative skills, but of the ability to call the members to unity, to prayer, to responsibility for shared commitments, to celebration, and to reconciliation when needed. Years ago these were some of the responsibilities of the local superior. But now, with that role largely absorbed by province administration and with a collegial lifestyle in the local setting, we no longer have access to, nor honor, these gifts for community building. 1 am not suggesting that congregations institute an annual award for community, but I do want to point out that some sisters have special gifts for bringing out the best in the rest of us. By their example and by their initiative they help us create a more vibrant community life. Further, I suggest that this is not a second-order gift, less important than the ability to create and sustain new or difficult ministries. It is an essential gift that needs to be recognized and affirfi~ed for itself. This is particularly true because the sister Review for Religious who is especially adept at community building is often someone who is especially good at attracting, inviting, and welcoming new members, an activity that is vital to the congregation's future. I suspect that the gifts for community building are more widespread than we realize and that, by honoring them, we may encourage one another to cultivate them. In his book Religious Life as Adventure, Albert DiIanni SM says that the effective regeneration of religious communities depends on leadership from below, arising from the religious instincts at the grass roots. He counters to a degree the Nygren-Ukeritis study indicating the importance of visionary leadership for successful renewal. He suggests that this study may contain a hidden assumption, namely, that the present crisis in religious life is a functional one, a lack of leadership skills. In contrast, he maintains that the crisis has deeper roots, that it is a crisis of enthusiasm and faith, and that, if this is so, nothing will serve but a conversion of heart in a significant number of members at the base, a re-forming of congregations at the level of their faith.2 We all know of places where community is lived with special vibrancy, authenticity, and zeal. We all have women in our midst who live the life with generosity and joy. One problem we face is that too often these individuals are isolated from one another and thus their influence is dissipated. They can grow discouraged and settle into ruts of middle-class complacency--then the congregation's mission and charism are further diminished, less visible. My leadership team once had a conversation about the possibility of bringing some of these sisters together to create a "critical mass." We rejected the idea because we did not want to seem to be recognizing an "elite," or to suggest that what is required of.a Sister of Mercy is beyond the reach of any member. We decided that what is needed for vibrant communities are clear expectations, clearly expressed and honored by all. The goal is for every expression of community living to be intentional rather than associational. What are some special challenges to living community life today? There are a number of them. They are signs of our times, and represent significant challenges for individuals and congreghtions desirous of renewing community life. One is our relationship to the life of the parish and the local church. At one time most local communities were associated with parishes. The parish convent and the sisters in residence there were a symbol of the compassionate face of the church, a center of hospitality and help in time of need, March-April 1999 Gottemoeller ¯ Community Living and a witness to the reality of our way of life. Today there is no common venue where we are present. For those who would like to know more about us, there is no place to "look" for us. Perhaps a communal choice to participate in a specific parish community-- rather than shopping around for liturgies at convenient times or with congenial celebrants--might be a means of community renewal and public visibility. Related to the demise of the parish convent is the general disappearance of congregational properties for community living. As motherhouses are sold or converted to other uses and as sisters are dispersed into varied ministries, congregations have fewer sites that can accommodate a community gathering of more than two or three. Sisters gravitate into apartments because it seems there are no other choices. Congregations favor rentals because they cannot afford to purchase properties or because they have no assurance that" sisters will use congregational properties if they make them available. Of course, if a congregation's commitment to community life includes, for example, common prayer, hospitality, public witness, and multigenerational living, that commitment would involve making suitable residences available and using them. Another challenge is our simultaneous participation in multiple and sometimes intersecting communities. Our parish, our ministry setting, our professional colleagues, our family, and our friends can all make legitimate claims on us. In addition, we may be drawn to specific ecclesial and social groups such as the charismatic movement, the pro-life movement, or Call to Action. These commitments can enrich community life or strain it beyond endurance. It calls for a special discernment to strike the right balance, but participation in community life should enjoy a priority in virtue of its connection to the essence of our vowed commitment. A further challenge is the responsibility for the care of aging parents. Surely no one has a greater call on our generosity than those who have given us life. In some cases it means taking time outside other community and ministry duties to help with shopping, transportation, and similar needs. Occasionally the only way to respond to parents' needs may be to move into the family home in order to provide day-to-day assistance. These situations call for a special sensitivity on the part of community members to different family circumstances. An important question is: How can they share the burden and support one or more individual members in their ministry to their parents? Review for Religious Perhaps the most difficult challenge is the drift towards living alone. There are, of course, some reasons that justify this option. Most congregations have a few members whose psychological health is so fragile that they are unable to cope with the requirements of community living. Sometimes their coping mechanisms involve behaviors that make it extremely difficult for community members to live with them. These conditions warrant living alone, for as long as the conditions persist. It is a special responsibility of leadership to support the well-being of these members. To take another case, some ministry needs would go unmet were it not for some sisters' willingness to live, for a time, apart from the daily support of community life. A question for discernment is whether or not the ministry was chosen precisely to justify .living alone. As in the case of sisters living with aging parents, community members will want to reach out to support the individual who is at a distance. Beyond these two circumstances (and absence for the purpose of study), there is a growing tendency to justify living alone solely on the basis of personal choice. Where this choice has gained a legitimacy on a par with other community choices, the congregation's community life would seem severely compromised. Such a. choice--particularly if the sisters are healthy and actively engaged in ministry--deprives other members of the benefits of their companionship and reduces the number of community settings available. Further, the choice fails to uphold the responsibility to provide communities that can nurture new membership. Unfortunately, in some congregations the issue of living alone is so neuralgic that it cannot even be discussed, let alone challenged. Finally, our experiences and desires regarding community living are affected by intergenerational and multicultural issues. Age and ethnicity (and sociocultural background, education, ministry experience, and other factors too) may condition one's style of participating in community. At times these differences may be experienced as gift, at other times as limitation. The need to In some congregations the issue of living alone is so neuralgic that it cannot even be discussed, let alone challenged. March-April 1999 ,Gottemoeller ¯ Community Livin~ integrate these differences sensitively is one more reason for being clear about the congregation's expectations for community living. Moreover, in a world torn' by division and conflicting interests, "the presence of communities where people of different ages, languages, and cultures meet as brothers and sisters, and which remain united despite the inevitable conflicts and difficulties inherent in common life, is in itself a sign that bears witness to a higher reality.''3 What steps can we take to renew our community life? First, we can break the silence. We need to ask questions like: What would attract a young person to investigate our way of life? How would we welcome a potential new member and show her what our life is like? How is my spirituality nourished from our communal roots? How .does our way of life give visible witness to simplicity, communal sharing, prayer, love for one another, zeal for the gospel? We can no longe~r take for granted that nothing can be said about these matters. We may discover, in the conversation, that there is a hunger among us to talk about expectations, to be challenged out of complacency, and to live our communal life more intensely. In addition to beginning a conversation, we can resolve to "go with the life," wherever it is happening. We can affirm the vibrant communities that already exist, recognizing that they are not just happy accidents, but the fruit of effort and conviction. We can direct our financial and personal resources toward creating new communities among individuals who are willing to take the risk. We can invite other members to join existing communities that are vibrant. We can share our experience of community with associates, parishioners, inquirers, in ever widening circles. But this will be effective only if at the center a group of deeply'committed religious are living their vocation with sincerity and passion. I began these reflections by asserting that our inability to be clear about our understanding of and commitment to community living is a potentially fatal weakness. What followed were some thoughts designed to prompt the discussion and discernment that most congregations urgently need. Let me cite here a phrase that is the subtide of the document "Fraternal Life in Community": "The Love of Christ Gathers Us into Unity." This phrase captures the motive and dynamism of community life. Only the love of Christ is enough to support and sustain this way of life. Love attracts and gathers us. The process is never finished, always calling us to greater unity, greater generosity, greater zeal. This is an ideal from which we will all fall short, but one which will never be approached Review for Religious unless it is articulated in behavioral expectations appropriate to the charism and mission of a congregation. Not everything has been said here, but perhaps these reflections will be enough to break the silence and begin the conversation. The time has come, I believe, for us to consider community living with fresh eyes. The consideration can be the key to our ongoing conversion and our authentic renewal. Notes ~ During a visit with the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life in 1993, the officers of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious and the Conference of Maior Superiors of Men pointed out the unsuitability of the title. The only recognition of our objection, how-ever, is a note saying: "In this text, 'fraternal' and 'fraternity' refer inclu-sively to both women and men and are, in the iudgment of the translators, the words most apt in English for conveying the fullness and warmth of communion which lies at the heart of community." 2 New York: Society of St. Paul, 1994, pp. 96-97. The Nygren- Ukeritis study referred to is "Religious-Leadership Competencies," Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May-June 1993): 390-417. 3 "Fraternal Life in Community" (1994), §56. How Often Must I Forgive? (Matthew 18) The first purple crocuses of spring forgive your indifference, your neglect of alleluias at sunshine and the reassuring spill of birdsong . from still-bare maples. March forgives your detraction and contempt for its necessary gusts and its mud like that made by Jesus with spittle and now rubbed on the face of your yard to cure it of winter. Pa~ricia Schnapp RSM March-April 1999 1dO - - LEON McKENZIE The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection: Two Interior Witnesses St. Augustine of Hippo once asked a fascinating question about the believability of Jesus' resurrection from the dead.1 The raising of a dead man to life was as much a mystery of unspeakable proportions then as it is today, and Augustine wondered whether the proclamation of the resurrection is credible or incredible. Suppose bodily resurrection is essentially unbelievable. From Augustine's perspective in the early 5th century, most of the world believed that Jesus rose from the dead and ascended into heaven. This raised two points for consideration. On the one hand, if millions of Christians believed despite the incredibility of the Gospels, belief in the resurrection would itself be miraculous and a sign from God supporting the Christian message. On the other hand, if multitudes of Christians believed because the resurrection is credible, it would imply the resurrection is essentially believable. Nonbelievers, then, must ask themselves why they find it impossible to believe. The saint's scholarship in the art of persuasion and logic is evidenced in his formulation of the question. After reflecting seriously on the issue, it is with some ease Leon McKenzie EdD, professor emeritus at Indiana University, recendy published Pagan Resurrection Myths and the Resurrection of Jesus: .4 Christian Perspective. His address is 274 Adrienne Drive; Greenwood, Indiana 46142. Review for Religious that one arrives at the conclusion that the proclamation of Jesus' resurrection is highly credible. The Appeal of the Kerygrna The resurrection was credible to early Christians, in part because they heard the Good News heralded by apostles who were soon to suffer for the truth of what they announced. After the last of the apostles died, others announced the gospel, often at the risk of their lives. As historians note, those who heard the testimony of the martyrs and early apologists accepted the Good News of Jesus' resurrection in very large numbers. Beyond the valor of those who preached the resurrection, the message itself possessed its own intrinsic appeal. Evidently something subtle was working in the lives of converts to the Way, as the Christian life was called, something that made the Good News eminently credible. I suggest that two interior witnesses of great power were at work: the voice of the resurrection archetype and the voice of the Holy Spirit. The Resurrection Archetype An archetype is a pattern in the mind and a standard for discerning meaning. The profound depths of each human heart are shaped in such a manner as to influence a favorable response to the message of resurrection. This archetype can be compared, in a manner of speaking, to an instinct for what is true and good, to a natural power to grasp what is tremendously significant for human existence. This meaning structure of the human psyche, I propose, has been learned over countless years of universal human experience. The resurrection archetype cultivates a natural appetite for the central proclamation of the Christian faith, the resurrection of Jesus. The testimony of the Holy Spirit builds on this natural archetype and urges us, at the supernatural level, to affirm Jesus' resurrection as God's decisive word in history. The resurrection archetype takes its form from everyday experiences of members of the human race. The great theme of death and resurrection is etched indelibly on the world. The workings of the world reveal the death-and-resurrection motif in ordinary natural processes. Sometimes our experiences of these March-April 1999 For those who look, death and resurrection themes positively abound in our experience of the world. McKenzie ¯ The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection patterns of death and resurrection are so subtle that we fail to advert to them consciously. Nonetheless, these daily "texts" spelling out the meaning of the cosmos eventually enter into our hearts. Someone once said, "A perfume of promise is in the air." Even in the natural world, the very air seems to hold a promise of resurrection. Many resurrectiori themes are active in our daily lives. All we need do to discover these motifs is observe and reflect. Five of these experiences of death and resurrection are presented here: (1) the daily death and resurrection of the sun, (2) the burial of seeds in the fall and the resurrection of vegetation in the spring, (3) the death of joy that occurs in emotional depression and the eventual resurrection to a new life of happiness, (4) the promise of resurrection in the life cycles of small crawling creatures, and (5) our death each night in sleep and our resurrection in the morning. It must be emphasized again these are simply representative examples~ For those who look, death and resurrection themes positively abound in our experience of the world. The Daily Death and Resurrection of the Sun Each day the sun is born in the east. On many days the arrival of the sun is accompanied by a spectacular show of its glory. The golden disk goes across the sky and descends into the darkness beyond the western horizon at night. We can only imagine the power of this experience for ancient peoples who lacked a scientific explanation of what was happening. Even for us who have a scientific explanation, the experience is substantial. What dies in the gloom of the western horizon arises again in the glory of the morning sky. The Burial of Seeds and the Resurrection of Vegetation How mystifying it must have been for ancient peoples to watch the burial of seeds in the fall and the subsequent resurrection of flowers, young saplings, and crops in the spring. This universal experience of death and resurrection inscribed itself deeply in the Review for Religious human .psyche and was the cause of festivals of joy and promise. This experience was the source of myths of hope, once stripped of fantastic and sometimes bizarre details. Celebrations of new life and stories of renewed life reinforced the resurrection archetype. The Death of Joy and the Resurrection of New Life Perhaps every normal individual has experienced the death of joy on the occasion of the ordinary depression associated with such events as the death of a loved one, the loss of a friend due to a thoughtless word, the loss of a job, and even the losing of a pet dog or cat. Some persons undergo more serious depression and begin to believe they will never again experience happiness. Eventually the day arrives when joy returns, laughter is possible, and a resurrection of sorts takes place. The resurrection archetype grows stronger in our heart of hearts. The Promise of Resurrection in Small Crawling Creatures There is a hint of the resurrection of Christ, and our own resurrections with him, even in the small crawling creatures of the natural world. The larval grubs entombed in the earth emerge as beeries. The caterpillar wraps itself in a chrysalis only to come forth again as a beautiful butterfly. In its most elemental forms, nature displays signs of resurrection hope. Ancient peoples, much less distracted than we are today, could, not have missed reflecting on what meaning resides in the transformations of the least of God's creatures. The Death of Sleep and the Resurrection to Consciousness Perhaps nothing in our lives comes closer to modeling the death and resurrection motif in our experience of the natural world than the phenomenon of sleep. We lose ourselves in sleep and put aside conscious advertence only to regain ourselves and our consciousness in the daily resurrection that occurs with our awakening. At one level of explanation, we fall asleep because we are tired and arise because we are refreshed. At a more profound level of interpretation, we fall asleep and rise again as a sign of death and resurrection. These repeated experiences, universal in their scope among human beings, wrought profound developments in the resurrection meaning-structures of the collective unconscious of the race. It is not at all difficult to believe that God put resurrection motifs into March-April 1999 McKenzie ¯ The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection the world as promises of the defining event in human history, the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Functions of the Resurrection Archetype How has the resurrection archetype functioned? First, after taking form in the hearts of people who lived long ages ago, it found its way into myths that sages and storytellers told and retold about gods who died and came to life again--particularly agricultural gods, in accord with the seasons of growing. How these myths may have come to be is an interesting process, but one that is too complicated to review within this brief article.2 Suffice it to say that the resurrection archetype was the primary guide for the mythmakers who created "once upon a time" stories of gods who regularly descended to the underworld and returned later. Frequently these myths were used to explain why vegetation died in the fall and was reborn in the spring. Second, in accord with divine providence, the archetype worked to prepare the way for the acceptance of the risen Lord. After Jesus' resurrection, it continued providentially to provide, at a natural level, an interior witness to his resurrection. Upon hearing the announcement of Jesus' resurrection, a bystander who was open to God might think, "This sounds very interesting. This message resonates in my soul. The proclamation of Jesus' resurrection is supported by my entire experience of the workings of the world. Perhaps my experience of the death and resurrection themes in nature was God's way of preparing me for this message about Jesus." Now this initial natural attraction to the notion of Jesus' resurrection would probably not be put into words. Instead, the bystander in the preceding paragraph probably experienced an unspoken intuition that stirred a natural feeling favorable to the Good News. For some indefinable reason in the bystander's mind, he or she would have felt drawn to the message. Creation and the Resurrection Archetype One final issue about the archetype must be considered. The resurrection archetype" in the depths of the human psyche grew out of the universal experience of the resurrection theme in the workings of the world. But how did it happen that these Review for Religious resurrection motifs came to exist in the world? The answer is related to the very creation of the world. We read in Genesis that God created the heavens and earth and "the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep" (Gn 1:1-2). In the act of creation God rescued the world from its own nothingness. From nothingness God brought forth a dynamic world that participates in his own being. This "stamped" the world, so to speak, with the pattern of death and resurrection. The very act of bringing cosmos out of chaos is the fundamental motif of death and resurrection that is repeated everywhere in the workings of the world. The resurrection themes we experience it the world are the "traces" of the first act of creation. They are reminders of creation. The signs of resurrection manifested in the world of our experience are hallmarks of a God who brings forth something out of nothing and life out of death, a God who does things we might deem "impossible." We are heirs of the Father with Jesus, and our inheritance is everlasting life. The Holy Spirit The second interior witness to the truth of Jesus' resurrection is the Holy Spirit. One of the most revealing New Testament passages concerning the Holy Spirit's testimony to the resurrection of Jesus is Romans 8:1-17. The passage speaks to a number of major ideas. It seems as if St. Paul experienced a flood of rich insights as he dictated his letter to his scribe Tertius. "The mind that is seton the flesh is hostile to God," Paul says; "it does not submit to God's law---indeed, it 'cannot, and those who are in the flesh cannot please God." A little further along Paul says, "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit which dwells in you." Finally, Paul concludes this passage by noting, "When we cry, 'Abba! Father!' it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ." The Holy Spirit is our interior witness to several truths, all of March-April 1999 McKenzie ¯ The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection which are closely connected. First, we are children of God because Christ has set us free from the flesh, that is, from that part of us that is unredeemed. We are, in fact, on intimate, terms with the Father and even address him as Abba or Papa. Second, we are heirs of the Father with Jesus, and our inheritance is everlasting life. This is the life to which Jesus was raised after his death and burial. Third, this inheritance is due precisely to the Spirit of God who raised Jesus from the dead. The Holy Spirit gives witness within us to our adoption, to the risen Christ, and to our inheritance of Jesus' everlasting life. The Holy Spirit testifies to the truth of the resurrection. Credence in the "Incredible" Humanly speaking, and looking only to the surface of things, it seems incredible that someone who is dead could be raised to a new life. Note that Jesus was not merely resuscitated or revived to life in the old flesh. He rose to life in a glorified body (I Co 15:1-47). In the days after the ascension and before the descent of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost, some might have thought that the message of Jesus' resurrection had "almost no chance of being accepted. But those who heard the announcement of Jesus' resurrection--the proclamation of an event long before it became a teaching--not only affirmed the resurrection, but did so in large numbers. People believed not only because they heard the words of the aposdes and their successors, but also because they were attuned to what they heard in their own hearts. That so many new people accepted the Good News of Jesus' resurrection from the dead in the 1 st century and that the Christian faith became so widespread in such a short time seems miraculous. The testimony of credible witnesses such as the apostles to something that seemed incredible in human terms, namely, the raising of a crucified "criminal" to a new life, evoked strong affirmations of faith. Such affirmations, however, would have been futile without the interior testimony of the resurrection archetype at the natural level of human existence and the testimony of the Holy Spirit at the supernatural level. The interior witness of the resurrection archetype and the Holy Spirit transformed a . proclamation that seemed incredible into. something utterly . -I-~6-I believable and altogether inviting. Review for Religious Notes ~ St. Augustine, The City of God, trans. G. Walsh et al. (New York: Doubleday Image Books, 1958), pp. 505-508. 2 See my Pagan Resurrection Myths and the Resurrection of Jesus: A Christian Perspective (Charlottesville, Virginia: Bookwrights Press, 1997). The Recital Sacred was the silence as the tiny woman caressed the keys almost~ possessively. This was bliss: seven cherished friends gathered to hear her heart's story, eager to let her bare the glory of a soul poured out in ardent prayer. She knew they knew she met her God through her Magnificat of making music. Anna Marie Mack SSJ March-April 1999 -.157 CYNTHIA BOURGEAULT From Woundedness to Union ~early fifteen years ago, in his now classic Lost Christianity, .&. ¯ Jacob Needleman argued the need for an "intermediate Christianity" that might bridge the gap between the religion's lofty spiritual teachings and the ability of the average Christian to put them into practice. "Stone must become water before it can flow," he writes. "The pathos of Christendom. is that of preaching to stones that they must flow into the ocean.''~ Midway through the book there is a cameo app.earance by the Catholic monk Father Thomas Keating, at the time (1978) abbot of St. Joseph's Abbey in Spencer, Massachusetts. Here he and a few associates were experimenting with a new prayer form called centering prayer, aimed at expressing the essence of the Christian contemplative heritage in a simplified form accessible to contemporary Christians. In the course of a lengthy interview, Needleman expresses excitement that Keating's experiments might be headed toward recovering that lost link, though he stops short of commending them outright. Among the many debts of gratitude I owe to this book is that it was my introduction to Thomas Keating, who has subsequently become my teacher and friend. In the sixteen years since that Cynthia Bourgeault PhD is founding director of the Maine Monastic Foundation, a network of people attempting to live the contemplative life in the world according to the Benedictine Rule. She is also an Episcopal priest, adjunct professor of spirituality at Bangor Theological Seminary, and a developmental editor for Thomas Keating. The current article has been slightly adapted from one published in Gnosis, No. 34 (Winter 1995). Her address is 526 Isabella Point Road; Salt Spring Island, British Columbia; V8K 1V3 Canada. Review for Religious interview at Spencer, there have been significant developments. A year after Lost Christianity was published, Keating resigned as abbot of Spencer and "retired" to the small mountain monastery of St. Benedict's in Snowmass, Colorado. There local interest in centering prayer quickly snowballed into a national organization called Contemplative Outreach Ltd., now a decade old and some fifteen thousand members strong. In the effort to develop a conceptual framework for the growing ranks of practitioners, Keating has produced a series of books--Open Mind, Open Heart (1987), Invitation to Love (1992), and Intimacy with God (1994)---in which he develops an increasingly cohesive and subtle vision of the Christian spiritual journey, the path of inner transformation that begins when one embraces a regular practice of centering prayer. Keating says, "The method of centering prayer was specifically developed as a dialogue between contemporary psychological models and the classic language of the Christian spiritual path." That "classic language," which envisions a progression through purgative, illuminative, and unitive stages, has guided the journey of many a saint, but for many reasons both good and bad it often fails to resonate with the spirit of our own times, where the prevailing paradigm for transformation consists of woundedness, recovery, and wellness. ls there a way of integrating these visions? Keating's system is an attempt to do just that--to sketch out a road map which begins in woundedness and ends, if one follows it all the way, in transforming union. While most of the elements are individually familiar, the system itself represents a significant new synthesis. Furthermore it is yoked to a powerful meditational praxis through which people change more quickly and deeply than through any other method I have seen. It is not exactly an "intermediate Christianity" according to Needleman's specifications, which he defines as "the accumulation of the force of inner attention" (p. 119). But, functionally, Keating seems to be achieving the desideratum that Needleman described so eloquently: to help stones become water, to take the first steps toward significant inner transformation within a classically Christian framework. Not All Meditation Is Alike Before exploring the intricacies of Keating's paradigm, it is first necessary to understand something of the properties of centering March-April 1999 Bo_ur~eault * From Woundedness to Union prayer. While common understanding might consider all meditational methods basically interchangeable in that they begin by gathering the mind and end by transcending it, Keating's entire teaching rests on the assertion that centering prayer is a distinct method whose most apparent characteristic is a tendency to trigger the unconscious. This discovery, which grew out of direct observation rather than theory, came several years after the progress report in Lost Christianity~ At that time Keating and his associates Father William Meninger and Father Basil Pennington were still thinking in terms of a renewal of contemplative prayer, the creation of an inherently Christian meditation in response to the massive defection of younger Catholics to Eastern meditational paths. Based largely on the 14th-century text The Cloud of Unknowing, centering prayer took its place among other Christian meditational forms sprouting at the time, particularly Christian Zen prayer and the "Christian Meditation" of Dora John Main. It was a devotional method pure and simple, a way of deepening and intensifying the relationship with God. There was at that point no psychological underpinning attached to it, nor even a clue that one might exist. Then in 1983 a charter group of centering-prayer initiates organized the first ten-day Centering Prayer Intensive at the Lama Foundation in San Cristobal, New Mexico, hoping to achieve a more concentrated meditative experience on the general model of a Zen sesshin. While Keating and several others in the group were well-experienced in sesshins, no one was prepared for the volume and vibrancy of emotional outpouring that flooded forth from five hours a day of centering prayer. Tears, repressed memories, deep intuitions all came to the surface in a jumble, along with a sense of catharsis and bonding among the dozen participants that to this day has not faded. From his years as abbot, Keating was used to the gradual sensitizing of the unconscious during the course of contemplative life, but not with such speed and intensity. He recalls seeing "people going through in ten days what it might have taken them twenty years to go through at a monastery." He quickly realized he had a tiger by the tail, and it did not take long to figure out why: it lay in the methodology of the prayer itself. Most meditational methods are concentrative in nature: they start by gathering and focusing the attention, whether by repeating Review for Religious a mantra, following the breath, or focusing on bodily sensation. With centering prayer, however, one starts at the opposite end of the spectrum, "not with attention, but with intention," as Keating puts it. The intention in this case is simply to rest in the presence of God beyond all thought and emotion. A "sacred word" is used in the prayer, but not as a mantra, to be repeated consistently as a focal point .for attention, but simply as a touchstone for intent: when one finds oneself attracted to a thought or emotion during the course of prayer, the sacred word simply serves as a reminder to let go of the thought and rest in the bare presence of God. Thus thoughts may--and do---come and go; the idea is to develop a detached attitude .toward them. One reaches contemplation through the access point of consent, not through focused attention. If meditational methods were arranged on a scale from most concentrative to most receptive, centering prayer would be at the far end of the receptive methods, dropping below even the bare awareness of vipassana (insight) meditation or dzogchen. As Keating suspected--and transpersonal psychology has subsequently confirmed--the more receptive the meditational method, the greater the involvement of the unconscious. Concentrative methods tend to retard this "unloading of the unconscious," as Keating terms it. Receptive methods, on the other hand, foster it, particularly in an intensive group situation such as at that pioneering Lama retreat. But Keating's real intuitive leap was to recognize the import of this observation: this unloading of the unconscious was not an inconsequential side effect, but a significant purification process at work. This was the connecting link he had long been looking for, between purification as traditionally presented in Christian teaching (as a reprogramming of conscious motivation, or the struggle against sin) and the realization by contemporary psychology that such reprogramming goes only skin-deep and in fact can cause serious damage if used for repression and denial of unconscious impulses. "The real ascesis is the purification of unconscious With centering prayer, one starts at the opposite end of the spectrum, "not with attention, but with intention," as Keating puts it. Bourgeault ¯ From Woundedness to Union L ¯ J motives," Keating had long argued--but how to get at them? With centering prayer as a catalyst for the release of unconscious elements, he found his tool and his paradigm. Apophatic Psychotherapy Keating's teaching begins by fundamentally repositioning meditation in the context of a spiritual praxis. Rather than seeing it as a tool for developing concentration, relaxing stress, or accessing higher states of consciousness, he sees it as a catalyst for the purification of the unconscious. This purification is itself prayer. It is not a preparation for relationship with the higher, but the relationship itself. Upon this cornerstone he builds his paradigm of "the Divine Therapy." How does this purification work? As the unconscious unloads during centering prayer, Keating teaches, these small purifications are actually a part of a larger project. One begins to dismantle the "false self,!' the needy, driven, unrecognized motivations that govern most of our untransformed human behavior. Dovetailing classic Christian teaching with contemporary psychology, Keating suggests the false self as a modern equivalent for the traditional concept of original sin. Beginning in infancy (or even before), each of us, in response to perceived thr¢ats to our well-being, develops a false self: a set of protective behaviors driven at root by a sense of need and lack. The essence of the false self is this driven, addictive energy, consisting of tremendous emotional investment in compensatory "programs for happiness," as Keating calls them. It is this false self .that we bring to the spiritual journey; our "true self" lies buried beneath the accretions and defenses. In all of us a huge amount of healing has to take place before our deep and authentic quest for union with God--which requires tremendous courage and inner p~'esence to sustain--escapes the gravitational pull of our psychological woundedness and self-justification. This, in essence, constitutes the spiritual journey. So far this is orthodox psychological and theological fare. But where Keating takes the boldest step is in his assertion that centering prayer is a direct catalyst for this purification of the false self. As one sits in centering prayer, with the intent to rest and trust in God, the unconscious begins to unload "the emotional junk of a lifetime." Repressed memories, pain, and accumulated dull hurt rise Review for Religious to the surface and are, through an attitude of gentle consent, allowed to depart. As Keating visualizes the process, The level of deep rest accessed during the prayer period loosens up the hardpan around the emotional weeds stored in the unconscious, of which the body seems to be the warehouse. The psyche begins to evacuate spontaneously the undigested emotional material of a lifetime, opening up new space for self-knowledge, freedom of choice, and the discovery of the divine presence within. As a consequence, a growing trust in God, a bonding with the Divine Therapist, enables us to endure the process. Thus. the gift of contemplative prayer is a practi-cal and essential tool for confronting the heart of the Christian ascesis--namely, the struggle with our uncon-scious motivation--while at the same time establishing the climate and necessary dispositions for a relationship with God and leading, if we persevere, to divine union.2 For me the most fruitful connection here is the linking of the "dark night" or "cloud of unknowing" of the traditional apophatic path and the psychological process--the "darkness" of the psyche. If psychoanalysis represents "cataphatic therapy"--using words, concepts, and awareness to illuminate the darkness of our inner ground--Keating is presenting centering prayer as a kind of "apophatic psychotherapy" ("apophatic" meaning that which points one toward the ineffable beyond all words, concepts, and forms). What really happens when one enters the cloud of unknowing--resting in God beyond thoughts, words, and feelings--is a profound healing of the emotional wounds of a lifetime. As these wounds are gradually brought to the surface and released in prayer (one simply lets them go nonpossessively, rather than retaining them for inspection as one does in psychoanalysis), the false self weakens and the true self grfidually emerges. For Keating this is the real meaning of the term "transforming union." As he states in Intimacy with God, "We can bring the false self to liturgy and to the reception of the sacraments, but we cannot bring the false self forever to contemplative prayer because it is the nature of contemplative prayer to dissolve it" (p. 98). Keating does not claim that such a practice replaces the need for ordinary psychotherapy. Indeed, material that arises out of the unconscious in prayer sometimes requires the assistance of psychotherapy, particularly in cases of retrieved memories of emotional or sexual abuse. But in centering prayer this healing and March-April 1999 Bourgeault * From Woundedness to Union purification occurs within the sanctuary of prayer, combined with a deepening trust in God. So, at the same time that healing is going on at the psychological level, a deepening of the spiritual faculties is occurring as well--recollection, vigilance, attention of the heart-- leading to a blossoming of the traditional theological virtues of faith, hope, and love. The Shape of the Journey Traditionally we are used to thinking of spiritual transformation as an ascent. The effects of a spiritua~ practice, we expect, are to make us more calm, more able to cope, more filled with equanimity. Keating's model, however, suggests a different scenario. The ascent is inextricably bound to a descent into the ground of our own psyche. Thus periods of psychological ferment and destabilization are signs that the journey is progressing, not that it is a failure. As the. practice of meditational.prayer loosens repressed material in the unconscious, the initial fruits of spiritual practice, may not be peace and enlightenment, but destabilization and the emergence into consciousness of considerable pain. One woman in our group in Maine experienced this process particularly vividly. After only a few weeks of regular practice of centering prayer, she found herself increasingly tense and irritable and frequently went home from meditation to pick a fight with her husband. She was tempted to quit, but with the encouragement of the group she stayed on and cooperated with the process. What was happening (rather quickly in her case) was that a brittle control--keeping everything at a superficial level of "niceness"--collapsed almost immediately in the face of her immersion in contemplative silence. She found herself face-to-face with a deep guilt about, her second marriage and her terror that God would punish both her and her husband with cancer. Needless to say, "resting" in such a God was not a tranquil experience! But with a good deal of courage she has been able to face these feelings, work through them, and reestablish a relationship with both her husband and God on a deeper, fleer level. In my own work with centering prayer, I have learned by repeated experience that the "reward" for a period of deepening practice is often the emergence of a patch of pain long buried followed by several days of emotional turmoil, Keating calls it "the Review for Religious archaeological dig." As trust grows in God and practice becomes more stable, we penetrate deeper and deeper down to the bedrock of pain, the origin of our personal false self. The results are often horrifying to ourselves. Yet, says Keating, this does not mean that the spiritual journey is a failure, but that it is doing its job. The fruits of this unloading are more than worth the pain. In response to each significant descent into the ground of our woundedness, there is a parallel ascent in the form of inner freedom, the experience of the fruits of the spirit, and beatitude. There are several practical implications to this idea, but the paramount one--for both spiritual seekers and spiritual guides--is to recognize that centering prayer is a psychological method and will produce results in that realm, some of them initially painful. In Intimacy with God Keating recounts how a graduate student recendy did a thesis on centering prayer, along with several forms of Eastern meditation, recommending them as a way to reduce anxiety. Keating wrote back to the man saying, "Centering prayer will reduce anxiety for perhaps the first three months. But, once the unconscious starts to unload, it will give you more anxiety than you ever had in your life." For individual practitioners he recommends a limited dosage-- twenty to thirty minutes twice a day is the normal iprescription--to prevent the premature emergence of material into consciousness. Ten-day retreats rely on a trained staff to help handle a more intensive unloading process. Keating insists that the method is safe and that only in the case of serious depression or psychotic symptoms should the prayer be discontinued. By interweaving the contemporary language of healing with the traditional language of holiness, Keating extends the range of both. His synthesis is spacious, with plenty of room for .growth. For those preoccupied with their own recovery from woundedness (and many come to centering prayer by way of the recovery movement), it provides a gende and supportive context in which the process can unfold. But recovery is not the endpoint. For Keating the real goal Keating has bridged the gap between contemporary psychology and the traditional language of spiritual purification. March-April 1999 Bourgeault ¯ From Woundedness to Union of the inner transformation is not one's personal healing, but the ability to be a Christian as measured by the ability to follow the teachings of Christ all the way to mystical union. For in the final analysis it is Keating's own deep mystical spirit that undergirds the entire paradigm, offering .a scale as vast as the cosmos: There remains a further energy, which is reserved for the next life. That is ~vhat theologians call the Beatific Vision. This requires freedom from the limitations of the physical body in order to experience it. This energy is so intense that, if it were not mediated by the ordinary affairs of daily life that distract us from continual contact with the divine energy, we would turn into a grease spot. This is the energy that lights the universe and forms the whirling nebulae. We can receive only a little of it at a time. In heaven we can have all we want.3 Toward an Intermediate Christianity Keating's thinking has evolved considerably since his interview with Needleman years ago, and it is still evolving. Many of his observations bear much more dialogue and fine-tuning, but at this point his appears to be a cohesive new.synthesis that offers a significant first step in the direction of a functional "intermediate Christianity." Clearly gaps are being bridged. The first of these is the gap between theory, and practice: Keating's method seems to provide a way for stones to become water. By restoring a meditational praxis--and one so uniquely consonant with the basic modality of Christianity--he has created an inner laboratory for practicing the basic gesture of faith. I have watched people like the woman in Maine confront their woundedness, heal, and come alive spiritually as they make the connection between their daily lives and what goes on in prayer. Second, Keating has bridged the gap between contemporary psychology and the traditional language of spiritual purification. By repositioning meditation as a tool for purification of the unconscious--and by insisting that people do it, not just talk about it--he can be faithful to contemporary models of healing while pointing the way beyond, toward profound inner transformation in ever deepening surrender. In so doing, he has rescued us both from the vagueness of contemporary psychojargon and from the violence of traditional metaphors based on renunciation, vigilance, and Review for Religious "spiritual warfare" (as if a part of us had to be killed, or at least locked up, in order for holiness to grow). For Keating, spiritual transformation is gentle, ever-so-gentle, and holds always before one the need for integration of psyche and spirit. The one cannot dominate the other; they must proceed apace. If the spirit's role is to be strong, the psyche's is to be vulnerable, and the lion must lie down with the lamb before the peaceable kingdom will reign within. The touchstones of the entire teaching are gentleness, patience, consent, and a willingness to let the process of integration unfold with its own pace and authenticity. Of course there is woundedness, but there is holiness as well. How the two come together--not which wins, but how they join-- constitutes the unique and profound meaning of one's life, the emergence of the true self, transformed in Christ. Of Thomas Keating's many contributions~ this one is for me the most powerful. ~r Notes l Jacob Needleman, Lost Christianity (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1980), p. 119. 2 Thomas Keating, Intimacy with God (New York: Crossroad, 1994), p. 3. 3 Keating, p. 103. Resurrection Power Behold the slender shoot Reaching for the light, The flower just unfurled, The barren branch Heavy with blossoms. Here is the Force That walked out of the tomb, Conquering our worst foe. Here is Life incorruptible, The Risen One waiting To spring forth in you. Teresa Burleson March-April 1999 PAMELA A. SMITH On the Go with Chronic Illness, Sitting Still with Mark How does anyone with a long-term, life-threatening, complex, and confounding chronic illness stay with it and retain humor and hope for the long haul? How does one take in and make sense of the regular reminders from endocrinologist, internist, and consulting counselor that it does inevitably get less manageable and, yes, worse? How does one stay happily productive in the face of the evidence that most folks in the same situation have long since quit work and gone on disability leave? What is the Christian mix of resignation and stubbornness, relaxation and fight, that makes it possible to slow down and still go barreling forward? These were some of the questions--maybe the most critical ones--which I carried with me on a rainy March day to a hideaway in close proximity to tentatively budding trees and a horse pasture still tinged with the orange and yellow of winter grass. The evergreen shrubs and hedge persisted, drippingly at the moment, around the Michigan country home to which I retreated (with all my griefs in my arms, as Dylan Thomas said of lovers, and all those griefs probably everywhere else too). My IDDM--insulin-dependent diabetes mellitus, long ago labeled "britde"--was afflicting me with "diabetic fatigue," I had recently told my boss, the rector of a seminary. He affirmed my request to take some needed time away. I can get a bit gl

Issue 50.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1991. ; Review for Religious Volume 50 Number 2 March/April 1991 Beyond the Liberal Model Exiting from Religious Life Thoughts about Science and Prayer The Death of Dearly Loved~Friends 50/~INIVERSARY VOLUME REVIEW FOR RELIGIOIJS (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus; Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428: St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to REVIEW I:Oa REI.IGIOUS; |~.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Subscription rates: Single copy $3.50 plus mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs: two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for subscription informa-tion and mailing costs. © 1991 REVIEW FOR REt,mloUS. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Michael G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Edito'rs Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors David J. Hassel, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Advisory Board Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. March/Api'il 1991 Volume 50 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor should be sent to RF:\'mw FOR RF:LtGtOt~S; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" shnuld be addressed Io Elizabeth McDonough, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue; P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. Back issues should be ordered from REVtEW ~'o~ REt.mto~Js; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of Print" issues are available from University Microfilms International: 300 N. Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to: Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS. When we Christians refer to the centrality of the paschal mystery, we mean that Jesus' passion, death, and resurrection somehow remain the necessary pattern for our human living in relation to God. In the gospels, Jesus often uses nature images or parables of human activity to point us towards the pattern of his dying and rising--a pat-tern in which we all who are his followers profess to share. Today it seems that we easily turn to the seed dying to bring forth life or to the metamorphosis of caterpillar to butterfly to gain insight into our way of human growth or maturity. Yet we find it hard to go from the dark beauty of nature imagery to the stark reality of Christ on a cross. So, too, the contemporary patterns of various psychological growth models can be-come so enlightening for our understanding of human development that they seem to transfix our gaze. We may stop short of viewing our mod-els through the stronger lens of a Christian optic. We should not be ungrateful that we can make use today of helpful imagery from nature and models from psychology in order that we may better understand and respond to a particularly confusing time in our world and in our Church, in religious life and in priesthood, in the fam-ily and in the parish. But the pattern of Christ--with his presence en-abling us to enter once again into his paschal mystery--remains central to our Christian focus on life issues. Rather than being confronted with a transition darkness relieved only by images and metaphors, we as Chris-tians believe that we are always being summoned into the mystery of God's transforming action breaking into the vagaries of our natural and human worlds. We struggle neither as victims nor as "Rambo" fight-ers. Instead, we are invited once again to ally ourselves with the Lord in bringing about God's reign more fully into our own lives and into the world we affect. Because our God is a God always actively working with our created world, we live and pray and work in a loving relationship with God--always developing and being purified, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad. The elements of passion, death, and resurrection are touched upon in various ways by various articles in this issue. Our first article, "A Personal Memoir: The Arrupe Years," by Roland Faley, T.O.R., is a unique tribute to the former Jesuit superior general Pedro Arrupe, who died on February 5, 1991. Arrupe provided leadership and gave hope to 161 162 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 many religious congregations through much of the paschal-mystery times for religious life following upon Vatican II; he himself suffered his own paschal mystery through a debilitating stroke in 1981, then through the difficult time when a papal delegate was imposed upon the Jesuits, and finally through his lingering half-life over.the past seven years since his resignation as general. In the darkness of religious-life renewal, an image of reweaving has captured the imagination of many. From her perspective of working with many religious groups in renewal efforts, Elizabeth McDonough, O.P., in "Beyond the Liberal Model: Quo Vadis?" assesses some of the strands of reweaving efforts and makes her own effort to suggest ways towards deeper faith realities that remain unrealized at present. Grappling with the reality of the paschal mystery in the hard deci-sions about existence facing some religious congregations is the subject of the article by.Marie Beha, O.S.C. Eileen O'Hea, C.S.J., considers the dying process of the individual who considers leaving a religious com-munity and the needed response of the community. Renee Yann, R.S.M., reflects on the power of community in the special moment of the death of dearly loved friends. Three articles on pray,.: may shed some light as we move through some dark passages in our ever developing love-life with God. Benedict Auer, O.S.B., expands the Benedictine lectio approach with some in-sights into the use of videos. Edgar Bourque, A.A., inculturates an Augustinian way of praying into our American context. Some refresh-ing ways of understanding prayer are presented through the medium of science by Dennis Sardella. Helpful and comprehensive describe the treatment of vocation min-istry by Jeanne Schweickert, S.S.S.F., in her "Co-creators of History: United States Vocation Ministry." The same words apply equally well to the article by Kenneth Davis, O.F.M.Conv., "U.S. Hispanic Catho-lics: Trends and Recent Works." May the Lenten and Easter season~ guide us all further into the pas-chal mystery which focuses our life with the Lord. David L. Fleming, S.J. A Personal Memoir: The Arrupe Years Roland J. Faley, T.O.R. Father Roland J. Faley lived in Rome as vicar general of the Third Order Regular of St. Francis, i 971 - 1977, and superior general 1977- i 983. In December 1990 he completed his term as executive director of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM). His mailing address is St. Thomas More Friary; 650 Jackson St., N.E.; Washington, D.C. 20017. The time was the early seventies. Rome was still caught up in a spirit of postconciliar excitement. Pope Paul VI's inherent caution in the face of the untried was tempered by an unfettered spirit in the air which wanted to let things happen. The present writer was returning to Rome after an absence of more than a decade, having been elected to the general gov-ernment of his Franciscan Order. I had been a student in Rome at the time of John XXIII's election. Those had been heady days of great prom-ise, at that time more a hope than anything else. It was only after the council, years later, that the real struggle of aggiornamento could be felt. Pedro Arrupe was the general of the Jesuits. Vibrant and spirited are adjectives that hardly do him justice. He was also president of the Un-ion of Superiors General (USG), the organization made up of the heads of men's religious institutes in the Church: It was a job for which Ar-rupe was ideally suited although one always wondered how he found the time. It was often said that the first time he was elected to the office by his peers, it was because he was general of the Jesuits. His subsequent reelections (and there were at least four) were because he was Pedro Ar-rupe. The story says a great deal about the man, quite apart from his of-fice. It was not long after I became active in the USG that Arrupe asked me to serve on the Justice and Peace Commission and later named me 163 164 / Review for Religious, March-April 1990 to be the press officer for the Union. It was in the latter capacity espe-cially that I came to know Arrupe the man. The Justice Agenda Arrupe steered the Society of Jesus through a very difficult period in its history. The thirty-first and thirty-second general congregations had set the concerns of the world's neediest at the center of the Society's mis-sion. A strong emphasis on social justice permeates the documents of these general congregations. The passage from documents to im-plementation was marked by an inevitable reaction, not all of it positive, within the Society itself. Arrupe was undaunted. The new direction reso-nated with his whole life as a missionary. The evil of the arms race was eminently clear to one who had survived the first use of the atomic bomb in Japan, 1945. For Arrupe this postconciliar direction of his institute was not a ques-tion of personal choice. It had been mandated by the Society's highest authority, a general congregation; for the general of the institute, im-plementation was simply not an option. In that spirit of obedience, he charted a new course which made strong demands on the whole Society of Jesus. On the level of general government alone it required personnel and resources not easily commandeered. He never wavered in the pur-suit of a course that for him bore the faces of countless deprived and suf-fering people. In responding to any issue, Arrupe's enthusiasm was infectious. He was the idea man, the animator, willing to leave details and implemen-tation to others. At times he seemed unrealistic, but he never left one un-inspired. The great picture was always there. An unforgettable moment occurred during the refugee crisis of the late seventies. The movement of peoples was felt in many parts of the world, with Rome affected by a large influx of people from Ethiopia. A visit to Arrupe from Robert McNamara, then president of the World Bank, proved to be a real catalyst in moving the refugee project forward. An urgent response was called for by the sheer volume of people arriv-ing in Rome after the revolution in Ethiopia. The greatest need was for housing and food. The Jesuits opened their own refugee office to address the problem internationally and in Rome. At the same time Arrupe gal-vanized the forces of men and women general superiors. Through the built-in network of the two Unions of Superiors General, housing was found for the Ethiopians throughout the city, especially in the genera-lates themselves. A hot meal was served each evening to hundreds of per-sons in the basement of the GesO, the main Jesuit church in the heart The Arrupe Years of the city. It was always interesting to meet religious leaders of interna-tional congregations ladling soup or serving pasta at the refugee center. Arrupe took an active interest in the work of the USG's Justice and Peace Commission. He urged its members to respond to known viola-tions of human rights anywhere on the world scene, to become involved in the Year of the Woman (1976), and to sensitize members of religious institutes on the role of justice in religious life, especially in the wake of the 1971 Synod of Bishops. His leadership in social justice was firm and steady, but never abrasive or confrontational. He had, for example, an unusual sensitivity for diplomatic concerns and was a strong believer in the power of persuasion. But his commitment to the thesis of justice as a constitutive element of the Gospel message was total. This was jus-tice in the service of faith, an idea integral to Arrupe's thinking. There was no divorcing faith and justice; it was, moreover, a justice rooted in love. For Arrupe, it was unthinkable to speak of a struggle for justice apart from a belief in that justice for all people willed by God himself. Christian Unity Ecumenism was still a fledgling enterprise on the Roman scene when Arrupe moved the USG toward a better understanding of men and women religious of the other churches. In the early seventies, Michael Fisher, provincial of the Anglican Franciscans from England, and Ar-rupe decided to initiate a permanent consultation on religio,us life among religious of the Catholic, Reformed, and Anglican communions. The con-sultation continues to meet on a biannual, basis and is now in its second decade of life. During those Roman years it became common to have non- Catholic religious present for the assemblies of the USG; on many lev-els, the participation was reciprocal. This was a new venture, largely un-tested, the success of which was by no means guaranteed. To a great ex-tent it was Arrupe's breadth of vision and the warmth of his personality that carried the day. There was an immediacy and directness about him that broke down resistance. In the ecumenical field, he was willing to leave the doctrinal differences to others; it was the faith that was shared which excited him. In the area of religious life, the understanding of the vows, community, and prayer differed little from one denomination to the other. I remember vividly the bonding that quickly developed among the participants of those early years. When discussion centered on the nu-merical difference in the size of the communities, it was often very amus-ing. It was fascinating to see Arrupe, whose religious institute numbered close to 35,000, engaged in intense conversation with an Anglican su- 166 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 perior of some forty religious. Numbers mattered little; it was the mean-ing of the life that counted. Conversation with the World Vatican II's Church in the Modern World fit perfectly with Arrupe's sense of church. While not unmindful of the dangers present in the meet-ing between faith and culture, he remained a strong proponent of incul-turation. A spirit of withdrawal or disengagement from the world, or even worse, a siege mentality, was alien to Arrupe. Nowhere was this more evident than in his dealing with the media. It was during these same Roman years that Donald Campion, S.J., had been named the Jesuit gen-eralate's chief communications officer. Arrupe had long been keenly aware of the necessity for a high-level spokesman and worked to make it possible. Campion was privy to discussion and decision-making at all levels and, therefore, in the best position to deal effectively with the me-dia. Such openness was a quantum leap forward from the spirit of reti-cence, even fear, which was so much a part of religious officialdom. The latter was a spirit well symbolized by the small sliding window at the por-ter's office of the Jesuit generalate and countless other Roman headquar-ters. It was a far cry from an "open door" policy. As press officer for the USG, I enjoyed the same latitude. I was en-couraged to be present for all meetings, even when the most sensitive issues were being discussed. I was free to share the views and activities of the Union with both the secular and religious press. If discretion was called for, I was expected to exercise it, but the prevailing climate was one-of as much openness as possible. This was Arrupe's style, and it proved right more often than not. By the same token, he expected a sense of responsibility from a well-informed media. He was both angered and offended by unfounded specu-lation or an inordinate interest in the sensational or controversial. This was very evident at the time of the 32nd General Congregation, at which he presided. What seemed like a concerted effort to magnify conflicts between the Jesuits and the Vatican caused him no small measure of pain. And yet it never soured him or changed his basically positive out-look. For him the best way to deal with such a situation was through con-tinued efforts at supplying accurate and intelligible information. It was a Church in progress, moving through history, aided and abet-ted by the world around it, that fashioned Arrupe's thinking. If the mes-sage of the Church were to be heard, it would only be through outreach and dialogue. In the important position which he held, he lent the full weight of his office to obtain that goal. The Arrupe Years / 167 The Man of God It is hard to speak of a person's spirituality. In its intensely personal character it remains ultimately untouchable. And yet it becomes trans-parent in a person's life. In having a certain closeness to Arrupe and lis-tening to the views of others who were his peers, I noted certain quali-ties that mirrored a remarkable spirituality. He comes to mind im-mediately as a man of hope and faith-filled action. It is small wonder that he had such close personal ties with Cardinal Edward Pironio, the Argentinian head of the Vatican Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes. There were any number of reasons why relations between the Jesuits and the Vatican department responsible for religious life might well have been strained at that time. But Pironio's sense of hope and his very open and warm personality matched Arrupe's. They became close personal friends. Hindsight has led many people to comment favorably on Rome in the seventies. Religious life was being fashioned by an interesting trio. There were the challenges to religious given by Paul VI, coupled with the positive leadership bf Pironio and Arrupe. It was an exciting decade; for some of us, unforgettable. Arrupe's spirituality was marked by a deep sense of history and tra-dition. He was part of a Church and a religious institute whose patrimony truly humbled him. The picture of Arrupe as a man wed only to the pre-sent and largely indifferent to the values of the past is caricature at best. He knew that new wine required new skins and articulated that vision well. But he linked that vision with a real sense of the importance of con-tinuity. Some examples come quickly to mind. He had a profound es-teem for the insights of his institute's founder, St. Ignatius Loyola. While some argued that many of those insights were time-bound and no longer valid, Arrupe would be the last to be convinced. He said repeatedly that the longer he lived the more he appreciated the spiritual genius of his foun-der. In those years there was considerable discussion about the need for greater democracy in religious life. The question of the appropriateness of electing superiors, rather than appointing them as was the custom in many religious congregations, was very much to the fore. Arrupe re-mained throughout a strong proponent of the appointment method, fixed so strongly in Jesuit tradition. He was never persuaded that democracy produces the best leadership, and many of those who belonged to orders or congregations of a more democratic bent could recognize a certain va-lidity in his position. 161~ / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 His understanding of the vow of obedience was not rigidly tradi-tional; his thinking had been enhanced by contemporary theological in-sight into the Gospel sense of the vow. And yet he was deeply imbued with appreciation for the ascetical value inherent in accepting the deci-sions of those placed in authority. A case in point. When Arrupe com-municated to Robert Drinan, S.J., the decision that the latter would have to relinquish his seatin the U.S. House of Representatives, it was a very difficult moment in the life of both men. But it made a lasting impres-sion on Arrupe. The priority that Drinan gave to his Jesuit calling in ac-cepting that decision was, in Arrupe's mind, as important for the Soci-ety and the Church as anything Drinan might have otherwise accom-plished. It was an example to which he would repeatedly return. In retrospect, however, one would have to say that it was the man's openness that remains so vivid to the present day. He was never threat-ened by new ideas, even if he found them ultimately unacceptable. He could see the value in some elements of a Marxist social analysis, even though he was against its use. He could espouse~the Jesuits' new social ministries and still be a strong believer in the traditional ministry of edu-cation. He was a champion of legitimate pluralism, almost by instinct. While mindful of the importance of magisterial teaching, he wanted theo-logians to have as much freedom as possible in the pursuit of their task. It was his deep-rooted faith that lent him serenity in facing [he contem-porary scene. Not intimidated by the risk of possible failure, he realized that all was ultimately in God's hands. And then there were the trials, known best by those who worked with him closely. A number of those he shared with me. In his later years, the media was asking hard questions. Was Arrupe going to resign? Was he under pressure from the Vatican to do so? Was a dissatisfied segment of the Jesuits pressing for his resignation? Was his relationship with Paul VI as strained as rumored? Were there conflicts with John Paul II? Arrupe was always candid. He respected the media and realized that there was much to be gained through cooperation. But he was disturbed by attempts to exacerbate situations and exaggerate differences. There were certainly very difficult issues which he faced in the latter years of his term of office. He was fully aware that there was a conservative seg-ment of the Society which opposed him. In addition, during the thirty-second General Congregation, his was the task of interpreting the mind of that worldwide assembly to the pope, and vice versa. It was a sensi-tive and often painful task. That he did it so well is a tribute to his con-ciliatory gifts. But he was beset by rumors, which, like a room full of The Arrupe Years / 169 gnats, gave him no peace. That there were differences between the gen-eral congregation and the pope in certain areas, he never denied. Yet his personal relationship with Paul VI was never the question. He was sym-pathetic to the concerns of the pope and realized the weight of his cross. Moreover, he hailed the pope's social teaching as a landmark in the Church's life. But the perception of a wall of conflict between the "black" and "white" pope persisted, even though it was inaccurate. Arrupe was the first to admit that the sentiment among the Jesuits for the direction .taken after the thirty-second Congregation was not unani-mous. He was acutely aware of a vocal conservative opposition. But he saw the implementation of the general congregation's decisions as an obe-dience and there was no turning back. He always stressed the strong sup-port that came from so many quarters, the enthusiasm which the con-gregation's decisions had generated, especially among the young, and the fact that the Holy See had given its approval. But the fact is that the positive is just not that newsworthy, and so he would be inevitably ques-tioned about the "dark side" of any given situation. This always caused a certain measure of dismay, but it was followed by a remarkable resil-ience. In the wake of any setback, there was always his eventual phone call with a new idea or project. Early in the summer of 1981, Arrupe, his trusted vicar and confi-dant Vincent O'Keefe, and I talked at length about a possible article on the burning question of Arrupe's resignation. There was extensive specu-lation in the press, and we were discussing the best way to deal with it. However, it was more than a public question; it was a matter internal to the Jesuits at a time in which any public communication would have been inappropriate. Arrupe looked upon his eventual resignation in a very posi-tive light, as setting an important precedent for the future of the Soci-ety. His thinking was centered on the good of the religious institute to which his own interests were completely subservient. We decided to do nothing at that time. But that evening he assured me that once he was no longer in office and had the freedom to speak more openly, he would do an extensive interview with me and answer the questions that I felt should be addressed. That proved to be our last conversation. Upon his return from a trip to the Philippines some weeks later, he suffered the stroke from which he never recovered. The rest is history. I subsequently left Rome upon completion of my term of office. My occasional return visits were always marked by a brief visit with the man who had affected my life so deeply. Few words were exchanged. It was 170 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 usually a prayer and a blessing; he would then kiss my hand before I left. His sufferings proved to be one of the most powerful messages of his life. As one of his confreres put it: "He led us in life and has offered himself for us in death." His immolation was total. It has been an un-usual life. To have been touched by it is a rare gift. Father Pedro Arrupe was superior general of the Jesuits, 1965-198J~. He died on Tuesday, February 5, 1991, in Rome. Beyond the Liberal Model: Quo Vadis? Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Sister Elizabeth McDonough, O.P., J.C.D,, Canonical Counsel Editor of REVIEW FOR RELIGtOUS and author of Religious in the 1983 Code, writes and consults extensively about consecrated life. She is a canonical consultant and tribunal judge for the Arch-diocese of Washington, where she may be contacted at P.O. Box 29260; Washing-ton, D.C. 20017. For background information on this article, see endnote i. ]t is no secret that active religious life for women in America has experi-enced progressive decline in the quarter century since Vatican II. Evi-dence of the decline is clear and overwhelming, and its effects are felt and observed in the entire Church. When one looks for causes, one real-izes that distinguishing them from the effects is both complicated and deli-cate. Nevertheless, from my experience as a woman religious during the last quarter century and as a canonical consultant for numerous women's communities over the last decade, I have come to the conclusion that many religious have not recognized or have not acknowledged some clear causes and effects of the current decline for what they really are. Effects of progressive decline are there to be seen in the current po-larization within and among women's communities along conservative and liberal ideological lines. The decline is also evident in most com-munities in their relative inability to attract or to keep vocations, as well as in their related inability to maintain significant institutional commit-ments. It is manifest in the near invisibility of women religious in con-temporary apostolic works, as well as in the frequent reluctance of clergy and laity alike to work with women religious in various apostolates. Pro-gressive decline is experienced by religious themselves as the uninten-tionally created and uncomfortably experienced loss of identity follow- 171 Review for Religious, March-April 1991 ing early and rapid postconciliar abandonment of traditional symbols and services, customs and norms. And, to those who are not religious, its ef-fects are all-too-obvious in the polarized, apparently directionless, plu-ralistic potpourri of ministries and attire, lifestyles and mindsets among women religious today. The progressive decline stems in part from the pervasive sociology of liberal individualism in America and in part from the cultural preva-lence of a psychology of selfism. But causes of the decline are also evi-dent in the predominantly social-justice agenda that has been adopted by most women's institutes, as well as in the revisionist versions of vowed life and in the generally antiauthority and often feminist stances currently espoused by not a few active women religious. Again, a major cause of decline can be traced to the reality that, in seeking their roots after the council, many women's institutes dating their foundations to frontier America discovered--but probably did not admit--that they actually had no genuine, unique charism to renew and adapt. The decline can also be traced to the systematic and progressive de-construction or deliberate abandonment of fundamental juridic structures and roles during the postconciliar constitutional revision processes. In most women's institutes, general chapters have now abandoned legisla-tion in favor of direction-setting, with their goals programmed by pre-chapter steering committees and subsequently adopted through member-ship participation in consensus formation that is shaped by outside facil-itators. In most women's institutes, lower-level superiors are now either nonexistent or nonfunctional, while major superiors have abandoned gov-ernment in favor of business management and have surrounded them-selves with middle-level, appointed, administrative personnel whose num-bers have steadily increased over the years in bureaucratic disproportion to the continuing decrease in membership. Functionally, the net effect of juridic deconstruction has been the crea-tion of business-management-style bureaucracies which filter informa-tion upward and decisions downward, from and to members of women's institutes, primarily by means of bulletins, newsletters, special-interest mailings, and occasional phone calls or visits. As a result individual re-ligious deal almost exclusively with middle-level personnel over a long period of time and even in personal and sensitive matters. Many would prefer to describe this reality quite differently by saying that communi-cation (not mere information) is facilitated inward and outward (not up and down) between the empowered membership and the visionary lead-ership in the concentric circles of participative government that have re- Beyond the Liberal Model / 173 placed the hierarchic pyramid of authority. Whatever the terminology, the following experiences are common: (1) Individual members or groups of members can seldom effect change in policies and agendas that are programmed and prepackaged at upper (or inner) levels of the struc-ture; (2) religious are both structurally and functionally more removed from their elected, responsible superiors than previously; and (3) the right of individual religious to personal privacy is, at times, not ade-quately protected. Most women religious would admit that, in the quarter century since Vatican II, the rather short-lived euphoria of the "nun in the world" has been replaced by a long-suffering, quiet frustration at the lurking possi-bility of permanent extinction. While increased relevancy and effective-ness were focal points for altering lifestyles and practices during renewal, many wonder now if women religious in America have ever been more irrelevant and less effective. To be frank, most clergy and laity and male religious have been thinking for quite some time that religious life for women in America is "going nowhere fast," even if few have verbal-ized this publicly. More recently, at least some--if not many--women religious have cautiously begun to acknowledge the same apparent real-ity to themselves and others. A haunting, unresolved question about the entire experience of re-newal is: How did all this ever happen to us? In seeking answers, con-servatives seem tempted to respond: "Surely an enemy has done it!" In kind, liberals seem inclined to say: "I am making all things new!" From the perspective of experience, my response to the question looks to what might be a deeper problem, namely: "All this did not just happen, We did it to ourselves." Indeed, I would suggest that, on the part of women religious, major factors contributing to the current decline have been a certain lack of knowledge of both theology and history, as well as a cer-tain lack of maturity in responding to newly discovered postconciliar re-alities. And, from current experience, I would suggest that an apparent lack of humility in admitting previous mistakes and an apparent lack of honesty regarding present reality or future prospects are probably has-tening the permanent demise of many active institutes of women reli-gious in this country. Lack of Vocations An obvious sign of the progressive decline of women's institutes is the staggering decrease in their membership since Vatican II. In 1965 there were slightly more than 180,000 members in active communities in America, but by 1990 that number had fallen to slightly more than 174 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 100,000-~a decrease of nearly 45%. Simultaneously, since few women have entered while many have been departing at a slow but steady pace, the median age in women's institutes has risen rapidly and is now com-monly sixty-five or higher. Marie Augusta Neal, in her recent book From Nuns to Sisters, sug-gests that the "radical risks" involved in the Church's new mission to the poor may be the prime factor limiting the response of women to a call to religious life. She thus inadvertently trivializes that call--which, on practical and theoretical as well as human and theological levels, has its appeal within risk or without any particular concern about risk. Neal does not seem to recognize that there is---~r ought to be--a substantive difference between a vocation and a career. And, if experience tells us anything in the matter, it tells us that--with rare exception--the single, most compelling human reason why anyone responds positively to a re-ligious vocation is her (or his) direct, personal awareness of religious who are happy together doing something that they perceive as worth-while and who are clearly motivated by and committed to the love of Je-sus Christ. Currently, many not-yet-retired women religious have become increas-ingly absent or invisible in apostolic activities of the local Church. In other words, for the most part they simply are no longer seen. Moreover, many no longer live in community, even when they live in geographic proximity, sometimes even when they exercise the same ministry or work in the same place. In other words, they are no longer seen together except possibly at work. Again, perhaps too few women religious are to-day perceived as being genuinely happy, and perhaps even fewer as be-ing happy together. Further, the current wide diversification of minis-tries seems sometimes to have led to trivial apostolates ~hile simultane-ously rendering institutional apostolic, witness unsustainable. And, though many may reject the suggestion, perhaps love of Jesus Christ is simply not perceived as the underlying or determining factor in the life of many women religious in America. In short, perhaps because the posi-tive image that women religious tend to have of themselves bears little resemblance to the not-so-positive image that others have of them, it may be unrealistic--if not grandiose--to expect vocations to increase in the near or distant future. Pluralism and Polarization An initial cause and increasing consequence of decline in religious life for women is the currently a~knowledged division into conservative and liberal categories both within and among most congregations. Beyond the Liberal Model / 175 In general, conservative-model institutes tend to favor external authorities, institutional endeavors, traditional theologies, and hierarchi-cal structures; liberal-model institutes generally favor inner freedom, in-dividual endeavors, postconciliar theologies, and collaborative struc-tures. Liberal institutes are inclined to accuse conservative ones of at-tracting emotionally immature candidates, while conservative institutes are inclined to accuse liberals of having nothing that attracts. Conservative religious are often summarily categorized as oppressed, unrenewed, and psychologically dependent; liberal religious are just as often summarily categorized as progressive, feminist, and pseudosophis-ticated. Conservatives seem to read history and Scripture in so selective and so polemical a fashion as to render them an inadequate basis for or-dinary discourse. Conversely, liberals seem to read history and Scripture in so simplistic and so revisionist a fashion as to render them insignifi-cant. From my experience, liberals and conservatives alike seem to have worked very diligently at destroying whatever common symbols they had, so that now they possess no common language for constructive com-munication. Each side seems to have been mutually successful in trans-forming both the concept of God and the experience of worship into sources of division. And neither side seems able to lay untainted claim to any "moral high ground," any bridgehead that addresses the ever wid-ening chasm between them. Currently the majority of women's institutes in America express or espouse a liberal model of religious life. However, it is becoming more and more evident that many religious themselves do not ascribe to the tenets or direction of that model, while many religious also have at least some (and sometimes serious) concerns about its functioning and future. As conservatives attempt to build a future by returning to the past and liberals attempt to build a future by rejecting the past, the categories are becoming increasingly distant and distinct. Most religious realize that any previous potential "middle ground" is fast disappearing, thus leav-ing little hope for future cooperation or reconciliation in or among insti-tutes. Mary Jo Leddy in her recent book, Reweaving Religious Life, ac-knowledges that the current liberal model of religious life is not adequate for facilitating and sustaining genuine adaptation and renewal, even though she has previously been both a proponent and facilitator of that model. Leddy suggests that the liberal model of religious life has become "unraveled" and that it should be replaced by a choice for "creative 176 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 disintegration" in favor of even more radical pluralism. She suggests, further, that liberal-model institutes might take as an example of her "reweaving" thesis Teresa of Avila's reform of Carmelite monastic life in the sixteenth century. But Leddy seems not to recognize that her sug-gestion for the future is humanly problematic and that her analogy from the past is historically inaccurate. As regards "creative disintegration" for a more radical pluralism, the current experience of most American women religious is that the de-gree of pluralism already present in their institutes is straining the limits of not just the weave but also the inner fiber of religious life itself, indi-vidually and collectively. In short, Leddy seems unaware that going be-yond present degrees of pluralism in ministries and lifestyles will most likely be more destructive than creative, both in the beginning and in the end. Regarding Teresian reform of Carmelite life, I.eddy does not recog-nize that Teresa's version of "reweaving" was actually a return to ba-sic structures and religious observance from an "unraveling" that oc-curred precisely because fundamental elements of the original charism had been abandoned or abused. In short, she seems oblivious to this his-torical fact: that Teresa accomplished the genuine renewal of Carmelite religious life not through programmed disintegration but rather through a concerted effort by all to embrace its fundamental structures and heri-tage in order to live them and preserve them in a pristine manner. Deconstruction of Structures and Elimination of Distinctions The current deconstructed functioning of general chapters as parti-cipative consensus-formation assemblies in most women's institutes has engendered both a feeling of members' being "empowered" for gov-ernance and a strong sense of "ownership" of chapter decisions. On the other hand, the new style of general chapters also tends to lessen critical assessment of options and to avoid substantive decisions that distinguish delegates from participants. Simultaneously, such chapters commonly en-act global, carefully crafted, blandly diluted statements whose content can hardly be opposed in theory and can scarcely be assessed in implemen-tation. Currently some women's institutes have so little sense of their own identity and of the role of chapters that they involve nonmembers extensively in chapter proceedings, and some have even suggested that nonmembers may be elected to governance roles. The distinction between major superiors and councils, as well as dif-ferentiation of their roles, has also undergone postconciliar deconstruc-tion. With the advent of collaborative decision-making, major superiors Beyond the Liberal Model / 177 and councils are commonly referred to as leadership teams: their mem-bers share equally the governance/management of the religious institute and are functionally distinguished, if at all, only at the infrequent mo-ments of final decision.,required by law. In relation to actual decision-making, in most institutes there has been a concomitant radical limita-tion or complete elimination of instances in which a supreme moderator or major superior can act without the consent of the council. Most of these alterations seem related to questioning the possession of personal authority by superiors, combined with an all too real (and often all too painful) remembrance of abuse of authority by superiors in the past. The deconstruction of juridic structures and the blurring of gov-ernmental functions apparently meet a need to limit the authority of su-periors through "leadership" language and apparently also reinforce the new participative consensus-niodel chapters in a stance of visibly and ver-bally rejecting whatever has been perceived as hierarchic or patriarchal. Overall, however, the new bureaucratic, business-management model of governance operated by middle-level appointees and committees seems to have produced no overwhelmingly positive verifiable results other than the fact that many members feel very good about it. In other words, it does appear that most people like the feeling of having a part in run-ning the business even if business is not getting any better. Obedience and Mission Closely related to juridic deconstruction and elimination of distinc-tions are postconciliar views espousing dialogical obedience and justice-oriented missions. The seed for a dialogical understanding of obedience was firmly planted by the affirmations of Perfectae Caritatis 14 that superiors should foster an active and responsible obedience in addition to listen-ing to and promoting cooperation among the members of the institute. But after twenty-five years that seed has produced, in many religious in-stitutes of women, a strong undergrowth of resistance to any exercise of personal authority by any superiors. As a result, some prevalent revision-ist versions of vowed obedience consider it to be so personal and dialo-gical that it apparently can never involve a decision made by someone else which must be obeyed. In this framework, attributing final decision-making power to a superior is simply rejected as representing an archaic, unjust sacralization of hierarchic notions about authority, commitment, and obligations, all of which are now considered as negotiable. Action on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world were affirmed by the 1971 Synod of Bishops as "constitutive 171~ / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 dimension[s] of preaching the Gospel" and "of the Church's mission for redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppres-sive situation." And these affirmations quickly became a mandate for religious to work with new or renewed vigor in justice-and-peace endeav-ors throughout the world. However, many religious who recognize action on behalf of justice as a constitutive element of the Gospel appear to have fallen into the er-ror of thinking that action on behalf of justice is also exhaustive of it. There is ample indication that some religious erroneously assess the Church's mission as only or primarily one of unbridled activity in the marketplaces of contemporary society. They frequently quote as a source the document Religious and Human Promotion, but one seldom hears any mention of the document on The Contemplative Dimension of Re-ligious Life. In addition, a selective reading of conciliar texts and post-conciliar documents seems to have created for some religious an urgent mandate for political action and systemic change to the exclusion or ne-glect of any other manner of transforming the world or of preaching the Gospel. In connection with contemporary views of authority and obedi-ence, the mandate for systemic change of oppressive structures seems to be directed increasingly to the internal structures of the Church and of one's own religious institute rather than to the wider world. The social-justice orientation in the revised constitutions of most in-stitutes is primarily the result of an ongoing series of sociological sur-veys initiated in 1965 by the Leadership Conference of Women Relig-ious to provide an information base for resources on renewal. The sur-veys were formulated, distributed, interpreted, and implemented by Marie Augusta Neal, who has written numerous articles and books in the last two decades in order to explain, expound, expand, and defend her work. In her writings Neal admits that the entire purpose of the research surveys had a social-justice orientation. She also acknowledges that con-troversy over the surveys contributed directly to splintering of the (then) Conference of Major Superiors of Women in the early 1970s. And she herself states that the pre- and post-Vatic~in II belief scale contained in the "Sisters' Survey" involving 139,000 women religious in the mid- 1960s "became the most controversial and most discriminating variable, which accounted for the pace and direction of changes in structures of the religious congregations involved in the study."2 Yet Neal has con-sistently defended the soundness of her survey instrument as well as the accuracy of her interpretations, and has increasingly extended her find- Beyond the Liberal Model / 17'9 ings beyond the realm of sociology. Critics of Neal's work point to survey questions formulated in quali-tative language, to information reported in questionable categories, and to Neal's apparently subjective interpretations expressed in her follow-up. memos as being especially problematic. The surveys engendered even more controversy as findings originally proposed as an information base on resources for renewal began to function instead as LCWR's single, central source for pursuing social-justice agendas, for questioning eccle-siastical authority, and for picking up the the pace of renewal. Indeed, the quarter-century survey project that coincided with the postconciliar constitutional revision in women's institutes may arguably be the single most significant factor that can account for the systematic and progres-sive deconstruction evident among so many institutes of women religious today. Abandonment of Common Symbols and Practices Regardless of whether one recognizes or acknowledges an underly-ing internal juridic deconstruction in religious institutes of women, the visible, gradual, and progressive alteration of attire for women religious since Vatican II cannot be denied. The transition in habits has been a pain-ful and emotionally charged issue and is a prime example of the whole-sale abandonment of symbols and symbol systems by women religious since the council. No one is at liberty to argue about whether or not the external identity symbol of the habit has been fundamentally abandoned by numerous women religious, and most agree that whatever has hap-pened is irreversible. Moreover, the "habit issue" represents a nexus of sociological, psychological, behavioral, historical, and theological fac-tors that relate directly to the progressive decline of religious life in Amer-ica. Transformation in the attire of women religious from outdated and unhealthy medieval costumes, to makeshift modified habits, to bought and borrowed secular clothes, to contemporary business suits with com-munity logos, to the stylish garb of modern professionals is reflected in and among women's institutes today. The visible choice of attire, though not completely indicative ofa conservative or liberal model as such, is a somewhat reliable sign of the institute's (and person's) location and di-rection on the spectrum of post-Vatican II transition. The attire worn by the major superior and council of an institute tends to indicate both whether attire choices are possible within the institute and what the most progressive of possible choices might be. These indications, along with when the attire choices became operative, rather accurately reflect 1~10 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 whether the institute operates primarily from a liberal or conservative model (or somewhere in between) and tend to show a transition towards the liberal model. Be that as it may, my reason for discussing the choice of attire is that it is never the only issue being addressed. The attire issue also places in sharp relief a functional distinction between institutes of men and of women. That is, for members of nonmonastic institutes of men, the habit--if they had one--was traditionally a significant form of clothing occasionally donned for community and liturgical exercises or for pro-fessional and pastoral services. In .contrast, for all institutes of women-- with rare exception--the habit was traditionally their primary identifi-cation symbol and was also often the only clothes they had to wear. Ad-ditionally, the habit issue highlights a significant difference in response to legal norms on the part of men and of women, namely: The 1917 code required that habits be worn by all members of all institutes at all times, both inside and outside the religious house; women consistently did what the law said, while men rather consistently did not. Thus, ~the almost vis-ceral reaction (of some) to the matter of the habit should not be surpris-ing. More fundamentally, however, numerous other unifying and mean-ingful symbols and practices disappeared along with the habit in religious institutes of women after Vatican II. Common meals and lodging, com-mon prayers and songs, common recreation and study, as well as com-mon moments of joy and suffering, were generally minimized, mildly disdained, or summarily abandoned in a veritable onslaught of Ameri-can, postconciliar, egalitarian, pluralistic individualism and activism. Some would suggest that in this process women religious have become less oppressed, more mature and free for service. Many others would sug-gest, in contrast, that the primary result of abandoning symbol systems and common practices has been a pervasive and overwhelming experi-ence of inner emptiness and outer loneliness made more acute by recog-nition that there simply is no longer any "common glue" to hold insti-tutes of women religious together at simple, fundamental, indispensable levels of human relationship. Transformations in Community Life and Ministry Additional consequences Of postconciliar deconstruction in women's institutes concern: (1) how members live together and relate to one an-other, or--in other words--the change in what was formerly referred to as common life or community; and (2) how members happen to arrive in a particular place doing a particular job, or--in other words--the Beyond the Liberal Model / 1~11 change in what was formerly referred to as receiving an assignment or being missioned. Without detailing here the canonical requirements for common life and its broad and strict interpretation, it was obviously common prac-tice in.the past for religious to live with other members of their commu-nity in the same residence with at least relatively equal access to food, clothing, shelter, and furnishings. Exceptions to common life were al-ways possible and sometimes actual but generally remained just that: ex-ceptions. Since the council, however, more religious now live "outside a house" of the institute for extended periods of time and for a variety of reasons, including apostolate, health, and study. Moreover, it is cur-rently common for a woman religious to live outside a house of her in-stitute either (1) because she cannot find a house in which she is collec-tively "accepted" by sisters already in the house according to their es-tablished expectations of community, or (2) because the sister herself can-not find a house in which she feels she can live comfortably and con-structively according to her already established expectations. Since Vatican II, members of religious institutes have been forced to deal regularly with high degrees of constant uncertainty, and simulta-neously they have had great demands for intense interpersonal relating placed on them. Religious institutes and individual women religious have devoted varying amounts of time, energy, and resources to bemoaning or extolling postconciliar relational developments and demands. And at present many institutes and their members are so caught up in personal relational issues and self-help programs as to convey the impression that, if only every sister would study her Myers-Briggs profile and identify the consequences of her Enneagram number and join the appropriate recov-ery or codependency program, then community life would irreversibly begin to get out of the present morass of personal malaise and interper-sonal dysfunctionality. Meanwhile, however, most members of liberal-model institutes no longer live in community, but merely relate to it functionally. It is usu-ally easier for major superiors to allow members to live outside a house of the institute than to deal constructively with problems in houses of the institute. Those members who continue to live in community seem, in most institutes, to have circumstantially or preferentially sorted them-selves into relatively permanent subgroups by age differentiation or work relations or ideological orientations or dyad/triad dependencies. And quite a few women religious depend regularly--and sometimes exten-sively--- on professional colleagues or family members for ongoing per- 1~12 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 sonal support and meaningful human interaction rather than on their re-ligious community. Related to changes in community living is the alteration since Vati-can II of how most women religious arrive in a particular place doing a particular job. A process of "open placement" now predominates, which usually means that the religious works with the institute's person-nel director or board in following previously established community cri-teria for seeking apostolic involvement or other gainful employment. Fre-quently in this system contracts are negotiated between the sister and the employer and are then submitted to the personnel director or board for review and informal approval. Eventually, finalized arrangements are rati-fied by the competent major superior, and the sister is missioned or as-signed to her new apostolate or job with, if possible, some form of rit-ual solemnization of the process. Some provision for housing is neces-sarily connected to the missioning, but living in community is not usu-ally a priority among the criteria for seeking employment, and so excep-tions to common life proliferate. The Sociology of Liberal Individualism Recently Robert Bellah and several other sociologists published a re-vealing analysis of the phenomenon and failure of liberal individualism in America, entitled Habits of the Heart. Among other things, this analy-sis suggests that American culture reflects a radically liberal society of psychologically sophisticated but morally impoverished individuals who demonstrate a "narcissism of similarity" by associating in "lifestyle enclaves." These enclaves are composed of the like-minded who share comparable desires for leisure, recreation, and consumer goods and who, by their self-chosen values, have been freed from traditional ethnic and religious boundaries while simultaneously justifying their own prefer-ences. Further, Bellah and his colleagues suggest that, in American so-ciety, people's felt need for personal fulfillment---ever elusive--has re-sulted in their substituting short-term "therapeutic relationships" be-tween "self-actualized" individuals for the genuine, creative relation-ship of love. This, in turn, has resulted in replacing obligation and com-mitment with a new "virtue": open and honest communication in which everything at all times is considered negotiable except the individual's self-chosen objectified values. The study suggests, further, that American society lacks the identity which should have or could have emerged from the ordered freedom of practical rituals and moral structures which it has abandoned. Moreover, it seems unable to return to the "constitutive narrative" of its tradition, Beyond the Liberal Model because that would be perceived as opting for once-jettisoned oppressive structures. Consequently, the lonely, self-actualized, rugged individuals of the late, great American Empire--still not comprehending what it is that might assuage their longings--have taken collective refuge in a cor-porate bureaucracy of professional managers, therapists, and other ex-perts whose task it is to foster administrative centralization, to facilitate reciprocal tolerance, and to "empower" all citizens for institutional par-ticipation and creative innovation. The problem is, however, according to Bellah and his colleagues: It simply has not worked, and the seriously ill "social ecology" of American culture is very much in danger of per-manent demise. There are striking similarities between this sociological analysis of American culture and the current liberal model of active religious life for women. Tradition has been abandoned, and the past is perceived as op-pressive. Institutes have become business corporations, and governance has become collaborative administration. Structures have become parti-cipative, and superiors are now primarily managers. Formation person-nel and spiritual directors now function primarily as therapists. Facilita-tors are experts for achieving consensus formation, as well as catalysts for creative innovation. All members are becoming empowered for de-cision- making, although not many members claim responsibility for any particular decision. Obedience is increasingly negotiable, and personal fulfillment dominates most choices. Communities have become lifestyle enclaves composed of occasionally present, like-minded individuals. Eve-ryone is now somehow accountable, but few (if any) religious are called to accountability by anyone for anything. Communication is the cardi-nal virtue, and everyone is progressing towards greater self-actualization. The problem is, of course: It all simply does not work. American women religious today still seem not to have discovered what it is that might as-suage their longings, and the seriously ill social ecology of their lives is very much in danger of p~rmanent demise. The Psychology of Selfism Directly related to the sociological phenomena that seem to parallel the deconstruction of religious life is the psychological phenomenon that contemporary American culture, according to Bellah, is basically impov-erished by an insatiable preoccupation with self. In most cultures reli-gion is considered a primary source for character formation and for the development of social mores. However, in the psychology of selfism which seems to permeate American culture, the primary reality is the self that one's own unique choices have created. The isolated, self-created 1 ~14 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 individual then commits himself or herself to self-defined and self-defining decisions. In this ambiance, personality development and be-havior modification replace the character formation and the social mo-res that are ordinarily provided by traditional religion, because preex-isting principles for character or mores are perceived as either non-existent or unimportant. For selfism in America, the psychological myth of the intrinsically good Utopian self parallels and supports the social and political myths of the intrinsically perfect Utopian state, while the psychological ten-dency to self-indulgence both rationalizes and celebrates the consumer society. When the interior fiber for duty, patience, suffering, and self-sacrifice is absent or wanting in the individual, the psychology of selfism conveniently shifts a locus of responsibility for the vacuum or the defi-ciency to the failures and foibles of parents, siblings, associates, and cir-cumstances. Selfism also legitimizes and perpetuates the late-adolescent attitudes of routine rebellion, rejection of authority, and preoccupation with sex. In short, it appears to be a ready-made, perfect internal sup-port for the sociology of American liberal individualism. Obviously, in relation to religious life, the once-hidden issues of psy-chological development and emotional maturity have been a rather pub-lic part of the transition in institutes of women (and of men) since Vati-can II. It may be that women religious really were not emotionally well-prepared for so many drastic, rapid-fire changes in their lives and, fur-ther, that they have not handled them all that well in the long run. To be sure, the recent deluge of books, articles, programs, and apparent pana-ceas produced by religious and for religious on topics of maturity related to religious is overwhelming. Patently, the popularity of this genre among women religious is not indicative of merely occasional light read-ing for the already self-actualized and emotionally mature. Thus, it seems reasonable to suggest that American women religious might be suf-fering not only from the effects of American liberal individualism but also from some lack of maturity as a consequence of its underlying psy-chology of selfism. Absence of Charism Genuine charisms for consecrated lifeforms are windows on the Gos-pel that provide a vision So clear that founders and foundresses --and then their companions--seem compelled to "do likewise" and follow Jesus. Or, again, charisms might be described as good seeds growing in fertile ground in a particular time and place and having the capacity to Beyond the Liberal Model multiply and bear fruit and also to be transplanted successfully to other ages and other cultures. True charisms of religious life are founded on sound but supple structures, are surrounded by long-standing and forma-tive customs, are nourished by deep-rooted and healthy spirituality, are manifest in valuable and long-term ecclesial service, and are--most es-pecially-~ expressions of a meaningful and compelling way of following Jesus. Charisms are not constituted merely by being a particular-apos-tolic expression of a particular corporal or spiritual work of mercy, how-ever necessary and valuable such endeavors may be; nor can charisms be humanly built by "refounding" or personally manufactured by "reweaving." They are gifts received, embraced, and lived--with re-ceptive and responsive elements indispensable to their basic rea~].ty---or they are not true charisms at all. Unfortunately, when active institutes of women religious went in search of their roots in the mandated renewal subsequent to Vatican II, most were confronted with the absence of a genuine, unique charism. And most women's institutes apparently either could not or would not recognize that absence for what it really meant, namely: They actually had no sound structures, no formative customs, no deep-rooted spiritu-ality, no long-term ecclesial service, no meaningful and compelling way of life they could call their own. In short, they had no genuine spiritual patrimony or religious heritage to which they could return and from which they could move into the future. The absence of a genuine, unique charism in most women's:institutes explains in part why intercommunity living and common novitiates have been so readily initiated and so successful. One cannot imagine, for ex-ample, Jesuit men and Dominican men opting for total intercommunity living situations and sharing totally common novitiates as if there were no deep and visible, distinctly different elements in their charisms. Yet many women religious whose institutes claim unique charisms share com-munity living and novitiates on a regular basis and consider it a wonder-ful sign of progress in collaboration. Lack of charism in many :women's institutes also explains in part why they have been so readily eclectic in the process of spiritual renewal and why most supposedly pristine house-of- prayer movements have been so short-lived and superficial .3 Further, lack of charism explains in part why it has been so difficult for these in-stitutes to adapt and renew successfully in the postconciliar era. Indeed, the provinces of some men's institutes are actually more distinct in ex-pressions of their charism than are many independent institutes of women who attempted after the council to rewrite constitutions and fashion mis- 116 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 sion statements unique to them on the basis of their supposedly unique charisms. Though the fault for lack of charism was not theirs, the consequences for these institutes have been nearly fatal. Most--but not all--active in-stitutes of women religious founded in, or transferred to, this country in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries were either New World adapta-tions of ancient and medieval monastic communities, such as the Bene-dictines and the Dominicans, or groups of dedicated pioneer women re-sponding generously to the practical needs of an immigrant Church in frontier America. Some, such as the Ursulines and the Daughters of Char-ity, had never been allowed to embrace or live the authentic, original ex-pression of their charism, which is now recognized as the forerunner to the consecrated lifeform of secular institutes. All active women's insti-tutes in frontier America were forced by circumstance or mandate to adopt a semimonastic, conventual style of religious life whether or not this was appropriate to their current function or past experience. Struc-tures, as well as theology and spirituality and apostolate and customs, are integral to the authentic expression of a genuine, unique charism. Thus it is not surprising that progressive deconstruction in women's in-stitutes has been so rapid and so complete for those institutes which, when seeking their roots, found only a monastic heritage adapted to the structures of conventual religious life or found no heritage that ever re-ally fit into the structures of conventual religious life in the first place. Possibilities for the Future Suggestions have been made that, in order to survive, women reli-gious should respond more fully to the risks of opting for the poor, or expand their pluralistic polarization even further, or revitalize for the sake of mission, or manage systemic change more constructively, or com-bine judiciously with other institutes of similar heritage. But no degree of social-justice activity, no amount of pluralism, no programmed revitalization, no constructively managed change, and no combined mem-bership will supply for the absence of a charism, which simply cannot be summarily manufactured and without which no institute has any fu-ture. It is possible, however, that active institutes of women religious in America can consciously decide about their future in honest relationship to their past. Some may feel they have actually been successfully grafted into an ancient or medieval charism expressed in conventual form and may wish to continue that expression of religious life. Some may find Beyond the Liberal Model it more realistic to return to what was originally intended by the founder/ foundress even if that choice would place them today in a different ju-ridic category of consecrated lifeform, such as secular institutes. Others may find it more realistic for members to form totally different commu-nities in accord with the prevalent spectrum of conservative and tradi-tional ideologies among their membership. Still others may decide quite honestly that their time of existence and service in and through the Church is actually past and that their greatest present witness might be to go out of existence with dignity and grace. From my experience, those in positions of authority in many women's institutes either do not recognize or simply will not admit the above possibilities, just as they either do not recognize or will not admit that the present course of supposed renewal is toward eventual demise. And, from my experience, the members of most women's institutes either are unaware of what is actually happening or, being aware, sim-ply wish to stay the course because it appears or feels advantageous to them at the moment. In either case, the result is that members tend to choose for leadership only those persons who will perpetuate the status quo, which in turn continues the present direction of programmed decon-struction. Unfortunately, most women's institutes seem deaf to suggestions that current, supposedly great refounding trends are futile, not only because they are based primarily on product-oriented business-management mod-els, but also because there is--in most cases--actually nothing to re-found. Though most seem enthralled by distant visions of supposedly "new forms" of religious life, they seem not to see before their eyes the current practical drift of religious life in America to the practices and lifestyle of the already well-established category of secular institutes. Io fact, opting for secular-institute status might be a more honest way for some institutes to become what they were originally and are meant to be than is their present path of deconstruction under the ~uise of creating "new forms" of religious life. Finally, many women's institutes seem heartened by prospects of increased membership through mergers and un-ions as a recipe for survival. Although combining institutes may be a ju-dicious course of action in view of practical needs, those who look to this for survival should reread carefully the story of Gideon: There is no safety in numbers if you are not doing God's will in God's way; and if you are, numbers really do not matter very much at all. Although, from my experience, most active institutes of women re-ligious in America simply do not have the slightest idea where they are 1111~ / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 going or why, there are many members of many institutes who do want to go somewhere with meaning. While not wishing to return to the past, they also do not wish to abandon it, and they still hope for a future of renewed religious life somehow rooted in it. Unfortunately, current modes of participative consensus-model governance not only edit out such voices but also make it nearly impossible to know about or be in constructive contact with those who have similar desires. Perhaps, then, some hope for the future also can be found in more grassroots, intra- and inter-congregational communication by those who are both weary and wary of the present programmed deconstruction they experience. All that is really necessary for continuation in the present path of increased po-larization and progressive decline to the point of extinction is that enough women religious continue to say or do nothing about it. NOTES i The substantive content of this article is taken from a book chapter of the same ti-tle and is used with permission of the editors. See lus Sequitur Vitam: To Pier Huiz-ing in Recognition of a Life Dedicated to a Living Law in the Church, edited by James Provost and Knut Wall and scheduled for publicatiofl by Peeters of Leuven i.n February 1991. The book chapter is much longer, has a definitely canonical ori-entation, and contains numerous, lengthy, substantive footnotes. 2 See Marie Augusta Neal, From Nuns to Sisters: An Expanding Vocation (Mystic, Conn.:Twenty-Third'Publications, 1990), for her positions in general and pp. 126- 127, n. 9, for this quotation. More detailed comments on the survey are contained in the book chapter cited above, especially at footnotes 12 and 29-34. 3 See J.M.R. Tillard, "Vingt ans de grace?" in Vie Consacr~e 58 (1986): 323- 340. The S.P.E.A.K. Model: An Approach to Continuing Formation Mary Mortz, D.M.J. Sister Mary Mortz, D.M.J., serves as a provincial councilor for her province of the Daughters of Mary and Joseph. With her degree in rehabilitation and religious stud-ies, she teaches mentally and emotionally disturbed children. Her address is 419 East Lancaster Boulevard; Lancaster, California 93535. Continuing formation means that the work of God has begun, and we con-tinue to cooperate with his work in and through us. Many of our consti-tutions state that each of us as a perpetually professed religious is respon-sible for our own continuing formation, though we are accountable to com-munity leadership. We have workshop opportunities extended to us, but there still seems to be a void in terms of specific steps to take to know that we are really growing as much as the Lord is calling us to grow. Many articles written for us today in religious journals seem to re-flect a growing need for focus in this area of continuing formation. They address issues of the compulsions and codependency in our society and in our religious lives. These issues are influencing us spiritually, emo-tionally, relationally, physically, and in our ministry. Many of these ar-ticles conclude with the suggestion that the reader investigate the 12- step programs such as Alcoholics Anonymous. The S.P.E.A.K. model begins where these articles conclude, Many religious men and women are finding the 12-step journey to be a power-ful resource. This model comes from reflecting upon the experiences which many have shared with me--priests, religious men and women, and lay persons. It is a summary of what we have found to be helpful for us. It is offered as a resource tool for anyone looking for more spe-cific help in this deepening journey of spirituality and ministry. 189 190 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 Summary of the Model There are three parts which serve as the basis for the S.P.E.A.K. model. First, the 12 steps are used as concrete steps or tools for continu-ing growth. Second, it is holistic. It includes the aspects of our lives as people who are Spiritual, Physical, Emotional, Apostolic, and relational (Koinonia). Third, each person selects a formation companion. The reason for basing the model upon the 12 steps is that they have proved to be very effective for thousands of people as a tool for us to use to evaluate our level of trust in God, to examine our lives, to make changes when we see we need to do so, to maintain an abiding attitude of balance and prayer in our lives and in our ministry and relationships with others. As we look at these 12 steps taken as a group, it is very apparent that we are returning to all that has been best for us in our previous routines of the spiritual life: regular daily examen, confession and extraordinary confession, retreats, daily spiritual reading, prayer, community sharing of our growth with each other, and profound dedication to sharing the Good News with a troubled world. The reason for basing the model upon a holistic view is that it is very easy for us to allow one or two areas of life to receive our attention. The challenge of life is to live in such a wholesomely balanced way that we proclaim Jesus, his Spirit~-and his Father's love by being the wonder-fully created person we are called to be spiritually, physically, emotion-ally, relationally, and in our ministry. The reason for basing the model upon having a formation compan-ion is twofold. It is a privileged thing to have someone who loves us un-. conditionally, even when we let the other person really know us. This frees us to grow even more. Secondly, it helps us to become very, very honest with ourselves and with our God when we agree to share what is happening in our lives at a deep and personal level with at least one other human being. This facilitates an attitude of openness and honesty which is an essential prerequisite of continuing formation. The Twelve Steps It is important to remember that even though one of the areas of the S.P.E.A.K. model is the spiritual, all the areas of our life are permeated by the principles of the spiritual journey. We keep taking these steps over and over in all areas of life, and new insights become revealed to us. Per-haps it is no coincidence that there were 12 tribes, 12 apostles, and now the foundation of 12 steps! Sometimes it is said that a coincidence is a miracle when God chooses to be anonymous. The S.P.E.A.K. Model / "191 Orginally there were six steps as part of a spiritual movement called the Oxford movement, but those using these steps in A.A. realized they needed a little more guidance and expanded them to 12. The basic sense of these 12 steps can be divided into three groups. In steps 1-3 we come to a profound sense of what it means to really trust God. In steps 4-11, we clean our house, and continue to keep it clean. In step 12 we work to practice these principles in all our affairs, all as-pects of our lives. It can be a temptation for us to approach the steps rationally, to ana-lyze why they work. This is not the issue for those using the S.P.E.A.K. model. The issue is to walk these steps personally, humbly with heart, gut, and head. An analogy might be that we can read inspirational arti-cles about exercise and walking until the cows come home, but if we do not put one foot in front of the other and go walking, we cannot go very far or get in very good shape. Step One. We admitted we were powerless over life's conditions, that our lives had become unmanageable. (In the A.A. literature, this step reads, "We admitted we were powerless over alcohol--that our lives had become unmanageable." This is the only step that is changed in the S.P.E.A.K. model.) Even though other steps may seem to be more threatening in the be-ginning, it seems that the hardest step for us to take is step one. This is also the first be-attitude (Beatitude). The journey begins when we can finally be at a point in our lives where we are ready to surrender, to let go, to realize that there is something in our lives over which we have no control. Then we are ready to let God in to take over, to begin again in a new and deeper way this thing called his continuing formation. Our "something," our life condition, may be other people who are in our lives, some part of work, our relationships, our predominant com-pulsions, our health, our behavior, our self-perceptions, our resentments, fears, anxiety, our sin, our habits, our way of being "off the mark." There are many resources available to help us see our personal pow-erlessness. Some of these ways are: meditation using available schools of spirituality, or we might just sit, as in Zen guided ways, or use ap-proaches to centering prayer. We might pursue the insight into our par-ticular compulsions through the study of the Enneagram. We also might just listen to our own lives if we are having pain. Pain is a wonderful catalyst to growth! If we really want to take this step honestly, it is much easier if we share our "muddling through it" with another person. Whatever means Review for Religious, March-April 1991 we use, it is important to know that this S.P.E.A.K. model is not possi-ble until we take step one. Step Two. "Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity." Sanity means wholeness. It means balance. Once we find ourselves in real need of change, our challenge is to allow ourselves to "come to," to wake up as if from the slumber or self-delusion we were in. The only assent required at this step is to believe that we are not the center of our universe, that there is a power greater than ourselves, that we are loved, and that we can become powerfully renewed. Ephesians 4:22-24 is one of many texts which comes to mind at this step. You must give up your old way of life; you must put aside your old self, which gets corrupted by following illusory desires. Your mind must be renewed by a spiritual revolution so that you can put on the new self that has been created in God's way, in the goodness and holiness of truth. Step Three. "Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him." This step leads us to accept God's power in our lives. In step two we may want the revolution to happen. We might believe it possible, but it is in step three that we make a specific decision to let go and to let God take over. Revolution means change, and that is what we give consent to in step three without controlling any part of it. When we speak of such trust, we are using our own words, our own sense of who, at this time, God is for me. We make a prayer of this step and share it with another hu-man being. These steps are not done in the dark, but we bring them to the light and speak them to another. Step Four. "Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of our-selves.". We all have instincts. Most fall into the areas of social instincts, secu-rity instincts, and sexual instincts. Again it seems no coincidence that our vows are in the areas of obedience, poverty, and chastity. In this step, we accept to look at our lives as the beginning of a lifetime prac-tice. We look in a searching way at fears, resentments, harms, and hurts we have done, and which have been done to us. We name the instincts which are threatened, and our responses to them. We come to see our not-so-good patterns, our character defects, and our gifts, our assets as well. We see how we have been growing, and how we have yet to grow. The word, "fearless" is very important~ If we find ourselves resist-ing this inventory, then there is nothing wrong with staying at steps one, The S.P.E.A.K. Model / 193 two, or three. When we have become tired of life's condition, when we can believe that we can change, when we have really taken step three, then step four will follow comfortably without fear. Step Five. "Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human be-ing the exact nature of our wrongs." In this step we invite another human being to be with us as we say out loud what we have learned in step four. There are many ways to do this, but as we come to name our patterns, our ways of responding, we gain insights, especially if the other person has taken this step, and truly loves us. To bring awareness before God is one thing, and it is beauti-ful. To bring awareness before God and another human being, to share it, to own it in the light is both beautiful and a blessing. This step helps us to stop isolating, to experience many profound les-sons in humility, to experience a whole new sense of kinship, of one-ness with others and with God. This kinship opens us to a connected-ness with whole new insights into the human condition, our place in the world, and a God consciousness which becomes a personal experience. Step Six. "Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character. ' ' After the insights are gained in step five, more action is required. We do not only gain insight on this spiritual journey, but we use the in-sights. We made a decision in step three to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him; now in this step we real-ize that we are still very resistant people. We have worked hard to de-velop the defects we have. We wonder, "Who am I if I let go of them?" We even let ourselves chuckle at how we are as self-centered little chil-dren, and pray to get ready to let go of those defects of our character which we have learned about. Sometimes we say, "Of course I want them taken away," and this step is easy, but if that is not our experience at any given time, we accept to admit this is the step we are taking. Step Seven. "Humbly asked him tO remove our shortcomings." When we feel we are in charge, we try to use willpower, or positive imaging instead of taking this step. This step calls for us again to admit our powerlessness, our need for God. It is ego puncturing because we admit we cannot do this of ourselves. As St. Paul says. "I do the things I do not want to do." This step frees us from the trap of pride and fear. Little by little after we take this step, we find ourselves thinking differ-ently, feeling differently, r.esponding differently. People and situations around us change, if we have prayed our own seventh step prayer out loud with another human being. 194 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 Step Eight. "Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became will-ing to make amends to them all." In religious life many of us were trained to forgive., forgive. forgive. This is essential; however, the eighth step helps us to focus on the resentments, the fears, the harms, and the hurts of our lives by paying attention to our responses. We can forgive and fester externally or internally for a long, long time! As we shared our fifth step, we became aware of ways in which our responses might have "needed improvement," or perhaps we were out-and- out vindictive. This step is best taken with another person to help us be thorough, to help ourselves not to hide, to isolate, or to be too hard on ourselves. Again, if this becomes fearful, perhaps there is a need to look at how badly we want this growth, the quality of our surrender and trust, and the reality of our seventh step. But we can also remember we are only making a list in this step. Step Nine. "Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, ex-cept when to do so would injure them or others." This step is also best discerned with another person, both to keep us honest as well as to help us figure out the best way to go about this ac-tion. Sometimes a person has died. Sometimes the person has moved, or we moved away. A letter might be enough, or we might need to wait to see her or him again. Sometimes it is best to let it go, and our forma-tion companion can help us decide when this is really true. Regardless, the freedom which comes inside us as we become ready to take responsibility for the consequences of our behavior is very exhilarating. Step Ten. "Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it." In order for the spiritual revolution to continue, we need to remain ready. Step ten is really a daily, weekly, monthly, and annual review of steps two through nine. There are many ways and resources available to us to use in this step. One way is to allow our dreams to happen, to write them down, to "mull over" their meaning with our formation compan-ion. Another is to be faithful to writing in a notebook of some sort a mini-fourth step, a summary of the good and the not-so-good of the day, to share it, then to do steps six through nine with what we learn. The more we do this, the easier and more comfortable it becomes. Step Eleven. "Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our con-scious contact with God as we understood him, praying only for knowl-edge of his will for us and the power to carry that out." The S.P.E.A.K. Model I 195 As we do the preliminary steps and work this step, we find that every-thing else is also "falling into place." We work this step as humble, empty vessels who know our need for God. We accept to be still, to lis-ten, to receive. Just as we could use the many resources available to us in the Church to take step one, we can also draw upon these resources to help us deepen in step eleven. There are three centers out of which we operate--the gut, the head, and the heart. Our predominant sin is located in there somewhere, and so is our growth. Perhaps centering prayer, the prayer of nothingness, is our vehicle. Perhaps more head-centered meditation on Scripture and spiritual teach-ings is our vehicle. Perhaps contemplation of images and affective re-sponse to them serve as our vehicle. Perhaps being with nature, or litur-gical celebrations, or devotions become our vehicles. The important thing is that we be as we are called to be. We have learned in these steps to let go and let God. If we share how we feel with our formation com-panion, this step becomes a profound and nourishing experience. In this step an awakening happens which leads us to hunger after holi-ness (wholeness) in all areas of our life. Our emotions become balanced. Our bodies seek proper rest, work and play rhythms, food and drink. We hunger for a sharing of peace and reconciliation in our relationships and in the world. We find ourselves led deeply to the roots of our religious lives, to a sense of meaning of sacrament and church, of our community's charism, and we become ready to witness this new sense in our relation-ships and in our ministry. Step Twelve. "Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to others, and to practice these prin-ciples in all our affairs." We have received a free gift. We can work to keep it alive, but if we hold on to it exclusively, it becomes stagnant. That is the nature of the spiritual journey. As a result of these steps, we have known a spiri-tual awakening. We have known love, a God and Gospel consciousness at a personal level. The irony of this love is that we must let it go if we are to hold on to it. Anything we used to hold on to is constantly chal-lenged by the gift of our new God-relationship. We find ourselves driven to live right attitudes--to develop God attitudes, the be-attitudes, to do his Way in all of our life. Select a Formation Companion We have a long-standing precedent for having a spiritual compan- Review for Religious, March-April 1991 ion within the Church as well as within many of the Oriental religions. However, even though we have been encouraged to avail of spiritual direc-tors, many religious have not availed themselves of these opportunities. This was for a variety of reasons. Some wondered what there was to talk about. Some could not find someone who felt qualified. Some used a con-fessor, and kept the focus more sin-and problem-centered. Some used spiritual directors, but restricted the interactions to areas of the spiritual domain. Others have used a spiritual director as a formation companion without naming the person as such. This latter group knows the power and potential for having a formation companion. The qualification for being someone's companion is that we are also working these steps, and sharing honestly of ourselves with someone. No advanced degrees are required because it is humility found in a relationship with God that we seek. The formation companion could be male or female, priest, religious, or lay person. What is important for us is that our companion understand these steps, and be willing to walk with us as we journey them. The criterion we use to ask someone to serve as our formation com-panion is that we feel this person cares for us, has common sense,~,and is also working a "formation program." Our companion calls us to honesty and celebrates growth with us, but this person does not attempt to fill any need other than serving as the formation companion. As we grow, we may find ourselves broadening and using many others to share our journey. We may use physicians, psy-chologists, a spiritual support group, the people with whom we live, other friends, our superiors, our employers, a confessor. The Areas of the S.P.E.A.K. Model Spiritual The steps lead us completely in this area. As we grow in this spiri-tual revolution and in union through steps one through eleven, we de-velop insights that lead us to hunger for balance in the other areas. We find that as we deepen and grow in this area, if there has been careless-ness in the communal expression of our prayer, even this turns around. We soften. We find time where time was not to be found before. We hun-ger to be with each other in our religious expression as well as in the deeper leadings of the area of Koinonia. Physical The body is essential for us if we are to operate as feeling, relating The S.P.E.A.K. Model / 197 human beings. It is a vital source for information about our lives, and a key support for us to function in all areas. Our bodies can be scream-ing warnings to us if we will pay attention. For example, our bodies tell us if we are suppressing feelings or living relationships in ways that are dishonest to ourselves or to others. We can experience gastrointestinal problems, ulcers, high blood pressure, cancer, and back problems. If there is rigidity in the muscles, there is often rigidity in the emotions and spirit. The challenge of this area is to listen to the cues, to work the steps to learn what is happening, and to develop habits which are life-giving, respectful, and nurturing for the body as well as the other areas of our lives. If we listen to the input of others as well as observe our own lives, we may see that we are making body choices which are harmful to the other S.P.E.A.K. areas. For example, we might be choosing the use of substances such as nicotine, caffeine, alcohol, or sugar as substitutes for feeling, or to fill emotional, spiritual, or relational lack. In addition to life choices which affec( our continuing formation, there are those choices for fast food, for beef, for comfort and conven-ience which have implications for the rest of the world's famine and un-dernutrition. Part of the challenge of this area is the aspect of practicing the physi-cal and spiritual discipline of fasting to detoxify and rebalance the body, to reverse even degenerative illness, and to bring ourselves into a deeper harmony with others. Just as we need to keep working these steps in the other areas where physical inertia is seen, we have a cue that an imbalance is happening, and an opportunity to reflect upon the reason for this shutdown. Inertia is life denying. The body requires regular aerobic movement to increase the circulatory flow, the metabolic rate for heart, skeletal and muscular tone, for body conditioning, and to allow for oxygen to get to the brain. Emotional One of the promises of the awakening which we experience in step eleven is a sense that emotional balance and wholeness are happening. Before we experience this balance, however, we would have taken some serious steps to be ready for inner healing. These steps take time, and as we learn more about who we are, we can continue to share this with another, work with it, work these steps and deepen. Perhaps as we did our inventory, we saw patterns of overinflated or underinflated self-esteem, patterns of overe.ngagement in activity or serv-ice, perfectionism, depression, fear, resentments. Perhaps we saw that 198 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 we isolate from others, do not share our feelings. Perhaps we give our love and attention to pets, compare ourselves to others, blame others, feel jealous, judge people's motives, interpret others' motives to others, think rigidly either positively or negatively about others, isolate ourselves from others or hide our feelings or practice. Perhaps we use food or drink, work, sex to hide from feelings. The task of these steps is to bring the darkness to light, that the dark-ness may lose its power over us. In the S.P.E.A.K. model, we practice naming our feelings, reflecting upon what happens to trigger them, look-ing at our instincts which we perceive as being threatened and at our re-sponses to these threats. As we practice this and work steps two through nine, we find ourselves growing much stronger, more serene, more pow-erful, and more humble. Apostolic Today's society, the "world" of St. John's gospel, rewards us if we have power. We are encouraged to become specialists. This applies to the areas of medicine, psychology, sbcial work, education, spiritual direction, and pastoral ministry. It is easy for us to be sensitive to our congregational financial pressures, to time demands, and to be seduced by this world. For those walking the Gospel path, working the 12 steps, the value of our apostolic mission is in living out our spiritual awakening and ex-perience. This is why the spiritual, emotional, and koinonia areas are so important as prerequisites to ministry. Our mission is to be the charism of our congregations in deep solidarity with the anguish which is under-neath all the glitter of power and success. If we are not yet comfortable with our own anguish, and with sharing it with others, we cannot con-vey this experience to others. As Nouwen says, our leadership, our value lies in that we dare to claim our irrelevancy in the contemporary world. We are parts of insti-tutions, but our challenge is to be humble, to work these steps, to walk a spiritual path, to reflect the koinonia attitude in how we reflect the mer-ciful love and justice of God with others. Koinonia In the 12 steps, we come to let go of fears or pseudocommunity pre-tenses, self-seeking, and control. The 12 steps help us to relate more hon-estly, more compassionately to the people with whom we live and work, but there is anoiher dimension beyond this. Koinonia is a Greek word meaning "a deep sense of interconnectedness, of communion with oth- The S.P.E.A.K. Model ers at the faith level." Rollo May suggests that our entire culture is schizoid, out of touch, avoiding close relationships, unable to feel, unable to express aggressive feelings directly, seclusive and personally withdrawn. In this koinonia area we measure our lifestyles against the radical demands of the Gos-pel model of Jesus. We contrast it with the dominant values of society, the dependencies, the addictions, the fear, and the lack of touch. Koinonia challenges us to see the whole world as a community. Our new spiritual awakening leads us to hunger to create a new civilization in which war, violence, terrorism, and oppression are banished. We know from our own personal experience that another way is possible. No one of us can do this of ourselves, but just as the early Church persisted, and pervades the earth today, so can we, one small community at a time! For interrelatedness to happen in this world, people have to be in-terrelating; then God takes over and lets the miracles happen. We let go, and let him. The challenge of koinonia is for us to drop pretenses, to leave the door open for others to see us cry, to be with us as we grow, to hear our laughter, to let people see how we love each other. From this koinonia sense, we grow to be able to include others, to let them walk in and touch us so that even more of us are empowered to know and wit-ness to his Good News. Summary The power of the S.P.E.A.K. model lies in our openness to continue to let go, to let God be God in our lives. We use and continue to use the 12 steps and a formation companion so that we deepen in a personal relationship with him. We work and pray to be teachable spiritually, physi-cally, emotionally, relati0nally, and in our ministry, not for ourselves, but so that a troubled world may know what w.e see, and hear, and know. As a direct result of working this program, of walking these steps, we find that we no longer have to hold up masks of spiritual perfection since we are "professional," vowed religious. Instead, we have become free to share our struggle with others as equals in his love. We share our spiritual progress. We do not need to be self-protective anymore, but our arms are open to include others. There is nothing to fear because there is nothing to protect. If there is concern as to how to start with these twelve steps, there are often ready and available resources in each local parish and in many retreat houses and religious communities. Many parishes have good solid parish leaders who are recovering from some compulsive pattern or ad-diction. These people are more than ready to share the Good News with 200 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 us. Also, many religious communities and retreat houses have members in 12-step programs, or who have learned of these steps by exploring them in their own lives. These people are also usually more than gener-ous in sharing what they have seen and heard with their own eyes and ears. 'RESOURCES Alcoholics Anonymous.Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions. New York: Alcohol-ics Anonymous World Services, Inc., 1981. Elgin, Duane. Voluntary Simplicity: Toward A Way of Life That Is Outwardly Sim-ple, Inwardly Rich. N.Y.: William Morrow & Co., 1981. Hart, Thomas N. The Art of Christian Listening. N.Y.: Paulist Press. 1980. Main, John, O.S.B. Death: The Inner Journey. Montreal: Benedictine Priory, 1983. Nouwen, Henri. With OutStretched Hands: Reflections on Christian Leadership in the Future. Unpublished paper, 1989. Palmer, Helen. Enneagram: Understanding Yourself and the Others in Your Life. San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988. Peck, M. Scott. The Different Drum: Community Making and Peace. New York: Si-mon & Shuster, 1987. Schaef, Anne W. Co-Dependence: Misunderstood--Mistreated. Minneapolis, MN: Winston Press, 1986. Sperry, Len. "Daily Decisions About Nutrition." Human Development 9 (Spring, 1988). Pp. 40-46. Subby, Robert, and Fried, John. "Co-Dependence: A Paradoxical Dependency," in Co-Dependency! An Emerging Issue, Pompano Beach, Florida: Hath Communi-cations, 1984. Trungpa, Chogyam. Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism. Boston: Shambala, 1973. In the Valley of Decision Marie Beha, O.S.C. Sister Marie Beha, O.S.C., continues to reside in the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 N. Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. In the early days of my religious life, one Sunday a month was set aside as a day of recollection, a retreat day. Out of earshot of the novice di-rector, we called it "dead Sunday," because it featured extra time for a meditation on death. Even though we resisted some of the more mor-bid descriptions following that meditation's first prelude, "Place your-self on your deathbed," the practice did ensure that we were regularly confronted with the realization of personal mortality. Today there are plenty of other reminders: tragedy that shouts in the headlines and is pictured in all its starkness on television or in the news magazines, the alarming statistics of the rising number of adolescent sui-cides, the toll of AIDS, the senseless slaughter of innocent victims in bombing raids, and the torture of random hostages. To this litany we add our more personalized grief over the death of family and friends. We know dying in all of its unexpectedness, its violence, its tragedy, our grief compounded the closer we are to the individuals who have died. And in our world of instant communication death is never very far away. What we are less familiar with is the dying of our institutions, our communities. Not that this is a new phenomenon either. It is as much a fact of life as the death of individuals but less perceptible except with the long look of history. By the time that history notices, however, those with most reason to mourn have already passed th.rough death them-selves. Yet institutional dying is an ever present reality. On the global level we are threatened by almost certain extinction if nation against nation 201 202 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 ever turns to nuclear war. We face the unknown consequences of our wan-ton destruction of rain forests centuries in the growing. We worry about environmental pollution passing on to the next generation, an earth poi-soned beyond, control. We experience that our technology so outstrips our wisdom that we may be as likely to kill as to cure. On the local level, that of the communities where we live, we con-front death every time a neighborhood is ripped up to make way for prog-ress or a business closes because of obsolescence. Families come to the end of the generations, as they have always done, but now the very in-stitution of the family itself seems doomed to extinction. Divorce, child-less marriages, abortion, weaken it from within, while drugs and the value-system of a consumer society attack it from without. Churches are empty so parishes close, following the demise of the parochial school. Religious communities face not only financial crises of major proportions but also the slow starvation of fewer and fewer vocations. Already some congregations are opting for survival through merger; others have been "suppressed," as the death process is termed, grimly enough, in Church law. Within the foreshortened history of our individual lives, we can no longer deny the mortality of our institutions; we are being invited to en-ter consciously into what is happening all around us. We become aware that some communities simply expire, brought down by their own dis-eased condition or their inability to receive from, or give life to, the world around them. They starve to death. Others die honorably and natu-rally of old age. Some fade away forced by circumstances to accept their growing irrelevance; others are felled by revolution while still in their prime. The question is not "Do institutions die?" but "How do they? And how do we respond to their dying?" Are we aware or do we prefer the apparent safety of denial? When denial is no longer possible, what do we do then? Rage against the inevitable? Give up? Bargain for more time? Or do we face institutional death with courage, living the present to the full, admitting that life's precariousness is part of its preciousness? The choice of response is ours, not only as individuals, but as commu-nities. Instant communication provides information; it does not ensure adequate response nor delay death's inevitability. Institutions must die, but how they die is a matter of decision. Ours! Theological Reflections for a Dying Community On our way north we had stopped overnight, availing ourselves of the gracious hospitality that had suggested, "Come anytime." The build- In the Valley of Decision / 203 ing was 1950-modern, far too large for the eight or so sisters who pres-ently occupied it. The refectory seemed cavernous; it could easily have seated forty. Mercifully the community room was small and cozy, the superior.exp!aining that it had once been the priest's dining room. She also mentioned that the third floor was closed off to save heat, and it was obvious that the second floor was sparsely populated. The situation was depressingly familiar. What was remarkable was the sense of joy that made supper a re-freshment for body and spirit. The sisters welcoming us ranged in age from the superior in her late 40s, who had introduced herself as "the only young sister here," to an octogenarian busily can'ying in dishes from the kitchen. I was seated next to a sister in a wheel chair who had been brought in by another sister who seemed to be using the wheel chair as a substitute walker. Both smiled a sincere welcome, "We are so glad to have you with us." Others gathered and I guessed the average age somewhere in the 70s. The conversation soon revealed that most were active in one way or another. Some spoke of bringing Communion to the sick; others of tutoring kids from the nearby elementary school. One 85- year-old had tales to tell of the black children she helped in a Head Start program; her love for the children was obvious. Another drew her chair closer to mine, saying that she did not hear well anymore and did not want to miss a word; her attentiveness the rest 6f the meal made us all more articulate. Table conversation included convent trivia but it did not stay there. The sisters read widely and well. They ~ere critical of what the~ had heard on TV, exchanged evaluations of VCR programs. And peppered me with good questions in a way that told me why they were so well in-formed about what was happening in the contemporary Church. When they welcomed visitors, these sisters welcomed the wider world. Towards the end of the meal, I deliberately intoned the familiar list of religious-life woes: few recruits, shrinking apostolates, the "greying" of the congregation. The facts were acknowledged. The sisters' response was obviously the fruit of many shared reflections. They were happy with the community they had chosen and the life they shared; now they would see each other through to the end. God was with .them, still at work in his world. As one said to me with a smile that I will never for-get, "Our community may be dying but God is making something new. ' ' As I threaded my way back to the freeway next morning, I found my-self reflecting on what I had heard and seen. There was no denial of 91~4 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 death. The shrinking number of sisters and their physical limitations were accepted facts of life; they were not neurotic preoccupations. The sisters were too alive for that. Their acceptance was not tainted with hopeless-ness and its equivalent suicide. They were not actualizing their worst fears by giving in to bitterness or despair. Today their community is alive; some tomorrow it might not be. Progression toward an end time is inevitable, whether it is their owndeath, that of the their beloved con-gregation, or the final days of the world. "And after that the judg-ment"., a judgment that is in the making in their response now. Im-plicit in the faith of these few old sisters was a whole theology of the death and dying of institutions. Awareness precedes acceptance. So faith-response to death and dy-ing begins by breaking through denial. Like the middle-aged woman look-ing in the mirror and acknowledging that the first wrinkles are more than shadows caused by poor lighting, all need to admit "We are moving to-ward death." This world is passing away and the institutions that pres-ently shape it will not always do so. Even now all are dying. At times this process accelerates and we experience the diminish-ment. The grace of such periods is that of bringing us into contact with a truth we too easily ignore; its occasion of sin is confusion in our re-sponse. There are seasons when death's approach must be resisted strongly; in fact, this is always our first response. "Choose life." But there comes a time when resistance is useless; surrender is called for. The difference between may be difficult to recognize but it is critically im-portant. Faith's response balances "choose life" with "accept death." For the believer, for the community of believers, the ultimate answer is not biological, nor sociological, but Christological. "Am I alive in Christ? Is my dying a going to the Father in and with Christ Jesus?" If so, my death is a coming alive. "Or am I mortally, morally, and spiritually sick unto eternal death?" Then my living and my dying are both lost forever. Responding to this question that all death and dying puts before us forces freedom's choice. Our answer rises out of life; it is the last sylla-ble in the sentence we have been phrasing in all the pronouncements of life, all individual or institutional decision-making. Only in death will we become finally free to speak the word that is Self. Only in the act of dying will we, individuals and communities, be capable of that con-summation of freedom which is total, absolute, commitment. In dying, the mystery of living stands revealed; dying-rising are one whole mystery, one continuous process, one word, even though our ex- In the Valley of Decision / 205 perience, as well as our orthography, spells it with a hyphen. Dying is a breakthrough into life; at least, it can be. That is freedom's choice; we determine the meaning. Just as Jesus did. Dying: Christological Implications. How did Jesus die? The answer has been repeated so often that the cross has lost its power to say anything; it is decoration more than real-ity. Yet redemption, becoming free, growing into holiness, are only pos-sible when we as individuals, as communities, enter into the passion and death of Jesus. So again, how did Jesus die? As we do, moving through the process of realizing it, being angered by it, bargaining with it, feeling blackness of depression, and, finally, coming to an acceptance that transforms death into fuller life. Particularly in the gospel of Luke, we see the whole life of Jesus as a moving toward his death. We read, "He set his face toward Jerusa-lem" (Lk 9:51). This was where he was going, the call of his Father's .love, the motivation for his every redemptive act. Death and dying were important concerns he spoke about to those who were closest to him. Not that they understood or appreciated such reminders of mortality. They denied the facts, even protested. They were for kingdom building here, now, in their world. And Jesus rebuked them sharply, "Get behind me, satan" (Mk 8:33). Jesus acknowledged death's inevitability; he knew that his way of liv-ing would lead to the cross. What he chose was life, a life that would climax in death. He freely accepted the fatal consequences of choosing to live, to teach, to act as he did. Aware and able to choose, in the free-dom that rose from who he was before the Father, he embraced the dy-ing that went with the living. Knowing and accepting did not rule out protest. Jesus' response to the pharisees who were seeking to put him to death (Jn 8:40) was clear and unequivocal. They were doing the work of the devil, whose sons they were! Even at the end, Jesus protested the injustice of his being con-demned to death. He refused to cooperate with Herod's court of inquiry, remaining silent when lifesaving prudence might have dictated at least a minimum of cooperation. Before Pilate, his protest became vocal. "Do you ask this of your own accord. ? . My kingdom is not of this world" (Jn 18:35). Previous to this, the power of his self-assertion directed against the soldiers sent to arrest him had set them back on their heels. Jesus was angry; he did not deserve death. "If I have done good why do you seek 206 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 to kill me?" Why die? Why me? That is the protest life addresses to death. Ultimately it becomes a question addressed to the Lord of life. Why suffering? Why dying? The answer does not come easily. The healthier the person, the more wrench-ing the acceptance. Jesus sweat blood before his will could speak out its central commitment, "Not my will but yours be done" (Mk 14:37). The struggle, the bargaining, were finished. The passion continued. The dying of Jesus moved toward completion, each stage bringing him down, deeper into "the pit of death." Betrayal, abandonment, physi-cal and emotional abuse would take their terrible toll. Fastened to the cross Jesus would drink death's cup to the bitter dregs. He would express heartbreak in a cry of desolation, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" (Mk 15:34). "He who did not know sin had been made sin" (2 Co 5:21) for our sake, and Jesus felt the oppression of slavery and alienation. He accepted, "It is accomplished" (Jn 19:30). His last word summed up his life's orientation. He would die as he had lived into the hands of his Father, his trust redeeming the horror of death by cruci-fixion, transforming passion's suffering into self-offering. The acceptance of Jesus' surrender opened out into the new life of resurrection. What he gave up, he received back; rather, his resurrection was a "making new." Through dying, he went beyond death. This is now clear to us with the evidence of something accomplished. But for Jesus, as for us, surrender into death was an act of faith, an experience of letting go with only trust to justify the risk. Death must come first, before new life is possible. Jesus had to lose his life. So must we. Mortality Denied The passion and death of Jesus is invitation, something we can freely enter into or can refuse and resist. Whatever our choice, the process ton-tinues but its effectiveness depends radically on our response to this fact of life, our mortality as individuals and as communities. We can opt to live through our dying or we can choose to deny death and so die to life. Denial is the first of our resistances. A community, for example, can refuse to face what is happening, as the number of new members de-creases and average age rises. Data are challenged; the credentials of the statistician questioned. Others are blamed for the crisis; "they" are no longer generous, interested, concerned. These are obvious forms of de-nial and they do nothing to stop the progress of decline. Less obvious is the denial that refuses to face, not only the symp-toms, but the cause of the illness as well, its seriousness, the rate of pro-gression, its effect on others. Why is community dying? Is it diseased, In the Valley of Decision / 207 brought down by "infection" from surrounding culture or by a lifestyle that is no longer functional? Or is it simply succumbing to old age, the inevitable decline that is the underside of history's progress? Is this pro-cess reversible, something that a group needs to pass through and then go on with life as before? Or does it require a change of direction, a new and different way of living? Is this illness terminal? If so, how much time is left? How rapid the progression of present rates of decline? Howare others affected by our dying as community? Are they suffering too, and what can be done to alleviate their pain? The questions are stark; no one asks them lightly. Unwillingness to even look at them is denial made possible through the use of those de-fense mechanisms with which we are all too familiar. We rationalize, pre-senting specious reasons to explain present experience: we are not dy-ing, just "indisposed." The whole problem is temporary; things will turn around soon. Besides we are not to blame. The reverse side of this stance.is: some-body must be. We blame other people, including God! Our dying is the will of God and so must be accepted. Perhaps. "God willing" may ex-press surrender but it may also attribute to God something that we have not yet faced. The very rightness of our reasoning is all the more dan-gerous because it cloaks denial with religious ritual, an especially safe form of repression. Paradoxically, community may also deny responsibility by giving too much credence to those who are predicting its demise; it lacks the inner freedom to reply, "The reports of our death are greatly exagger-ated!" While the prophets of doom may be correct, they may also be mis-taken. The accuracy of their prophecies will only be revealed when the future becomes present. All we know now is that attitude makes a dif-ference. While refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation will not cure it, giving up hope will surely condemn us to death. Another inappropriate response attempts to ignore the whole ques-tion and continues, doggedly, to do what "we have always done." We may call this fidelity but it is not. Fidelity is creative response incorpo-rating past into present and moving on into the new of the future. Denial condemns to fruitless repetition that goes nowhere. Preoccupation with safety and security needs is a rather accurate index of a group's mori-bund condition. Overreliance on what has worked in the past may simu-late faith, but it really is presumption. "God will take care of us" may be just another attempt to manipulate God into doing what we neglect to do for ourselves. 2011 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 Denial is failed responsibility; it violates the delicate line of balance between doing all that we can but not more than we ought. So commu-nity that is experiencing some of the symptoms of approaching death errs either by ignoring the situation or by exaggerating solutions. It can, for example, refuse assistance, since accepting help involves admitting a need for it. It can also erupt in a flurry of poorly planned activity, lis-tening to every guru who promises gilt-edged salvation. Fund-raisers can be a preferred way for Americans to refuse responsibility while appear-ing to assume it. Community Anger The hidden blessing of denial is its inevitable failure. When facts can no longer be avoided, they must be faced. Anger follows. Unfortunately, it too can be denied, hidden, buried under heaps of inappropriate behav-ior, deflected in projections; or it can rage out of control, leaving devas-tation in its wake. Anger denied is dangerous; anger accepted and appropriately ex-pressed is powerful energy for good. It can move a community deeper into the paschal mystery; it can lead to life. The question is how? The first answer: by acknowledging what is happening. Are we as commu-nity angry? What are we angry about? Community anger, like that of individuals, is often misplaced. It looks for some convenient target; so we kick the dog because we cannot face its owner. Seeking some scapegoat we may even turn against our own. If our predecessors had only been wiser. If present membership were less selfish, recruitment more effective, formation better planned. What may have been only contributing factors are made to bear the whole weight of adequate causes. The same projection of anger can be vented on persons and groups outside community. The more helpless the victim, the safer the outrage. An angry community becomes increasingly critical. Its spirit grows sour; its activity strained and harsh. It asks too much of members and of others. Aggressivity swallows up joy, dissolves compassion. Dying is always pain-filled, difficult. Anger is a "messy" emotion. Commu-nity at this stage will be broken wide open, all its wounds and weak-nesses revealed. Members will leave, pursued by the fury of those who remain and feel abandoned. Those who stay may wallow in unattractive self-pity, becoming entrenched in the very symptoms of the dying. Underneath this storm of pain, community is most of all angry at it-self. We cannot live "on our own"; mortality strikes a vital blow at the myth of .self-sufficiency. The length of our days is not something we con- In the Valley of Decision / 209 trol. Our raging against this will not change its truth. Acceptance is the only way through and out. Grief Work But first community needs to mourn. We are losing our life. We may not know yet whether what we are facing is the final test of death and burial or only the call to pass through another cycle of dying. In either case we must enter into the pain. Grievir~g community needs both time and distance. Some members can let go of the.past more quickly than others, the rate being determined by such variables as temperament and degree of attachment. Mourning demands patience; it is not just linear but cyclic. Going through requires repetition, reexperiencing and reexpressing the grief. Things will not be the same . . . ever., this is an ending. Community needs to provide itself with space and time for the griev-ing. When members leave, for example, those who are left behind may have as much adjusting to do as those who face the transition into new beginnings. The anger of the community may even be increased by the fact---characteristic of all our dying--that it has been confronted with a decision not of its own choosing. Healthy grieving not only takes time; it has its own timing. How long it lasts and how often the cycle of anger., depression., anger. must be repeated cannot be determined from outside community. But, finally, a group, as well as the individuals who compose it, need to make a decision to move on. We will never be the same. The past cannot be reconstructed; nor those who have been part of us, returned. As much as we might like to remember past glory-days, they no longer offer the satisfaction of present reality. Now we have to live., or not live. in the present. Unhealthy grieving fails this reality test. It can be so prolonged that all one's life energy goes into it; dying is all that remains of life. That is not grief but defeat. Even in the pain the option remains to "choose life." So a community that is dying can continue to model attitudes of openness and concern for others. It can choose to serve as long and as much as it is able. In doing so it affirms the ultimate value of life even in the midst of death. Community can avoid the withdrawal, the turning in on self, that threatens to allow dying to become a form of being buried alive. De-pression risks just such introversion. Granted that the temptation to al-low pain to become preoccupation can be great, it is also self-defeating. It only intensifies and prolongs the suffering. Depression that is indulged 910 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 in grows bitter and that is the worst kind of death; in the end, the natural aloneness of dying becomes enforced isolation. To avoid this, outside support is almost necessary to assist groups working through depression. Their greater objectivity enables com-munity not to get stuck in the process. Perhaps all that others do is to name what is going on and this already frees energies. While ac-knowledgment is one service others render, appreciation is still more thera-peutic. ApFreciation of what has been, yes, but also gratitude for the im-mediate gift that the dying community continues to offer, its participa-tion in the paschal mystery. Acceptance of Death Acceptance should not image supine submission to what can no longer be avoided. It is an attitude of strength that kno

Issue 50.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1991. ; Review fOl~ Religious Volume 50 Number 4 July/August 1991 P()STMAS'I'I'.'ll: Send mhh'c.~.~ chang~'s Io Rl.:Vll.:W 1.~ nt ll,.:i.i~ ;i, ~i,s; P.(). Box 6071); l)llhli h, M N 55806. .~lll~scriplioll raics: .~illglc c.py $3.51) plus lll~lililig 1991 RI.:VIEW I)avid L. Fleming, ~.l. Philip C. Fischen S.I. Michad G. I-hzrter, ~.l. Elizabeth Mcl)omm~h, 0.1: Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Edilor Asxocial~" Cammical Co.nsc/Edilor Assistant Editors David J. Hassel, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Advisory Board Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. July/August 1991 Volume 50 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor should be sent to R~vl~w rot R~lous; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Elizabeth McDonougb, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue; P.O. 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This order is for [] a new subscription [] a renewal [] a restart of a lapsed subscription MAIL TO: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯ 3601 LINDELL BOULEVARD ° ST.LOu1S, MO 63108 1-91" PRISMS. The word ordinary seems to imply the bland, the unexciting, the run-of-the- mill, the everyday. In fact, for many of us even the liturgical year of the Church suffers from being divided into two parts: the Seasons and Ordinary Time. Although liturgy properly speaks of our celebrations, we tend to find it hard to celebrate what is called ordinary. Perhaps the very distinction which the Church highlights in so dividing the liturgical year calls us to a deeper reflection upon our understanding of the ordinary. God creates the ordinary., and calls it good. It is true: the ordinary is the very substance of our world. While being itself God's cre-ation, the ordinary is also the substance with which God works. We, by being ordinary, can be touched and molded and transfigured by God. Often we try to escape from being ordinary, and in the process we shut ourselves off from being available to God's action in our lives. In the bibli-cal accounts of creation, we find the lure of an escape from the ordinary the root crisis of properly using our God-given freedom. The story of Lucifer and the fallen angels is a story of beings discontent with being ordinary. As they try to move beyond the ordinary by shutting out God, this becomes their hell. So, too, the story of Adam and Eve is a story of two people, in the freshness of human life, already desirous of escaping the ordinary--to be like gods. Sacramentally we are reminded that God continues to take the ordi-nary- water, bread and wine, oil--to make extraordinary contact with us. Even when our prayer or the spirituality we live is--try as we may---ordi-nary, we thus have the very quality which allows it to become the vehicle of God's action. The difficulty for us in accepting the ordinary is not just from an inherent human tendency to want to be noticed and praised, but also from the graced impetus to strive, to struggle, to desire to grow beyond where we are. How are we to distinguish these spirits within us, distinguish move-ments that would lead us to close ourselves off to God by our self-focus from movements whereby God is drawing us ever closer in our surrender? Our writers in this issue provide us with various approaches to a lived answer. John Wickham goes right to the heart of our reflections in the lead article by focusing on our choice of being "just ordinary." McMurray and Conroy and Kroeger turn our gaze to the whole complexus of activities 481 482 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 which make up our spirituality--how do we work at making a spirituality our "ordinary" life-source? A different question is posed by Samy and Fichtner when they ask whether the ordinary practices which we find in a spirituality which is not Christian can be an aid in our openness to God. Vest and Schwarz and Gottemoeller draw our attention to various aspects of the ordinary Christian lay life as influenced by a spirituality which is described as monastic, by a new kind of membership relation to a traditional religious congregation, or by a new responsibility within the institutions formerly identified with a particular religious order. In the midst of some of the liturgical renewal stimulated by Vatican II, the practice of a daily Eucharistic celebration has sometimes been a point of dispute, especially among those priests and religious whose congregational rule or custom clearly called for such observance. The confusion often turned on what was celebratory and what was ordinary or daily. John Huels weaves his way through various schools of thought in order to provide a group with a whole cloth of ordinary spiritual practice. Although contemplative life in its dedicated form is recognized as truly a special calling in the Church, Clifford Stevens would have us all draw some nourishment today from its age-old sources. And finally, four different writers--Navone, Monteleone, Seethaler, and Billy--lead us further along in the most common activity of human interaction with God, our attempt at praying. As portrayed in the gospels, Jesus had to spend a lot of his efforts both in his ordinary apostolic life and then again in his resurrected life to prove his ordinariness. He gets tired, he eats and drinks, he needs friends, and he takes time to pray--all ordinary activities for us humans. And yet it was in these very ordinary dealings that God is fully present to us in Jesus Christ. Perhaps the part of the Church year we call "ordinary time" is a necessary reminder to us of how God wants to work with us. David L. Fleming, S.J. Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" John Wickham, S.J Father John Wickham, S.J., is a member of the Upper Canada Province of the Society of Jesus. He is the author of The Common Faith and The Communal Exercises (Ignatian Centre in Montreal): His address is Ignatian Centre; 4567 West Broadway; Montreal, Quebec; Canada H4B 2A7. There is something new, I believe, about the feeling often experienced today of being "just an ordinary person." Many recurrently feel that way despite their natural gifts, highly developed skills, or honored positions. Nor do they need to deny those advantages. In contrast to what others may tend to think, or what the world expects of them, their subjective experience of themselves--what it feels like from within their own skins--is that of a worthwhile even if unfinished, rather unique and yet uncertainly striving, interesting enough but still "just ordinary" life. It is midway between what is heroic and what is base. It is not very glamorous, but neither is it paltry. Its special taste, which is quite different from these alternatives, makes it a rather new kind of experience. If at times we do recognize that experience in ourselves, then we may face a range of questions. Should I accept the feeling as a true and good one? Or would I be better off without it? Should I choose it so often and persis-tently that it becomes habitual for me? Or would that turn into an inauthentic pose? Should I try to find some part of my real identity there? And what exactly would that imply? For example, would it mean I am choosing to be mediocre? The fact that a feeling arises, St. Ignatius tells us, does not prove it to be from God. The latter point needs to be discerned. And kinds of feeling that become widespread in a given society need to be discerned just as much as do feelings that arise only in a particular individual. In fact, our faith com-munities must often set themselves against cultural trends in the world around them. 483 484 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 In order to get at underlying issues, I wish to consider this topic in two stages. The first will be restricted to the phenomenon itself of a "just ordi-nary" feeling as a secular event in our world. Only then will I turn to the sec-ond stage, namely, to take up the kinds of faith response which we might wish to give it today. The first part, then, attempts an analysis of the "feel-ing." The second considers when, or in what circumstances, we might "choose" in faith to make it our own. Our New Cultural Situation To rephrase my opening statement, I believe that a "just ordinary" feel-ing about oneself is somewhat new as a more widespread and recurrent experience in Western culture. In recent years nearly everyone I have spoken to about this has nodded at once and said, "Yes, that's exactly how I often feel." While I possess no statistical data on its prevalence, my impression is that quite a few people have come to recognize its presence in themselves. Let me try to locate this experience more precisely. I am referring to something secular in origin and not necessarily Christian or religious in itself. Like God's rain and sunshine, it may affect everyone, just :and unjust, believer and unbeliever alike. Perhaps it was triggered off by the countercultural movement of the nineteen-sixties, since during the seventies commentators often pointed out the exaggerated attention then being given to inner feel-ings- to the personal self of each one apart from their external involvements. At that time many were being thrown back upon their subjective states of awareness to a degree that had rarely happened before. The seventies were called the "Me Decade," one that belonged to the "Me Generation" whose subjective responses (often referred to then as "getting in touch with your feelings") were given unprecedented emphasis and publicity. What had previously been mostly private now became blatantly public. But perhaps during the eighties not only the novelty but some of the disturbing quality, too, of that rather messy explosion of "subjectivity" in our midst has worn off and subsided to a degree--enough to allow "just ordinary" feelings to rise to the surface and gain attention today. What had occurred, then, was an intensification of self-awareness, a heightening of subjective consciousness among much larger segments of our population than before, and even a thematization of this event in our culture. "Souls" had been transformed into "subjects." Individuals became persons. This had happened much earlier, of course, for some exceptional people and even for smallish groups here and there, but it had never before become such a widespread phenomenon. And it involves matters of considerable importance, not easily dis- Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 41~5 missed. Bernard Lonergan has written of "the shift to interiority" in the twentieth century as the emergence of a new "realm" of human reality, i At the opposite end of the scale, the usual wild and foolish misuse of a new gift by the more excitable members of society should not blind us to its underly-ing significance. That is the larger context. More in particular I wish to stress, first of all, the quieter reverberations which those noisy events have left with many per-sons today. The gift itself of interiority is multifaceted, of course, but a first approach would notice that in part it may belong with the newly "expressive self' which has emerged alongside, and often independently of, the older "utilitarian self.''2 While the latter continues to exert a dominant influence in our midst, it must now share the public table with a more mystical parmer. From a slightly different viewpoint the "just ordinary" feeling should be seen mainly as a response to the puritan "strong self' of modern culture. After the nineteenth century in the West we gained the capacity-- appropri-ate to a technocratic society---of developing our ego-strengths. That is, a cer-tain knack, at least for special purposes, of withholding or excluding deeper levels of feeling can free an individual to concentrate on impersonal obser-vations, accurate calculations, and carefully directed efforts of the will. Further development of this inner self-control is required for any kind of efficiency and productivity in the working world. It is clear that the requisite skills are not given by nature but must be culturally developed. Not only our workplaces but our schools and colleges, too, call insistently for the formation of habits (especially of technical reason and will) which enable entry into the competitive society with all the bureau-cratic ladders and graduated salary scales of a successful career---or not-so-successful, as the case may (more often) be. In contrast to this still urgent public arena of "strong selves," individual members also return to private worlds of rest, relaxation, and entertainment, to times of weakness when they may face their own ignorance about the questions posed to them in life and recogn!ze their lack of energy for the continual efforts required. Human beings, it should be stressed, when separated from their social roles and active commitments and thrown back upon their private resources, usually do not find a great deal of their own to sustain them. Modern urban ways have cut people off from the deeply penetrating and densely inter-twined supports of rural societies. As a result, the rootless city dweller becomes conscious of boredom, of empty times to be filled up, of personal neediness and spiritual hungers not easily satisfied. An individual person, after all, is usually endangered by too much isolation from others, and mod- 4~16 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 em technologies often weaken or destroy traditional communities (families, neighborhoods, parishes). Besides, whenever institutions let us down or defeat our aims, or when hurtful clashes disturb our feelings for others, we are left alone to deal with a diminishing present and a more uncertain future. That is when a loving spouse and intimate friends (if available)become essential to our very sur-vival; without them, depressed feelings all too easily turn to thoughts of nonexistence. It was the countercultural movement which reacted against the giant bureaucratic institutions of our world and forced into the broader stream of public life the previously underground resource of subjective feelings. It transformed leisure moments of the kind just mentioned into recurrent times of self-expression which are portrayed and celebrated in our electronic media. This revealed to large numbers of fairly well-off persons in Western societies that their interior selves need to be cultivated in ways that differ enormously from the older patterns of successful selfhood modeled for them in corporate institutions. The counterculture managed to give sustained pub-licity to a host of "alternative lifestyles"---that is, a diverse range of subjec-tive modes in self-identity and interpersonal relating. This vastly expanded "realm of interiority" provides a cultural context for, and is itself fostered by, many recent movements: affirmations of per-sonal rights, the reawakening of charismata, the turn to the East, the renewal of contemplative prayer traditions, and the broadly secular interest in spiritu-alities of all kinds. It is surpi'ising to notice how the word "spiritual" and its cognates have gained such widespread use not only in the arts but in sports, politics, business enterprises, salesmanship, the military--almost every-where today. In our faith tradition, on the other hand, the interior life had a much more restricted meaning. Medieval interiority was exclusively religious--the very opposite of anything secular or worldly. In order to develop one's union with God, according to the late-medieval Imitation of Christ, believers were expected to withdraw from external involvements--at least, from all the habits and attitudes belonging to them--and to cultivate an inner commu-nion with the Lord deep within their hearts. The Imitation, we should remember, is the most popular spiritual classic of all time.3 A crucial aspect of its teaching has to do with the personal self so poignantly revealed by means of a prolonged withdrawal of the kind rec-ommended. But when thrown back upon oneself in this way, what does one find? The oft-repeated answer to this question shows how bare the cup-boards of subjectivity can be: Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 487 This is the greatest and most useful lesson we can learn: to know our-selves for what we truly are, to admit freely our own weaknesses and failings.4 I am nothing, and I did not even know it. If left to myself, I am noth-ing; I am all weakness. But if you turn your face to me, [Lord,] I am at once made strong and am filled with new happiness.5 Oh, how humbly and lowly I ought to feel about myself, and even if I seem to have goodness, I ought to think nothing of it . I find myself to be nothing but nothing, absolutely nothing . I peer deep within myself and I find nothing but total nothingness.6 No doubt, older Christians today will recall teachings of this kind as familiar features of their early training. And some of its emphases tend to give us pause. What about the inherent goodness of each human self?. This was occasionally noticed in the Imitation, but should it not have received much more attention? On this question two historical points should perhaps be made. First, the Imitation itself arose from the Devotio Moderna's care for many ordinary members of society who desired to cultivate a devout life amid late-medieval disruptions of Christian Europe (the Black Death and subsequent plagues, persistent warfare, economic hardship, the Great Western Schism).7 Out of their prolonged experience of public calamities came this first popular expression of the personal subject in the West--at least, among the little seg-ments of the population influenced by the "new devotion." The point for us here is that a faith response to those troubled times made possible an interior life for many more persons than before (including lay members living in the world). An inner self could then be cultivated by means of the careful religious teachings extended to them by The Imitation of Christ and similar writings of the movement. Thus, interiority was initial-ly a sacred realm, not a secular one. In order to develop at all, it had to define itself against the secular world. This meant, of course, that the self had precisely "nothing" of its own to fall back upon--no widely accepted norms of individual worth had as yet been formulated. The themes of individualism which we take for granted today as "natural" were simply not available in the Middle Ages. The Devotio Moderna may, in fact, have contributed notably to the first social expression of our individual sense of self. It follows that to blame it for not supplying what it was in the very process of begetting seems misguided. That would be reading history backward--a frequent modern failing. Secondly, it seems that the difference between selfhood (a good sense of self) and selfishness (a bad sense) had not as yet been separately felt. In that 488 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 sacred milieu the differentiation of a secular goodness of creation apart from the fallen condition so frequently stressed in spiritual teachings remained for the future to bring about. In other words, the self-in-its-own-being could not possibly then have been "tasted" distinctly from the self-as-sinful or the self-as- saved-by-grace (or both together). True enough, humility was sometimes considered apart from habits of sinfulness--namely in Mary and in the saints--but even there what received emphasis was the divine grace of their redemption (in Mary's case extending to her prior preservation) from sin's more normal dominion. These excep-tions only proved the rule that humility--as we hear its accents in the Imitation--arises from the sharpened interior taste of one's sinful self that usually follows upon forgiveness. In view of this cultural moment of The Imitation of Christ in the early fifteenth century, its lack of any emphasis on natural goodness for the indi-vidual self is understandabl~. It is true that, by the later sixteenth century, Montaigne's Essays and Shakespeare's Hamlet and Richard II had begun to anticipate modem feelings of individual selfhood, but this was still an excep-tional happening within the sacred medieval precincts, it may be said. So many developments have taken place in the centuries since that time--the Cartesian ego, theKantian turn to the subject, the Romantic movement, nineteenth-century liberalism, as well as the already mentioned "shift to interiority" ~ind countercultural movement in our own century, that we cannot have recourse solely to a retrieval of medieval gifts. In short, the new interiority of our day differs a great deal from the "interior life" handed down to us in our spiritual tradition. The old interiority was (a) fully sacred in meaning, (b) defined in opposition to the "world," (c) low in self-esteem while high in reliance on God alone, and (d) rarely to be shared with others socially. By contrast, the new interiority is (a) mainly sec-ular in meaning, (b) defined against the mainline institutions of society (including those of the Church), (c) self-affirming and self-accepting, even if admitting one's need of friends and of the divine Other, and (d) eagerly shared with others in public lifestyles. Like many others, in my Jesuit formation I was often counseled to ignore, set aside, or "offer up" my individual feelings as distracting or, more likely, harmful to my fuller appropriation of the uniform spiritual teachings provided. These latter consisted in learning the general answers true for everyone alike and in keeping the rules set down for all without exception. That way of forming members, as we know, has been in great part aban-doned in recent decades. In any case, it had introduced painful distortions into our medieval heritage. Choosing to be 'Just Ordinary" / 489 The main "warp" in question was directly related, I believe, to the nine-teent~ h-century rise of the "strong self" already mentioned. Let me briefly review that development. As I have noted, humility had traditionally been ~'ocused on the sinful condition of those converted to the Lord. It did not dwell merely on mortal sins committed prior to their deeper conversion, but much more on the venial sins which they came to recognize in present self-awareness. This medieval tradition may be gathered in detail from Alphonsus Rodriguez's Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues.8 Against that backdrop the modem ideal of a "strong sell" to be fash-ioned in youth by anyone hoping to succeed in the secular world, or even to survive in it, presented a considerable contrast. Prior to 1965, our Catholic parishes and schools managed to combine this modem requirement (a strong selfhood formed in the conscious mind through repression of deeper feel-ings) With traditional teachings on humility (reliance on God alone because of personal sinfulness and the "nothingness" of self). This was made easier by means of the invisible wall erected around the distinctly Catholic world. By the later nineteenth century, of course, Christian faith had already become to a large extent privatized, separated from public life and domesticated in family and parish activities. For Catholics in North America, the immigrant Church had developed its own "garrison" mentality so effective!y that one could cultivate a traditionally humble self in the narrowly religious realm and at the same time a secularly aggressive self in the business, professional, political, or broadly social realm. That was the religious situation in which I was raised, and I did not then advert to its inconsistencies. Perhaps many others today can recall this com-bination of strivings. However opposite they were in character, we tried to attain them both and to some extent we succeeded--by the grace of God. In recent decades that whole effort has disappeared and as a result (among many other quandaries) a whole spectrum of possible selves has become available today. It is a somewhat unsettling set of choices. But amidst all our struggles to find or fashion personal identities (or perhaps to fortify older ways in the very teeth of these developments), the curious new event has made its presence felt--the "just ordinary" feeling. Contemporary Faith Responses At this point I wish to bring into our discussion a distinction rather dif-ferent from any mentioned so far. In a recent book, Hopkins, the Self and God, Walter Ong, S.J., has emphasized the "taste of self" which figured so prominently in Gerard Hopkins's poetry, letters, and notebooks.9 As a chap- 490 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 ter on the Victorian context makes clear, the theme was not unusual even then. But Hopkins, because of his unique attention to it and extraordinary gifts of language and feeling, managed to anticipate many of our present concerns. The distinction employed by Fr. Ong in his discussion is between the self as "I" or "me" in the densely concrete, subjective stance underlying all one's experiences and, on the other hand, the self as objectified in various characteristics, habitual attitudes, and acquired abilities. Ong names the first of these "the subject-self' and the second "the self-concept"--a terminology already in use. More is meant than merely a difference between subjective and objec-tive qualities of the self. The so-called "objective" side points to an individu-al's attempts to gain a sense of developing identity--at first through the reactions :of other people, and then through one's own continued striving. Often a variety of contrasting possibilities are "tried on for size" and lived out for a time, but later modified or rejected. But underneath every such effort lurks a richer source of seifhood that unifies the ongoing and often interrupted sequence. Moreover, the subject-self also feels--at least indirectly--the inadequa-cy of whatever aspects of self-conception are presently entertained. The lat-ter are never quite right. There is always a certain sense of"more to come": Why do I doubt my capacity to keep this up any longer? Maybe I should change my mind about the whole business? Or am I trapped in a "fate" of being the way I am?l° And as soon as some new aspect of the self gains initial clarity, there is often a tendency to react in a different direction. Even if I should rejoice in a rather flattering or at least affirmative symbol of myself, my subconscious feelings may tend to exert a counterinfluence. Or if snubbed by others or blamed in any way, I might resent it at several levels at once (despite a ten-dency to self-doubt), but I will also search for memories of my better qualities. A great variety of varying patterns of such "identity searches" may be noted in spiritual direction. But what I wish to stress here is the unifying "I" in every pattern or in every sequence of changing patterns over years of per-sonal growth. "I" am the enduring (somehow even unchanging?) recipient, resource, and agent of all such reflexive feelings, perceptions, visions, and (as Eliot has taught us) endless revisions. For I am always the one who is unfinished. I exist amid processes that are ever moving me into uncertain futures. This mysterious "I" may be used, of course, in a way that includes the self-concept of my current identity. Most often the two blend together in my Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 49'1 experience of them. Wider, more inclusive self-affirmations are normal and even important. For the self-concept can never really be independent of the subject-self--the two functions are inherently connected and interactive. My various self-conceptions (especially at their least vague, most fully articulat-ed stages) need to be tested repeatedly in the subject-self. Do I feel at home in them? In fact, their authenticity becomes known only insofar as they truly actualize my subjectively felt potentials. On the other side, the subject-self cannot long endure without some kind of self-concept. Even when denied previous realizations in the social world, the subject-self may have recourse to fantasy roles in the theatre of imagina-tion. For I cannot avoid notions of selfhood altogether--my neediness finds relief only in the movement to some form of self-realization, however indi-rect, implied, or even self-sacrificial it may become for a time. But what is new today for many persons is that 'T' may recurrently refer quite exclusively to the subject-self alone. In such cases the needful relation to identities is not denied but somehow "bracketed out" or "put on hold." This distinction appears to be called for by what I have named the "just ordi- ¯nary" feeling. More precisely, the "just ordinary" feeling belongs especially to the subject-self. Now, this distinction may unlock several, of the puzzling questions which arise .from our cultural situation today. It might resolve the problem for all who try to decide whether or not--even precisely as a Christian-- they should choose to be "just ordinary." Not Mediocrity, but Limitation A first question to be faced concerns mediocrity. If one settles into a "just ordinary" feeling of oneself, would this not bring an end to growth, to any serious striving for improvement? Would it not ring the death knell of idealism (in a good sense)? Would it banish from the competitive society believers who chose to accept it--as though our economic system as such is inherently alien? Even more traditional spiritualities sought to refute the accusation that Christian faith necessarily inclined believers to accept the established pow-ers and to resign themselves to exploitation by cle4er elites (Marx's "opium of the people" view about the role of religion in society). But that false use of Christian faith is not in question here. If a devout life means acceptance of manipulation and coercion by others, then it has simply lost its roots in the prophetic teachings of Christ. Instead, what is relevant here is the insight that only the subject-self can feel "just ordinary." Such a feeling cannot rightly belong to the self-concept. 499 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 My position is that only insofar as one becomes aware of one's "purely" sub-jective selfhood in contrast to current or possible fulfillments of one's poten-tials (the self-concept always means that) does the "just ordinary" feeling arise in the first place. It would follow, then, that for persons who do not experience this newish feeling (and no one is required to do so!) a decision to be "just ordinary" might mean choosing to be mediocre. That is not the case, however, for those who do recognize the new feel-ing in themselves; what they experience, I would say, is a new sense of per-sonal limits. No doubt, our knowledge of limitations is pluriform. Each person would tend to stress different aspects of the overall human "contin-gency" (its more technical name) as this comes home to individual lives. Limits are reached in our work, our relationships, our different life-stages, our suffering of reverses, rejections, sickness, injuries, or close encounters with death and dying: Our knowledge and abilities have a great variety of limitations, but so do our energies and our capacity for making creative responses. There are traditional ways of coming to know and accept our littleness, but what I have in mind here gives a different resonance to these more familiar events. In Western cultures it may seem natural to invest one's whole identity in a career role, with its achievements, or with honors already received (here the "strong self" makes its presence felt). But against this tendency I find it possible, like Hopkins, to identify mainly with my subject-self--even though my developed talents, skills, and other acquisitions (whatever their true worth) may be kept in view. I do not deny the crucial importance of these factors in my life as a whole. But I know I could lose all use of them if I suffered a grave stroke or a debilitating heart attack, for example. And throughout that illness, whose effects could be long-lasting, I would contin-ue to experience myself as "me"--a limited person, unique in my special taste of self, the same as I was as a child and teenager, and surely to remain so until death. If I am unable to make this sort of self-identification, but insist on claiming my developed self-concept as the only true "me," the danger is that a debilitating illness may tend to destroy me altogether. And those who live into old age, even if they never suffer a health crisis of the dramatic sort mentioned, may eventually experience their subject-self as "just ordinary"-- stripped of any actual use of their various gifts. In traditional Christian teaching our need for reliance on God will nor-mally be heightened and dramatized by major experiences of suffering (',limit" situations). This will surely continue to exert a central influence on personal realizations of Christ's paschal mystery. The unusual note to be Choosing to be "Just Ordinary '" / 493 sounded here, however, concerns the dimension of selfhood which our cul-tural moment may be bringing alive. The 'T' whom Jesus calls and unites to himself, the "I" who undergoes spiritual deaths and who may then receive new life in the risen Lord--this 'T' may now choose to identify with "just ordinary" feelings rather than either "nothing" or "something good denied." It is a form of limited selfhood available today to a much larger number of persons than ever before. Humility in a New Key As cultural events bring forward different ways of experiencing not only the humanized world but also the human subject in and by whom the world is humanized, individuals growing aware of their own gifts are always exposed to new dangers from pride. In his "Two Standards," we remember, St. Ignatius highlights the time-honored medieval teaching that pride is the source and origin of every other vice, and that humility, as St. Bernard puts it, is "the foundation and safeguard of all virtues." It follows that the emer-gence of a "just ordinary" feeling raises another question: precisely what effect might this have on our traditional sense of what the virtue of humility requires? No doubt, the rise of modern democracies brought a stronger emphasis on equality into social relations in the West (in contrast to earlier ideals of "subordination," of submission to those in higher orders). Every member, rich or poor, is supposed to stand on the same ground, in a civil sense as well as "before God," as every other member. But this opened the way to compe-tition in the public "free marketplace," where the many levels of social clas-sification become even more clearly marked than in the premodern world. Personal evaluations and interpersonal judgments are so much more intense than previously that the "neurotic" society of our day has become familiar to US.11 In this context modern teachings on humility tended to stress the differ-ence between the office and the office holder. And this traditional distinction was often combined with a focus on teamwork or group contributions. In sports, the heroes who score the highest number of points, even the winning goals, humbly acknowledge the help of their teammates and the glory of the whole team, rather than their individual merits. In short, modern humility consists mainly in putting oneself down. Self-abasement, especially after some signs of achievement appear in the struggle for success over others, is felt to be essential. This means that humility and humiliation are closely approximated in modern competitive societies. But in the postmodern world (if that is where we are today) many are 494 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 beginning to sense their subjective distance from the very structures of suc-cess and achievement themselves. Perhaps this is why human vulnerability and powerlessness have received so much attention in recent years. If I am right in this--to some extent and for some members only, of course--then the "just ordinary" feeling would denote an ability to experience self-worth independently of competition for successful contributions in the established institutions of the world. When the feeling does mean that, I would argue in favor of seeking to realize it in one's life. This would not necessarily signify nonparticipation in the large struc-tures of society--whether in business, politics, sports, communications, or whatever. But it could qualify the style of our participation because our main sense of self would no longer consist in whatever we might be able to achieve. To gain this rather sophisticated balance, of course, might not always be easy. It would mean learning how to give one's whole energies to highly skilled performances without pinning one's sense of self to success in performing well. Whatever the-degree of success or failure realized over time, those who contribute would continue to experience themselves to be "just ordinary" members of a community which regularly affirms their worth on a basis other than that of competition, success, or failure. This would bring a newish tone, a new chord, I think, to the age-old music of humility. Sacred and Secular Community The "just ordinary" feeling may also raise a question because of its very secularity. Normally the Church lives in a certa{n state of tension with the secular society in which its witness to Christ's message is to be given. But the quality of that "creative tension" can vary a great deal. In our day the tension may disappear whenever a new secular discovery affecting human growth is announced in a book or magazine, or its virtues are proclaimed in the media. It may then be taken up by skilled practitioners and made available in local programs. In recent decades we have received many such gifts. An example might be the interpretation of dreams by means of Jung's psychological theories. This can become quite an interesting activity, valu-able in itself. But there is a danger that believers who are attracted to it may then transfer most of their religious energies to essentially secular programs of this kind (think, too, of the many self-help groups claiming attehtion today) and thereafter give little attention to more central Christian practices. In particular, our own question concerns the "just ordinary" feeling. Is it another "brand-new discovery" of the type just mentioned? Does it not sug-gest a secular facet of human life which may all too easily replace more Choosing to be 'Just Ordinary" / 495 authentic 'teachings? Are we simply "shaking holy water" on secular objects and calling them Christian? I would reply that, while its potential misuses are undeniable, its right use may also be safeguarded if the underlying issue is kept clearly in sight-- the issue of the human call to transcendence. I will conclude this essay by exploring that deeper concem. At one level we remember that any new discovery may be claimed by Christian faith because all that is human belongs to God the Creator. Thus, we may recognize and welcome every fresh gift of human expertise, inte-grate it within the larger faith (making it subordinate, not dominant), and in this manner sanctify all things in Christ. No doubt this should be so. But at a deeper level of analysis the question arises in a new form because secularity (secular realities taken in a good sense, as differing from secularism) is always related to the sacred as its opposite. In this way Judaism and Christianity themselves initiated a radical process of secularization. For us the world is no longer "full of gods" since we believe in the one Creator who is beyond all created things (transcen-dent). Our faith has secularized the cosmos. Later on in history the civilized world, too, took further giant steps on the same journey. In great part today our political, economic, social, and cultural institutions are experienced not as immediately God-given but as humanly devised. In this more radical sense, then, whenever ongoing secularization enables a new gift of human life to be realized, the sacred powers of tradi-tional faith need to be adapted to the new situation. What had formerly been handled indirectly by religious beliefs has now come directly (even if incom-pletely) under human management. In faith we may welcome such events as fulfillments of God's intentions in creating humans "in his own image and likeness" (that is, cocreative with him). But we also note an important clue: there should be no change in secularity without a corresponding change in sacrality. The frequent failure here is a simple transfer of energies from the sacred into the secular realm while reducing religious operations to empty words alone. More specifically, if the emergence of "just ordinary" feelings can bring new aspects of human existence within the range of human competency, then we may rejoice in this prospect on condition that a corresponding, positive change occurs in our sense of specifically sacred gifts. But if the change should be merely negative, a loss of religious energies, then something has gone wrong. For example, the work of Carl Rogers and others on self-actualization and self-realization has an obvious bearing on our topic, but even here the 496 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 "just ordinary" feeling takes the process a step further, I think. All of these factors, we should remember, are secularizations of human powers which previously had been contained or implied within sacred gifts. 12 In Gerard Hopkins's poetry the sacred envelope remained untorn: Each mortal thing does one thing and the same: Deals out that being indoors each one dwells; Selves--goes itself; myself it speaks and spells, Crying What I do is me: for that I came. I say more: the just man justices; Keeps grace: that keeps all his goings graces; Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is-- Christ--for Christ plays in ten thousand places, Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his . 13 Even more to the point are his famous closing lines in another poem: In a flash, at a trumpet clash, I am all at once what Christ is, since he was what I am, and This Jack, joke, poor potsherd, patch, matchwood, immortal diamond, Is immortal diamond. 14 The eternal worth to be realized at last in Christ is anticipated by a believer who knows his subject-self as "poor potsherd" and "matchwood." Surely this comes close to our "just ordinary" feeling even if its validation depends on faith in the resurrection. If we look back to Hopkins, we can per-ceive its secular potentials lurking within his very religious lines. In any case, now that it has emerged to stand on its own feet in our midst, we are challenged to respond afresh in faith to a new aspect of human self-realization. We may rejoice inthis event, but without a positive religious response of some kind the 16ss of transcendence becomes palpable. We may happily accept the growth of a human value, but its simultaneous excision from religious meanings calls for new initiatives, for real adaptations which do not downgrade the relevance of our transcendent faith but rather give it fresh impetus, redirecting its energies in new ways. Two principles may be l~ormulated in this regard. I have already been exploring the first of these, which might be put as follows: The Principle of Adaptation: Every new growth of secular competence should stimulate a corresponding renewal of sacred powers. The second may'be named: The Principle of Intensity: In our creative response to a given process of secularization, one important criterion would be a specific heighten-ing, rather than any lessening, in the experience of transcendence. Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 497 Whenever the Christian component is subtly reduced to a comfortable repetition of now irrelevant phrases, this second principle has been ignored. The urgency of transcendent faith for human affairs can easily be diminished without any advertence to its loss. Our "just ordinary" feeling, for example, simply cries out for creative faith responses. But what are these to be? That is the real issue. Will our sense of Christian humility be intensifie~l instead of being replaced? What fresh meaning can we now give to the crucial "poverty of spirit" which indicates membership in the Lord's kingdom? The heightened subjectivity that often seems to afflict us may also serve to awaken creative potentials previously unknown. Even though it makes us experience our human limits as never before, our acceptance of "just ordi-nary" feelings could, in fact, lead to new dimensions of liberation. But this will not be automatic. Our spiritual behavior will need to adjust itself cre-atively to the new gift. Possible responses are always at hand. Whenever in faith the members of our new communities reflect upon the significance of feeling "just ordinary" togetherl I believe the Real Presence of the risen Christ may receive a fresh emphasis. This heightened communal awareness may correspond in a unique way to our traditional poverty of spir-it. Precisely here a new intensity of faith may be gathering force. During the nineteen-twenties T.S. Eliot insistently employed the symbol of the Angelus bell, a traditional reminder of the moment of Incarnation. In that extraordinary instant, and whenever it is made present to us today, tran-scendent powers cut through the secular time dimension to disturb our mod-em preoccupations. In similar fashion a few decades earlier, wher~ striving to resist new inroads of modernity Pope Pius X led Catholic parishes to give renewed attention to the Real Presence in the Eucharist (mainly as reserved in the tabernacle or received during Holy Communion). Whatever judgments we may wish to pass upon those earlier modes of resis-tance, it seems clear that a creative response for today will need to focus on the Eucharist as an action performed by the whole community. We may be able to enter the eucharistic action as full participants because we surrender in faith to the Lord who makes his Real Presence felt in our ways of relating to one another. The "just ordinary" feeling may be chosen as a means to that effective recognition. When in a small faith community the members have learned how to act and speak out of their newfound sense of ordinary selfhood, all their gifts may be appreciated warmly and without exaggeration. They can be put into action zestfully since the members are set free from the anxieties of personal competition. Each one's acceptance by all the others may become intensified through the distinctly felt presence of the risen Lord in their community today--not merely by anticipat.ing the Second Coming. 498 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 In short, we are being graced, membered in a new life, invigorated, and turned in hope to the future by this much more active presence of Christ. That intensification of God's "reigning" in us may correspond accurately and be found to dovetail beautifully with the newly released "just ordinary" feelings of the members about themselves. NOTES l Method in Theology, New York: Herder & Herder, 1972, pp. 257-262. 2 On this distinction see Robert Bellah and others, Habits of the Heart, Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: Univ. of California Press, 1985, pp. 32-35 and passim. 3 SeeThomas ~ Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, trans. Wm. Creasy, Notre Dame, Ind.: Ave Maria Press, 1989; "Introduction," pp. 11-13. Also Devotio Moderna: Basic Writings, trans. J. van Engen, New York: Paulist Press, 1988; "Introduction," p. 8: "The Imitation of Christ has undoubtedly proved the most influential devotional book in Western Christian history." It has also been translated into all the great lan-guages of the world. 4 Book I, chap. 28; trans. Creasy, p. 32. 5 Book III, chap. 8; trans. Creasy, p. 95. 6 Book III, chap. 14; trans. Creasy, p. 102. 7 Details are given in J. Leclercq, E Vandenbrouke, L. Bouyer, The Spirituality of the Middle Ages (vol. 11 of The History of Christian Spirituality), London: Bums & Oates, 1968, pp. 481-486 (text by F. Vandenbrouke). 8 Trans. Joseph Rickaby, S.J., Chicago: Loyola Univ. Press, 1929; vol. II, pp. 165- 352: "The Eleventh Treatise: On Humility." See chap. IIl: "Of Another Main Motive for a Man to. gain Humility, which is the Consideration of His Sins." (The first main motive, given in chap. II, is "To know oneself to be full of miseries and weak-nesses.") 9 Walter J. Ong, S.J., Hopkins, the Self, and God, Toronto, Buffalo, London: Univ. of Toronto Press, 1986; see especially pp. 22-28. For a recent philosophical discus-sion see Frederick Copleston, S.J., The Tablet, 11 Nov. 1989 (vol. 243, no. 7791), pp. 1302-1303. l0 Cited by Alphonsus Rodriguez, Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues, p. 168, see n. 8, above. Chap. II, "That Humility is the Foundation of All Virtues," pp. 168-170; chap. III, "In Which It Is Shown More in Detail How Humility Is the Foundation of All Virtues, by Going Through the Chief of Them." ~l On this, see Bellah and others, Habits of the Heart (n. 2, above), pp. 117-121, for its development in the U.S.A. But similar versions of "modem nervousness" and "therapeutic culture" could be gathered from the other Western traditions (Continental, English, Canadian.). ~2 Confer Paul C. Vitz, Psychology As Religion, Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1977, pp. 20-27, for a discussion of Carl Rogers, Abraham Maslow, and Rollo May as moving from religious into secular concerns. Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 499 ~3 The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins, ed. W.H. Gardiner and N.H. MacKenzie, 4th ed., London: Oxford Univ. Press, 1967; poem no. 57, p. 90. 14 Ibid, poem no. 72, p. 106. The Hunter Yahweh's manifest love has all the proud and fierce majesty of a turkey buzzard flying with outstretched wings upon hot afternoon breezes, which are thrust upward unconstrained from ocher grabens below. This carnivorous bird is the other side of the symbolic dove. It is the Master of the Universe when he is not content waiting for hesitant or indifferent souls who fail to seek him. Rather, he becomes the strident hunter pursuing those who choose hiding in dark shadows caused by lichen-covered trees, or along cow-trodden riverbanks, where brown mud oozes into slowly flowing, opaque waters. Yahweh spreads his wings, searches for the goats and lambs, such as you and me, when we forget how to look for him circling over us in the translucent sky. Brother Richard Heatley, F. S. C. De La Salle, "Oaklands" 131 Farnham Avenue Toronto, Ontario Canada M4A 1H7 At the Threshold of a Christian Spirituality: Ira Progoff's Intensive Journal Method John McMurry, S. S Father John McMurry, S.S., cun'ently serves at the St. Mary's Spiritual Center and as a spiritual director for St. Mary's Seminary and University in Baltimore, Maryland. He has taken part in thirty workshops led by Dr. Ira Progoff since 1976, and he has led some sixty Intensive Journal workshops since 1978. His address is All Saints Church; 4408 Liberty Heights Avenue; Baltimore, Maryland 21207. Since 1978 1 have been teaching Ira Progoff's Intensive Journal method occasionally at weekend workshops. Dialogue House, the umbrella organiza-tion covering all of Progoff's works, describes his method as a program of "professional and personal growth with a spiritual point of view." It is a non-analytic means for individuals to attain two goals. First, it enables individu-als to recognize and accept the wholeness of their life without denying the reality of any of its contents, no matter how unpleasant or embarrassing. Secondly, it enables individuals to get a feel for the consistency in the direc-tion that their life is taking as they discover potentials for the future hidden within their personal past. The goals of the program are attained by means of a variety of written exercises which are done in a group setting under the direction of an experi-enced leader who is committed to follow authorized guidelines. Individuals in the group work in private with the contents of their own life. The only prereq-uisites are an atmosphere of quiet and mutual respect, and an attitude of open-ness and acceptance on the part of each exercitant toward his or her own life. The program is not only nonanalytic; it is also nonjudgmental and is structured to help people experientially discover answers to questions such as the following: Where am I in the course of my life right now? How did I get to the place where I am in the course of life? Where is my life trying to go from here? What is the next step? 500 Progoffs Intensive Journal Method / 501 The Intensive Journal method itself has no content. The method is a dynamic structure to which each person supplies the content from one's own life. The structure aims at enabling individuals to establish deeper contact with the flow of creative energy in their own life. It is especially useful for people engaged in decision-making, for people who feel confused about the next step in life, for those who have lost contact with the direction their life wants to take, for those who feel alienated, isolated, or meaningless, and for those who simply want to expand their personal horizons of creativity. In creating the Intensive Journal program, Progoff had in mind people in a secular culture who are unfamiliar with or alienated by traditional religious language. However, the awarenesses stimulated by the exercises of his method serve to help Christians experience meaning in traditional doctrines which might otherwise remain merely propositional. In the case of people who approach it from the perspective of faith, the Intensive Journal program is a form of prayer. The Intensive Journal Method as Prayer In a chapter entitled "Prayer as Dialogue," Karl Rahner discusses prayer in terms apropos of the Intensive Journal method. He is addressing a com-mon problem of people who are earnest in their efforts to enter into dialogue with God. They often state the problem something like this: "When I pray, I cannot tell whether I am talking to myself or to God." Rahner challenges the presupposition that God says "something" to us in prayer. He raises some "what-ifs": What if we were to say that in prayer we experience ourselves as the utterance of God, ourselves as arising from and decreed by God's freedom in the concreteness of our existence? What if what God primarily says to us is ourselves in the facticity of our past and present and in the freedom of our future? Rahner concludes that when, by grace, we experience ourselves as the utterance of God to himself and understand this as our true essence, which includes the free grace of God's self-communication, and when in prayer we freely accept our existence as the word of God in which God promises him-self to us with his word, then our prayer is already dialogic, an exchange with God. Then we hear ourself as God's address. We do not hear "some-thing" in addition to ourself as the one already presupposed in our dead fac-ticity, but we hear ourself as the self-promised word in which God sets up a listener and to which God speaks himself as an answer. 1 Rahner is suggesting that God's word to me in prayer is not an idea; rather, God's word to me in prayer'is myself, that is, my personal, individual life story--past, present, and future. The implication is that my life story is 502 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 important in my relationship with God because it is the way God speaks to me and I to God. A further implication of Rahner's proposal is that I enter into dialogue with God ipsofacto under three conditions: 1) when I experience my life story as God's word addressed to himself; 2) when at the same time I understand that God is really present in my actual life story--past, present, and future-- as a free and undeserved gift of himself to me; 3) and when I freely accept my life story as the word of God in which God promises his Word to me. The Intensive Journal program is an instrument which lends itself to the discovery of the real presence of God in one's own personal life story. The content of the program is the content of the life of the Journal-writer; hence it is through the life of the Journal-writer that Christian faith may enter into the individual's use of the Intensive Journal exercises. Progoff has described the prayer dimension of his method as follows: The Intensive Journal work is indeed a species of prayer and meditation, but not in isolation from life and not in contrast to active life involve-ment. Rather, it is meditation in the midst of the actuality of our life experiences. It draws upon the actualities of life for new awarenesses, and it feeds these back into the movement of each life as a whole.2 The Intensive Journal Method and Spirituality In his "handbook of contemporary spirituality," Rahner raises the ques-tion whether the term "spirituality" is good, understandable, useful, or even has any meaning. Then he makes the observation that the crucial point for personal and pastoral life today is not so much a matter of getting the "spiri-tual" dimension of existence into our heads or other people's by means of abstract and conceptual indoctrination (which he says is ineffective anyway) as it is a matter of discovering the Spirit as that which we really experience in ourselves.3 Perhaps Rahner slightly understates the case. It may be that the crucial point for us personally and in our pastoral work today is simply to discover "the Spirit" as a fact of our own personal experience and to help others do the same. Furthermore, in order to be able to use the word "spirituality," we might let it refer simply to the individual's .relationship with God or, in other words, to what goes on in the creative process between God and each of us. This article presents Ira Progoff's Intensive Journal program as an aid to the process which is going on between an individual and God. The program adds no content to the life of the individual; it mirrors the movement which is already going on and stimulates that movement by feeding new aware- Progoffs Intensive Journal Method / 503 nesses back into the movement of life. ("Journal feedback" is one of the main features which distinguish this method from an ordinary diary.) This program, then, is a dynamic structure for evoking self-transcendence from the factual contents of a life story. For a person of faith it is a way of discov-ering the Spirit "as what we really experience in ourselves." Genesis of the Intensive Journal Method Following Progoff's discharge from the U.S. Army, he earned a doctor-ate in the area of'the history of ideas from the New School of Social Research in New York City. On the basis of his dissertation, Jung's Psychology and Its Social Meaning, published in 1953 and still in print, Progoff was awarded grants for postdoctoral studies with Carl Jung for two years. By virtue of those studies Progoff was licensed as a therapist by the state of New York, where he went into private practice after returning from Switzerland. In 1959 Progoff founded the Institute for Research in Depth Psychology at Drew University in New Jersey and served as its director until 1971. During those twelve years-he and his graduate students searched out the dynamics of creativity in published biographies of creative people whose life stories had ended. From his research Progoff concluded that creativity occurs through the interplay among various dimensions of life which may at first seem disparate. On the surface it may appear that the process in one dimension is unrelated to the process in another dimension, whereas in fact something new comes into being when the individual makes correlations among the dimensions of life. It is as though the individual is a complexus of certain processes which occur throughout life on different planes. Progoff has developed, the Intensive Journal method over more than a quarter-century of helping his clients apply the fruits of his research by dis-covering hidden sources of creativity within their own lives. He began teach-ing his method to groups in the late 1950s. In 1975 he published At a Journal Workshop, a thorough description of his haethod up to that time. In 1980 he published a companion volume, The Practice of Process Meditation, which added another dimension to the program. Dimensions of Human Existence In Progoff's view, the artist is paradigmatic. Each individual is both the artist and the ultimate artwork of life, and yet individuals execute the art-work which is themselves by engaging in outer activity which has inner meaning for the one doing it and beneficial consequences for society. In other words, in order for each of us to be fulfilled as an individual, we must 504 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 do some work (opus as distinguished from labor) which is both personally and socially meaningful. At the same time as we are creating our lifework, the doing of the work is creative of us. The basic dialogue of life is the dynamic actual (as distinguished from logical) dialogue between human cre-ators and their works. In Progoff's words, "Outward activity propelled from within is the essence of creative existence.''4 From his research on the lives of creative people Progoff learned to dis-tinguish certain dimensions of life as loci of the components of creativity. The Intensive Journal method recognizes those dimensions as sources of the raw material of creativity in anybody's life, They are the dimensions of time, ¯ of relationships, and of personal symbols. The Intensive Journal workbook uses color-coded dividers to mark off various sections in each of which the Journal-writer deals with the move-ment in one particular dimension of life. Within each of the main sections are tabbed subdividers of the same color as the main divider. Each tab bears the name of the specific exercise to be entered there. For example, the "Life/Time Dimension" is indicated by a red divider and contains four tabbed red subdividers; each of the four tabs bears the title of the written exercise to be entered there by the Journal writer. Similarly, the dimension of personal relationships in life, called the "Dialogue Dimension," is indicated by an orange divider and comprises five tabbed subdividers for each of the five "dialogue exercises." The part of the Intensive Journal workbook for making entries which deal with dreams and personal imagery is called the "Depth Dimension." It is indicated by a blue divider and five tabbed blue subdividers. In summary, the workbook comprises sections which reflect and stimu-late the movement of an individual life in each of its dimensions. Each of the main sections of the workbook represents a dimension of life and comprises several subsections for various written exercises which deal with the con- "tents of that life in styles appropriate to that particular dimension. The Dimension of Life/Time We do not get the chance to start life over, but the Intensive Journal pro-gram does offer us a tested means of restructuring our life from the perspec-tive of the present. At the same time it provides a means of discovering unactualized potentials which we may have overlooked the first time around, or which were not ripe then and may at some point in time be able to take a form they could not have taken originally. In studying the biography of a deceased person generally recognized as creative, the end or goal of that career may be clear and unmistakable, even Progof['s Intensive Journal Method / 505 though the lif'e story includes setbacks, stalls, reversals, and obstacles. It may be easy to see how everything in that life was leading up to some great scientific or philosophical work because we are viewing it from the perspec-tive of the end. But what if I am the life story I am working with? In that case the life process is still in progress. I am not looking at a still photograph but a mov-ing picture, and I am looking at it from the inside. In that case I start with the present epoch of my personal life and get a feel for this period of life from the inside. That is, I allow myself to feel the quality or tone of my life during this present period and record it objectively. The record I make of the pre-sent period will be an objective statement of my subjective experience of life at present. Then I am in a position to allow the course of my life to present itself to me from the perspective of the present in the form of about a dozen significant events. Each of those significant events serves to characterize a whole period of life. Of course, many other things also happened during that period. There are other exercises for dealing with them. The idea in this exercise is to get a feel for the wholeness and continuity of my life as I allow it to present itself to me in an articulated form so that I can use other Journal exercises to deal with it one period at a time. All the Intensive Journal exercises presuppose the attitude of openness and receptivity mentioned above, a nonjudgmental attitude toward life. It is not so much the objective contents of a life that affect its degree of creativi-ty, as the subjective attitude toward that life. In the creative restructuring of a life, a relaxed, friendly approach which allows surprises is important. Dimension of Relationships In the life/time dimension treated above, there is a principle of whole-ness, continuity, and direction,toward-a-goal at work. In the dimension of relationships, the dynamic is that of dialogue, that is, the give-and-take of equals listening and responding to each other in a spirit of mutual trust and acceptance. The principle of "dialogue relationship" applies first of all to significant people during various epochs of life. The. same dynamic applies analogously to meaningful work-projects (opera), which, like persons, seem to have a life of their own. In his research on creative lives, Progoff discovered that creativity occurs when people approach several kinds of meaningful contents of their life not as inert matter to be manipulated but as personal entities. That is, he discovered that creativity occurs when people acknowledge that each of sev-eral meaningful contents of their life has a life story of its own analogous to 506 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 that of a person. Each of these contents of life has a life story with blockages to growth toward a goal, with hopes, disappointments, successes, and so forth. He found that for the sake of movement toward acceptance of life and all it holds, it is of paramount importance to establish a "dialogue rel~ition-ship" not only with persons and works but witl~ the physical and societal dimensions of life, and with events, situations, and circumstances of life which "just happen." Progoff's research into de facto creative lives yielded two important corollaries. First, the movement which the dialogue relationship fosters is intrinsic to the "creative spirit. Secondly, in the dimension of relationships as well as in other dimensions of life, the factual contents of life are less impor-tant in the creative process than the way people relate to whatever the con-tents of their life are. The "Dialogue Dimension" of the Intensive Journal workbook offers a format for a variety of exercises which enable the Journal writer to engage in written dialogue with people who have played meaningful roles in their life, with work projects, their own body, sources of values in their life (v.g., fami-ly, ethnicity, religious commitment), and things over which they had no con-trol. The purpose of these dialogue scripts is to give a voice to the meaningful contents of life, that is, to provide them a forum in which mutu-ality can flourish in the form of a "dialogue relationship" rather than a mere-ly utilitarian relationship. This leaves the Journal writer open to the possibility of something new emerging from an old relationship from the past. That new something may contribute an insight or an awareness which is of benefit to another relationship or which creatively affects the movement in another dimension of life. The Dimension of Inner Symbols This dimension of life refers to dreams, "twilight imagery" and personal wisdom-figures as the vehicles which come forward spontaneously to carry the movement of life further. The aim of the exercises in this part of the Journal, called the "Depth Dimension," is to facilitate spontaneous correla-tions between inner imagery and outer life so that new insights, awarenesses, and possibilities for action and decision-making might come to the surface of consciousness. Then, by means of appropriate Journal exercises, they can be fed back into the ongoing movement of life and thus stimulate growth by creating new configurations in the way things fit together in life. Progoff tends to shy away from the use of dreams in his method because many people seem unable to deal with them except analytically. The Intensive Journal method of working with dreams is basically to allow the movement Progoffs Intensive Journal Method / 507 in a recurring dream or in a cluster of dreams to suggest some correlation with movement in one of the other dimensions of life. Then the exercitant may use appropriate Journal exercises to work in that dimension of life. The Fourth Dimension: The Spiritual As mentioned above, Progoff sees the Intensive Journal work in geoeral as "a species of prayer and meditation., in the midst of the actuality of our life experiences." However, he came to appreciate the role of the spiritual dimension in creativity only after he had developed Journal exercises in the three dimensions of life treated briefly above. The specifically spiritual dimension is reflected in his program as the dimension of meaning. The procedures for working in that dimension are called "Process Meditation." In the Intensive Journal program, formal work in this dimension is reserved for those who have already taken part in the "Life Context Workshop," which deals with the three dimensions of life treated above. As Rahner has said, "A basic and original transcendental experience is really rooted [in] a finite spirit's subjective and free experience of itself.''5 The "process" of "Process Meditation" refers to "the principle of conti-nuity in the universe" which is found on three levels: the cosmic, the s6ci-etal, and the personally interior.6 The Intensive Journal method helps the individual relate to "process" on the interior level. The movement of life in the three dimensions treated above is character-istically movement toward personal wholeness and the integration of the individual with oneself. Progoff calls that movement "core creativity." "In terms of individual lives," he writes, "the essence of process in human expe-rience lies in the continuity of its movement toward new integrations, the formation of new holistic units [of life/time].''7 In the spiritual dimension of life the movement is characterized by rela-tionships which transcend the core creativity of the individual. The roots of such relationships--even the personal relationship of the individual to God--are to be found in the stuff of everyday life, but at a deeper than ordi-nary level. Rahner speaks of the knowledge of God as "concrete, original, histori-cally constituted, and transcendental." He further says that such knowledge of God "is inevitably present in the depths of existence in the most ordinary human life.''8 Progoff interprets "meditation" broadly. In his usage it refers to whatev-er methods or practices one uses in the effort to reach out toward meaning. "The essence of meditation," he says, "lies in its intention, in its commit- 508 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 ment to work inwardly to reach into the depths beyond the doctrines of our beliefs.''9 Hence, "Process Meditation" refers to a set of exercises which draw on the individual exercitant's intimations or experiences of connected-ness to the principle of continuity in the universe. Progoff describes his method of Process Meditation as follows: Our basic procedure is to reenter the process by which our individual spiritual history has been moving toward meaning . We reenter that pro-cess so as to reconnect ourselves with the inner principle of its move-ment, and especially so that we can take a further step toward the artwork that is our personal sense of meaning,l° Conclusion In a review of The Practice of Process Meditation, William V. Dych, S.J., translator of Rahner into English, compares what Rahner calls "the uni-versal presence of grace and the Spirit" with Progoff's thesis that "there is in every human being an inner source of new light and life that expresses itself whenever the circumstances are right." Dych views Progoff's thesis as so supportive of Rahner's position that it would be hard to imagine a more pos-itive affirmation of it. ~ NOTES i Karl Rahner, The Practice of Faith: A Handbook of Contemporary Spirituality, ed. Karl Lehmann'and Albert Raffelt (New York: Crossroad, 1984), pp. 94-95. 1 Ira Progoff, The Practice of Process Meditation: The Intensive Journal Way to Spiritual Experience (New York: Dialogue House Library, 1980), p. 18. 3 Rahner, op cit, p. ! 86. 4 Ira Progoff, At a Journal Workshop: The Basic Text and Guide for Using the Intensive Journal (New York: Dialogue House Library, 1975), p. 35. 5 Karl Rahner, Foundations of Christian Faith: An Introduction to the Idea of Christianity, trans. William V. Dych (New York: The Seabury Press, 1978), p. 75. 6 Progoff, The Practice of Process Meditation, p. 40. 7 Ibid, p. 58. 8 Rahner, Foundations of Christian Faith, p. 57. 9 Progoff, The Practice of Process Meditation, p. 34. l0 Ibid, p. 82. II William V. Dych, "The Stream that Feeds the Well Within," Commonweal, 25 September 1981 Our Journey Inward: A Spirituality of Addiction and Recovery Maureen Conroy, R.S.M. Sister Maureen Conroy is co-director of the Upper Room Spiritual Center; EO. Box 1104; Neptune, New Jersey 07753. [~qany of us travel a great deal throughout our lives. With advanced means of transportation, traveling around the state, country, or world has become second nature to us. However, no matter how much or how far we travel, as we journey through life we discover that there is no journey more challeng-ing and scary than the journey inward, the journey to find true happiness and our most authentic self. We search for what is fulfilling and life-giving, but at times our searching takes us down the dark road of addictive behavior. We search for happiness in compulsive ways that deaden us rather than give us life--until we experience a desperate need for help. In this article I reflect on the darkness pervading the addictive process and some ways to journey through the darkness to our truer self. I discuss three aspects of our journey from addiction to recovery--woundedness and wholeness, powerlessness and surrender, and pain and compassion--and describe some dimensions of a spirituality of addiction and recovery related to these three aspects. A Spirituality of Woundedness and Wholeness As human beings God has given us the gifts of strength and freedom; we are called to live in the light. It is also true, however, that we are wounded, weak, vulnerable, broken people. We come from an environment of dark-ness. The brokenness in our ancestry and the dysfunction in our families has influenced our growth as free human beings. We are broken and we are in deep need of healing and redemption. We cannot save ourselves. In our addictive stance we want to avoid our woundedness, ignore our 509 510 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 weakness, and run from our vulnerability. We seek fulfillment through an object, a substance, or a process; that is, we form a pathological relationship with a mood-altering reality in order to find wholeness and happiness. We find it difficult to be honest about the dysfunction in our families and the brokenness in ourselves, so we look for something outside ourselves to keep us from facing our darkness. Spiritual growth and recovery, however, are just the opposite of this avoidance. To grow humanly and spiritually we must journey in and through our woundedness; we must face it head on. We need to feel the messiness of our brokenness and to discover God there. As Psalm 50 says, "a broken and humbled heart, O God, you will not spurn." We must discover that God's heart of love encompasses and holds as precious our wounded hearts, bodies, and spirits. It is through dwelling in our woundedness and vulnerability that we experience our authentic self and that we enable our addictive self to grow less powerful. We come to experience the child within and integrate our dark side with our light side. How do we make this journey in and through our woundedness? We do it by uncovering our addiction layer by layer. By this I mean we allow the walls of denial and layers of dishonesty to reveal themselves; we honestly appraise our unhealthy behaviorL Denial blocks our inner journey. It is a buffer against any reality thatis not acceptable to us, a way to protect our-selves from awareness of realities that are too difficult to face. Spiritual growth happens when we remove layer upon layer of denial that covers over our woundedness and our truer selves. Rather than avoiding our wounds, we need to expose them to the fresh air, to expose our broken hearts to the heal-ing .heart of God, to bring our darkness out into the light of day, to bring hid-den realities out to the light of God's love and the care of others. As Meister Eckhart says, "God is not found in the soul by adding anything, but by a pro-cess of subtraction." So it is through peeling off layer upon layer of denial and dishonesty that we discover God in our brokenness. We discover the original blessing that we are, our deeper and truer selves. We see and feel the aspects of ourselves--minds, hearts, and bodies--that mirror God's pres-ence. We experience the truth of the Genesis story where God says, "Let us make people in our image and likeness." We discover the authentic self that God desires to be fully human and fully alive. Growth in wholeness, therefore, takes place through integrating our dark side with our light side, through accepting our brokenness as we journey through it, by seeing the original blessing that we are. We discover that "darkness and light are the same" (Ps 139:12), that God is present in every dimension of our being. Thus, our woundedness becomes a gift, so rather Our Journey Inward / S'l'l than covering it over with layers of denial, we come to feel at home there because God is there. We discover our truer self underneath the layers of an addictive self. We integrate our wounded and blessed self, our darkness and our light, and we become more and more a whole person. We experience the truth proclaimed by St. Irenaeus: "God's greatest glory is a person fully alive." A Spirituality of Powerlessness and Surrender The journey through addiction to recovery is also one of powerlessness and surrender. God sent Jesus in the flesh to free us from our enslavement to sin and to show us the way t6 live in freedom. It was through Jesus' total surrender to his death on the cross that he experienced new life and showed us the way to true freedom, the freedom of letting go and surrender. In our addictive stance, we are trying to control everyone and everything around us. We grow hardheaded and hardhearted, and we attempt to control the sub-stance or process that we are abusing--alcohol, food, money, sex, work, or an obsessive relationship. We are out of control, and the more we try to con-trol everyone and everything around us, even the substance we are abusing, the more out of control we become. Our addiction is enslaving us to our own self-centered needs and desires. We are "number one" when we are addicted; our addictive needs come bei'ore everyone else. Our addiction enslaves us to an object or process that we think is going to bring us lasting happiness when it is really bringing us misery and isolation. It enslaves us emotionally, spiritually, physically, and socially. The more we try to control the use of our addictive reality, the more we lose con-trol. We deny the basic reality that Paul~ expresses: "The desire to do right is within me, but not the power. What happens is that I do, not the good I will, but the evil I do not intend. But if I do what is against my will, it is not I who do it but sin which dwells in me" (Rm 7~18-20). In our denial we keep think-ing we can choose to keep this substance in right order; however, the rbality is that our will is not working, it is diseased. We are powerless. So how does spiritual growth and recovery happen in relation to our being out of control? It begins when we admit our powerlessness, realize the insanity of thinking that we can control all aspects of our lives and our des-tiny. Spiritual growth happens through the journey of surrender, not control; it begins at the moment of surrender. We need to admit that our ability to choose has become greatly impaired through the disease of our addiction. Our trying to choose not to drink, not to overeat, not to overwork, not to engage in compulsive sexual activity, is just not working. Our willpower simply does not work. As we begin to admit our powerlessness and surrender to God, we find 512 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 new life. When we surrender rather than control, we are choosing life: "I have set before you life and death, a blessing and a curse. Choose life, then, that you may live, by loving the Lord your God, heeding God's voice and holding fast to God. For that will mean life for you" (Dt 30:19-20). As we admit our powerlessness and surrender to God, true power grows within us--the power to love others, the power to experience God's love, and the power to love ourselves. Through our surrender we come more deeply in touch with our authentic self--the self that is alive and not dead, free and not enslaved, joyful and not depressed. True freedom grows--a freedom that heals rather than hurts, that brings about growth rather than destruction, that results in life rather than death. In our surrender we begin to make positive choices for recovery, attend-ing twelve-step meetings and living the twelve-step program. We choose to take responsibility for our lives and our recovery, like the paralyzed man who had lain at the pool of Bethsaida for thirty-eight years until Jesus asked: "Do you want to be healed?" We need to respond to that same question in our addiction because recovery is hard work; it involves a gre.at deal of sacri-fice and responsibility. Also, through our daily admission of powerlessness and constant atti-tude of surrender, we discover God in a new way--a God who supports us in our weakness and strengthens us in time of need, a God who will not leave us even in our most out-of-control moments. We discover in Jesus a God " who has experienced weakness and powerlessness, a God who has stood totally stripped and poor, a God who invites us to have the attitude of a vul-nerable child rather than a controlling adult: "Unless you become like a little child, you shall not enter the kingdom of God." We experience a God whose power takes over in our weakness, as St. Paul discovered through his strug-gle: "Three times [which means numerous times] I begged the Lord that this might leave me. God said to me, 'My grace is enough for you, for in weak-ness power reaches perfection.' " It was through constantly admitting his powerlessness that Paul's spiritual growth and recovery took place. So he says: "I willingly boast of my weaknesses instead, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I am content with weakness., for when I am powerless it is then that I am strong" (2 Co 12:8-10). Thus, through admit-ting our powerlessness over an object of addiction and surrend.ering to God our weakness, we experience the power of God, the love of God, new life, renewed freedom. We move forward on the journey ,of recovery. A Spirituality of Pain and Compassion Finally, the journey through addiction to recovery is one of pain and Our Journey Inward / ~313 compassion. One of the hard facts of life is that suffering is an integral part of it. Jesus himself had to suffer great pain in order to bring new life. Our God is not a distant God but a compassionate God who experienced great pain, the pain of loving us. In our addictive stance, we deal with pain in an unhealthy way. We want to run from it, cover it over, deny it. We are caught in a "Catch 22" situation because, in using a substance to avoid our pain, we are really in great pain-- the pain of loneliness, isolation, and alienation from our true self and from healthy relationships with others. As our addiction progresses, it becomes increasingly painful to maintain our denial. We are overcome by the pain of shame and self-disgust. Spiritual growth and recovery take place when we face that pain, feeling it, looking at it square in the face, rather than avoiding it by abusing a sub-stance. As our walls of denial break down, we begin to feel the pain we have been covering up--the pain of living, the pain of loss, the pain of being human, the pain of developing intimate relationships, the pain of childhood neglect and abuse. We find out that healing involves pain, as in the case of lepers. Leprosy causes numbness. When Jesus healed the leper, he invited him to feel pain in the areas of previous nrmbness. The same is true of the leprosy of our addiction: as we begin to let down the walls of denial, we begin to feel pain. We realize that recovery and healing are not easy. As we journey through deeper levels of pain in our recovery, we discover a God who knows what it is to suffer. As Meister Eckhart says: "Jesus becam~ a human being because God, the Compassionate One, lacked a back to be beaten. God needed a back like our backs on which to receive blows and therefore to perform compassion as well as to preach it." Our compassionate God became a suffering God. Our God feels with us, suffers with us. Again, Eckhart says, "However great one's suffering is, if it comes through God, God suffers from it first." What a gift we have in a God who suffers with us! As we experience this tremendous love of a compassionate God, we become people of compassion, persons who can feel with others in their bro-kenness. We become more vulnerable and grow toward greater wholeness because love is the greatest healer. As our walls of denial are penetrated with God's compassionate love and we become more vulnerable, we can be with people in their brokenness. That is one of the beautiful realities of the twelve-step program: it is a group of people who are in touch with their bro-kenness and therefore have great compassion for those who are struggling. They live out these words of McNeill, Morrison, and Nouwen: "Compassion asks us to go where it hurts, to enter into places of pain, to share in broken-ness, fear, confusion, and anguish. Compassion challenges us to cry out with 514 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 those in misery, to mourn with those who are lonely, to weep with those in tears. Compassion requires us to be weak with the weak, vulnerable with the vulnerable, and powerless with the powerless. Compassion means full immersion in the condition of being human" (Compassion, p. 4). As we feel the pain that our addiction has tried to cover, we become wounded healers--people who minister out of our woundedness as well as our strength. "What you have received as a gift. give as a gift" (Mt 10:8). Our pain becomes a gift that we can give to other addicted people as we compas-sionately help them to face the devastation of their addictive behaviors. In sum, our inward journey involves walking down the dark paths of our brokenness into the light of God's presence and our authentic self. A spiritu-ality of addiction and recovery must include two sides of reality: awareness of our woundedness, powerlessness, and pain as well as growth in wholeness, surrender, and compassion. Without a vivid sense of the depths of our bro-kenness in our addicted self, we cannot move toward the wholeness of our authentic self. Without a keen awareness of our darkness, we are blind to the light of God's healing presence. Without an acute sense of our vulnerability, we cannot become compassionate healers who stand with others in their pain. Though scary and challenging, our journey through our own darkness will lead us to the light of true happiness, deeper fulfillment, and new life. Awareness Examen for Recovering People In God's presence, take ten to fifteen minutes to prayerfully reflect on your day. Contemplate your day together--you and God. Prayer of Thanksgiving I thank God for the gift of this day, the gift of my sobriety, the gift of my recovery. I thank God for specific git~s of life that come to mind, such as my health, my family, my community, my friends, my job, my twelve-step program. I thank God for gifts of my inner life, such as the ability to feel and think, energizing feelings I had during the day (name them), specific values and beliefs that guided my actions, ways I used my thinking and imagination for growth, positive choices for recovery which I made today, God's life within me. I thank God for two or three concrete life gifts and inner gifts that I am particularly aware of and grateful for today. Prayer for Light I humbly ask God to help me see myself and my life today as God sees Our Journey Inward them. I ask God to remove blindness and denial from my mind and heart. I ask God for the gift of honesty with myself and God. I ask God for a dis-ceming heart and a truthful mind. Prayer of Awareness God and I contemplate my life, my heart, and my thinking this day from the moment I woke up until now. What specific feelings did I feel today? When did I feel most alive today? most my true self?, most joyful? most peaceful? most in tune with my deeper self?. How did I feel God's presence today? What was that feeling like? What was God like? At what moment did I feel God's presence the strongest? When did I feel powerless today? out of control? enslaved? unfree? What was I powerless over? Did I surrender that reality to God? When did I feel vulnerable today? When did I feel pain today? What was the pain about? Did I share that painful feeling with God or another? With whom have I been most honest today? myself?, another? God? What was I honest about? How did I struggle with honesty today? With what issue or feeling? ' What were my feelings underneath the struggle? fear? anger? guilt? Which of the twelve steps was my strength today? How did I live it, carry it out, in a practical way? In what concrete ways did I strive to improve my conscious contact with God? What choices did I make for my recovery today? How do I feel about those choices? When did I feel compassion for another person today? How did I reach out to others today? show concem and care? make amends? Prayer of Amends I ask God to forgive any specific wrongdoings of today. I ask God to have mercy on any negative attitudes or feelings that I got stuck in today. Prayer of Surrender I surrender all to God: my life, my will, my brokenness, my addictions, my imagination, my thoughts, my feelings. I surrender to God specific attitudes, feelings, thoughts, actions over which I felt powerless today. I ask God's strength to take over in my specific weaknesses. I ask God's power to be present in the specific areas in which I feel helpless and powerless. 516 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 O God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Take, O Lord, and receive my liberty, my memory, my understanding, my entire will, all that I have and possess. You have given all to me. To you, O God, I return it. All is yours, dispose of it wholly according to your will. Give me your love and your grace, for this is sufficient for me. (Prayer from the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius) RECOMMENDED READING Larsen, Eamie. Stage H Recovery: Life Beyond Addiction. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1985. May, Gerald. Addiction and Grace. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988. McNeill, Donald; Morrison, Douglas; and Nouwen, Henri. Compassion. New York: Doubleday & Co., 1966. Nakken, Craig. The Addictive Personality: Roots, Rituals, Recovery. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden, 1988. Whitfield, Charles L. Healing the Child Within. Pompano Beach, Florida: Health Communications, 1987. A Gift to Share The Jesuit Heritage Today "Ignatian prayer puts the history of salvation into the present tense." --Walter Burghardt, S.J. A Spirituality for Contemporary Life ¯ presents six stimulating reflections on the Jesuit heritage today. Theologians Walter IBurghardt, David Fleming, Monika Hellwig, Jon Sobrino, ElizabethJohnson, andJohn Padberg speak about living with God in ordinary life. ISBN 0-924768-02-9 112 pages List Price $5.95 A Resource to Keep See Order Form Inside Back Cover for Special Offer for Readers of Review for Religious Apostolic Spirituality: Aware We Are Sent James H. Kroeger, M.M. Father James Kroeger last appeared in our pages in May/June 1988. He has a doctor-ate in missiology from the Gregorian University and has published five books. His address: Maryknoll Fathers; EO. Box 285; Greenhills Post Office; 1502 Metro Manila; Philippines. Adequately capturing realities in the spiritual life always demands the use of dynamic, expansive language. For this reason, spirituality is frequently described in relational categories--between a Christian and a personal God, between the servant-herald and the crucified and risen Lord. Such a relation-ship of intimacy is at the heart of biblical spirituality: "I will be your God and you shall be my people"; Christians are Jesus' friends and call their heavenly Father "Abba." Spirituality may also variously be described as growth, an evolution toward maturity, a pilgrimage. Each category presents an authentic, albeit partial, grasp of the human-divine dynamic operative in our lives. In this article, "consciousness" or "awareness" is the category for our insight into spirituality, and it naturally overflows with an apostolic or missionary dynamism. Consciousness: A Window into Spirituality Consciousness may seem to be an elusive concept, yet no one would deny the reality. An individual is in a conscious state when perceptual and cognitive faculties function normally. One continuously synthesizes various stimuli from within and from without; ideally, the result is a healthy personal integration. Notice that many constitutive elements are included in consciousness: seeing, hearing, feeling, thinking, desiring, experiencing. Consciousness incorporates perceptions, emotions, observations, thoughts, aspirations, 517 5"11~ / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 choices. It also includes an introspective awareness of the personal impact of all events and experience. In light of this brief and rudimentary description of the phenomenon of human consciousness, one may begin to elaborate the relationship between consciousness and a spirituality of the apostolate. Our service--all focused on raising our God-consciousness and expanding the horizons of our spiritu-al awareness. We want to use our eyes to see perceptively and our ears to hear attentively; we hope to gain deepened insight into our lives through faith's mirror (Jm 1:22-25). In another vein, a look at the venerable Eastern traditions of many Asian nations reveals that the man of God or the God-conscious, God-focused per-son is essentially a seer, sage, or mystic. Such a person "sees" and experi-ences God; God is not an object of knowledge, but a subject of experience. To grow in holistic spirituality is concomitant with an experiential awareness and consciousness of God's presence and activity in all dimensions of one's life (Arguelles, 50-51). The beautiful prayer in the Upanishads, one of the Hindu sacred books, expresses the aspiration and spiritual desire to come to this deeper conscious union with the divine. In Sanskrit and English it is: Asato ma satgamaya Tamaso ma jyotir gamaya Mrutyu ma amrutam gamaya. God, lead me from untruth to truth Lead me from darkness to light Lead me from death to immortality. Thomas Merton, the Trappist monk and spiritual writer (1915-1968), has enabled countless people to gain insights into their spirituality. Merton inti-mately links spirituality and prayer with the transformation of conscious-ness. He sees that a renewed conscious awareness underlies all spiritual growth; Christians must cease to assert themselves as the center of con-sciousness and discover God's presence as the deepest center of conscious-ness within them. Thus, as their self-consciousness changes, they are transformed; their self is no longer its own center, it is now centered on God. It is important to note that for Merton no one will ever be capable of communion with God and others without ttiis deep awakening, this transfor-mation of consciousness. Such transformative growth "consists in a double movement, man's entering into the deepest center of himself, and then, after passing through that center, going out of himself to God" (Higgins, 49). Merton asserts that, unless our spirituality or prayer "does something to awaken in us a consciousness of our union with God, of our complete depen- Apostolic Spirituality / 5'19 dence upon him for all our vital acts in the spiritual life, and of his constant loving presence in the depths of our soul, it has not achieved the full effect for which it is intended" (Merton-A, 67). In today's world, "What is required of Christians is that they develop a completely modern and contemporary consciousness in which their experience as men of our century is integrated with their experiences as children of God redeemed by Christ" (Merton-B, 279). The renowned Indian theologian D.S. Amalorpavadass has written elo-quently on the role of consciousness or awareness in attaining spiritual inte-gration and interiorization: "If wholeness is a state of being at which one should finally arrive in stages, awareness is the running thread and unifying force. Awareness needs to flow like a river, like a blood-stream . Awareness is also the core of spirituality and God-experience." He repeats: "Awareness or consciousness should flow through the various actions of our life. One should maintain awareness in all that one does. It should serve as a running thread and connecting bond., through the various activities of our day, and the different periods and stages of our life, in an uninterrupted and continuous flow. This flow will make our whole life a continuous prayer and a state of contemplation" (Amalorpavadass, 4, 24). Brief glimpses of Scripture, Eastern traditions, a Trappist monk, and a contemporary theologian have shown that "consciousness" helps one grasp the human-divine dynamic operative in the Christian life. Within this catego-ry- which is foundational--a vibrant spirituality and a concomitant mis-sionary dynamism can flourish. And, in a Marian spirit, Christians who are missionary will grow ever more conscious of the marvelous deeds that God is accomplishing in us, our neighbors, our society, our Church, and the entire world. The Consciousness of Paul the Missionary The New Testament describes Paul's radical awareness of God's active presence in his life. Though not naturally prone to humility, Paul admits that he was knocked to the/~round; in Damascus "something like scales fell from his eyes," By grace h~ perceived that he was the chosen instrument to bring Good News to the Gentiles and that he would accomplish his mission only with hardship and suffering (Ac 9). Paul's consciousness of his apostolic calling was certainly at the basis of his extraordinary missionary journeys. Without a vivid perception and faith commitment, no one would willingly endure the challenges Paul faced. Such endurance would be foolishness. Yet Paul is never willing, even momentari-ly, to minimize his authority and commitment as an apostle; the introductory 520 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 verses of many of his letters are clear evidence of this. Paul's conversion was no superficial or passing phenomenon. It penetrated the core of his person and totally transformed his way of thinking and acting--his consciousness. Further investigation into Pauline theology and spirituality reveals the depth of his convictions. Paul is absolutely certain that God has a wonderful, marvelous, loving plan of salvation for the entire world (note his frequent use of the words mysterion and oikonomia). His letter to the Ephesians con-vincingly, almost mystically, explains how "God has given us the wisdom to understand fully the mystery,'~ "the mysterious design which for ages was hidden in God." Pauline reflection on God's loving plan of salvation (mysterion) synthe-sizes his belief that this design has been fully revealed in Christ and will be recapitulated in Christ at the end of time. This manifestation is focused on salvation, not condemnation or judgment, and is open to all peoples. It unfolds in stages: God, Jesus, Spirit, Church, world. Humanity's response is faith or personal appropriation of the mysterion (Fitzmyer, 807-808). A recent scholarly investigation (Plevnik, 477-478) has concluded that "Any center of Pauline theology must therefore include all these components of the apostle's gospel, his understanding of Christ, involving the Easter event and its implications, the present lordship, the future coming of Christ, and the appropriation of salvation. The center is thus not any single aspect of Christ, or of God's action through Christ, but rather the whole and undivided richness and mystery of Christ and of the Father's saving purpose through his Son" (mysterion). Mystery, in one word, captures the Christian message. Paul is the missionary par excellence because he believed, lived, prayed, served, reflected, witnessed, preached, and suffered so that God's mysterion would be known, extended, loved, and freely received. Obviously, Paul's missionary consciousness had the "mysterion encounter" as its central focus and driving force. Paul's self-awareness as an apostle was rooted in being chosen as a ser-vant and minister of God's loving plan of salvation. It might be asserted that the mysterion engulfed and consumed Paul; his consciousness was so trans-formed that he could assert that Christ lived in him, that fellow Christians could imitate him, that life or death no longer mattered, and that he gloried in giving his life for Christ. In a word, the mysterion is foundational to Paul's missionary identity and consciousness. Mission and Mysterion Consciousness The Second Vatican Council in its decree on the missionary activity of the Church places mission and evangelization at the center of the Church-- Apostolic Spirituality / 52'1 not allowing this task to float somewhere on the periphery: "The pilgrim Church is missionary by her very nature" (AG, 2). Pope Paul VI continues in the same vein: "We wish to confirm once more that the task of evangelizing all peoples constitutes the essential mission of the Church . Evangelizing is in fact the grace and vocation proper to the Church, her deepest identity. She exists in order to evangelize." (EN, 14). To evangelize--what meaning does this imperative have for the Church? It is to be no less than the living proclamation of the mysterion, God's loving design of universal salvation. As the community of Jesus' disciples, the Church realizes her "deepest identity" and "her very nature" when she ful-fills her mission of evangelization. She is to be always and everywhere "the universal sacrament of salvation" (LG, 48; AG, 1). For her, to live is to evangelize. In contemporary terms, the Church accomplishes her "self-realization" or "self-actualization" through mission and evangelization. She is only authentic and true to herself when she is announcing and witnessing the mys-terion. A nonmissionary Church is impossible; it is self-contradictory. The great missionary pope Paul VI writes that the Church "is linked to evange-lization in her most intimate being" (EN, 15); mission is not "an optional contribution for the Church" (EN, 5). In addition, the Church's missionary identity is not a late afterthought of the risen Jesus--though this outlook may seem true today of some Christians and local churches. Animation and rededication are necessary because Christians "are faithful to the nature of the Church to the degree that we love and sincerely promote her missionary activity" (EE, 2). These few paragraphs may invite the comment "I have heard it all before." True, yet all of us often hear without hearing, see without seeing, and listen without comprehending. It is precisely at this juncture that conscious-ness is poignantly relevant. Many Christians do not deny the missionary nature of the Church, but their level of conscious awareness is weak or mini-mal. This fact is unfortunately true even of many full-time Church personnel. The intention here is not to berate or castigate individuals. Rather, it is a stark statement of the need for "consciousness-raising"; it is a call for Christians to expand and deepen their awareness; all urgently need "conscientization-into-mission." In short, the entire Church herself must experience a profound reevangelization in order to become a truly evangelizing community. Recall the themes presented earlier on the centrality of consciousness in Christian life and spirituality. They seem particularly relevant as the Church struggles with her fundamental missionary identity. Is not this a central burn-ing question in the Church today: What has happened to her mission con- 522 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 sciousness--where is its urgency and dynamism--where are the contempo-rary St. Pauls? A rephrasing in mission terms of earlier quotes on consciousness from Amalorpavadass may prove enlightening. Church-as-mission is "the running thread and unifying force"; it "needs to flow like a river, like a blood-stream"; it is at "the core of spirituality and God-experience"; ira"will make our whole life a continuous prayer and state of contemplation." Trinitarian Basis of Mission Consciousness and Spirituality In the same breath that the Vatican Council spoke of the Church's mis-sionary identity, it presented the foundational rationale of mission. In a word, the why of Church-as-mission is Trinitarian, "for it is from the mission of the Son and the mission of the Holy Spirit that she takes her origin, in accordance with the decree of God the Father" (AG, 2). This mission vision, expressed in Trinitarian language, must not frighten or intimidate readers. Do not say, "I do not understand Trinitarian theology, so I cannot grasp this." While a bit difficult and challenging, this insight is also beautiful and rewarding. It transports us to the heart of mission; it flows from the core of our faith in the Trinity; it greatly enhances our mission con-sciousness and spirituality. The most inviting manner to appreciate mission--via the Trinity--is to remember that it is an eminently personal approach. The Father is a person, his son Jesus is a person, their girl of the Spirit is also a person. This is only a statement of a basic dogma of the faith. Grasping the immanence and closeness of the three Persons appears far more fruitful than grappling with the incomprehensibility of the transcendent Trinity (Billy, 602-611). Growth in conscious awareness, experience, and encounter with each of the three Persons richly broadens our vision of mission. It also manifests that mission theology and spirituality draw from the same wellspring. An appre-ciation of the roles of the Father, the Son, and the Spirit in mission produces an integrated missiology, incorporating "Abba" theology, Christology, and pneumatology. The result will certainly be a more holistic theology and spir-ituality of mission. Finally, it is the conviction of this author that such an approach relieves some current tensions and answers some questions in mission. For example, debates centered on interreligious dialogue with the living faith traditions of the world can probably be better resolved more from a pneumatological approach than from only a Christological one. Therefore, if mission theology and spirituality are an integrated endeavor, the deepened consciousness will provide insights for both theoretical and practical questions. Apostolic Spirituality / 523 Our attention now tums to the roles of Father, Son, and Spirit in mis-sion. How does each person of the Trinity send and accompany us into mis-sion? Recall the title of this presentation, which links mission and spirituality with a consciousness of being sent. The Role of the Father The Father is presented in Scripture as the harvest master and vineyard owner. Mission, therefore, originates with the Father; mission is God's pro-ject. The Father determines its parameters. Already this awareness places the Church and her evangelizers in an auxiliary, servant role. Vatican II clearly set aside triumphalistic ecclesiology as well as any simplistic identification of the Church and the Kingdom of God. As servant of the kingdom or laborer in the vineyard, the Church is to be "the kingdom of Christ now present in mystery" and the "the initial budding forth of that kingdom" (LG, 3, 5). In addition, the Council, situating the Church within the larger framework of God's design of salvation (mysterion), entitled its first chapter of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church "The Mystery of the Church." The Church and all missioners must radically see themselves serving the mysterion "according to the will of God the Father" (AG, 2). The Father desires generous cooperators and humble workers for the harvest. He freely chooses them and they are to belong to him (Lk 6:13; Mk 3:13-16; Jn 15:15-16). These passages remind evangelizers that all mission is a sending (missio/mittere), originating in the Father; their vocation is God's gratuitous gift. Missioners do not send themselves; mission cannot be defined in legal terms; all must be according to the Father's gracious design. Affirming mission, therefore, as a gratuitous gift in the Father's gracious vision, emphasizes the centrality of grace. Thus, missioners understand, as the country priest in Bernanos' novel says on his deathbed, in all vocations "Grace is everywhere" (Bernanos, 233). Trinitarian mission is always soteriological; its purpose is liberation and salvation. The Father has no other goal, as Paul clearly reminded Timothy: He "wants all to be saved and come to know the truth." Condemnation or rejection are inconsistent with the Father's design (Jn 3:16-17; Mt 18:14). The Father, overwhelmingly "rich in mercy" (Ep 2:4), extends his great love to everyone, as the universalism of both Luke and Paul make clear. All evangelizers have experienced "the kindness and love of God" (Tt 3:4); it is out of their deep consciousness of the Father's personal graciousness that they journey to all places, peoples, and cultures. They are aware that they have received all as girl, and they desire to give all with the same generosity (Mt 10:8). Any missioner would relish being described as "rich in mercy." 594 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 The Father cannot be surpassed in his kindness and generosity (Jm 1:5, 17); his mercy is made concrete and visible when he sends Jesus, his Son. This is definitely a new mode of God's presence with his people; it is love in personal form. This unfolding of the mysterion far surpasses previous mani-festations of Yahweh's presence to his people Israel (Heb 1:1-2). Missioners strive to be continuations of the love of God manifested personally in Jesus, and this approach brings transformation and deepened consciousness. Our discussion of the Father's role in mission carries us back to the heart of the Trinity: God is love (1 Jn 4:8), and all manifestations flow from this identity. No less than the inner life of the Trinity is founded on the dynamism of divine love. Thus, the mysterion necessarily is a loving design since it arises "from that 'fountain of love' or charity (fontalis amor) within God the Father" (AG, 2). It is imperative that missioners and evangelizers become mystics like John the Evangelist (see 1 Jn 4:7-21); nothing less can explain the love of God for a fallen world and rebellious humanity. No other motivation is ade-quate to the missionary calling--of the entire Church. Mother Teresa of Calcutta has named her congregation the Missionaries of Charity, and she never tires, of reminding her audiences that this is the fundamental vocation of all Christians. It sounds fantastic, but it is true: The love of the Trinity is personally poured into our hearts and it transforms all evangelizers into mis-sionary messengers of God's limitless love. Knowing our personal God as the font of love is the highest level of consciousness possible. Mission spiri-tuality becomes a conscious centering on Trinitarian love. This is the solid missiology-become-spirituality promoted by Vatican II. The Mission of the Son Jesus declares openly that he has been sent by his loving Father; the phrase "the Father who sent me" occurs forty-six times in the Gospel of John. And a salvific thrust is evident in the missioning of Jesus by his Father. Vatican II expresses Jesus' missioning as a reconciling presence "to establish peace or communion between sinful human beings and himself . Jesus Christ was sent into the world as a real mediator between God and men" (AG, 3). In Paul's theology, mediation and reconciliation are vital ele-ments of the mysterion (2 Co 5:19; Col 1:13; Rm 5:1)~ Jesus' continuing "Abba experience" (Kavunkal, 9-15), enabling him to faithfully accomplish his mission, has several dimensions: his coming or proceeding from the Father (noted above), his remaining with the Father (Jn 10:38; 16:32), and his eventual return to the Father (Jn 16:5; 7:33; 13:36). This means that Jesus fulfills his mission in light of a particular conscious- Apostolic Spirituality / 525 ness: continual intimacy with his Father. Luke tells us that, before making such a decisive move in his ministry as the choice of the Twelve, Jesus "went out to the mountains to pray, spending the night in communion with God" (Lk 6:12). Mission in the Jesus mode has its source, continuation, and fulfill-ment in the Abba experience. This dimension of Jesus' living of his mission provides evangelizers an inviting model for their own mission consciousness. In its holistic vision of God's design for salvation, the Council sees the Church as continuing, developing, and unfolding "the mission of Christ him-self" (AG, 5). The apostolic exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi (13-16, 59-60) and the pastoral statement on world mission of the United States Bishops To the Ends of the Earth (25-27) also confirm mission as an ecclesial act in fidelity to Jesus. Contemporary evangelizers, cognizant of the Jesus-Church continuity, seek to live and witness as the community of Jesus' followers. They recall his promises (Mt 16:18; 28:20), but readily admit they are fragile "earthen vessels." They faithfully accept that "Christ in his mission from the Father is the fountain and source of the whole apostolate of the Church" (AA, 4). A missioner's model is "sentire cum ecclesia'" (feel and think with the Church), frankly admitting that one is "simuljustus et peccator" (concomi-tantly both upright and sinful). Who among Jesus' followers does not need a deeper consciousness of these realities? Central to the mission of Jesus is the mystery of the Incarnation: "The Son of God walked the ways of a true incarnation that he might make men sharers in the divine nature" (AG, 3). This radical identification of our broth-er Jesus with us mortals (Heb 4:15) makes us rich out of his poverty (2 Co 8:9). He became a servant (Mk 10:45) and gave his life "as a ransom for the many--that is, for all" (AG, 3). Consistently, Church Fathers .of both East and West have held that "what was not taken up [assumed] by Christ was not healed" (Abbott, 587, note 9). Thus, when Jesus took to himself our entire humanity, he healed, renewed, and saved us. In brief, incarnation is the fundamental pattern of all mission. Today evangelizers are deeply conscious of the ramifications of mission as incarnation. No missioner worthy of the name underestimates the impor-tance of indigenization and inculturation; they develop a spirituality of "depth identification," becoming as vulnerable as Jesus was in his humanity. This same pattern is the model of growth and development of all local churches (AG, 22). While it is certain that the mission of Jesus is initiated at the Incarnation, his baptism by John in the Jordan is an act of public commitment and conse-cration to mission. Jesus pursues his ministry; though it will encounter grow- 526 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 ing opposition and lead to the human disaster of Calvary, he will not betray his commitment. Note that Matthew, Mark, and Luke all juxtapose Jesus' baptism and the triple temptation in the wilderness. The tactic of Satan is to subvert Jesus with possessions, pride, and power; at the core, all Satan's promises tempt Jesus to renege on his dedication to mission. The more conscious an evange-lizer becomes of the struggle involved in mission faithfulness, the closer he will be drawn to Jesus. "who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin." The missioner will constantly and with confidence "approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and favor and to find help in time of need" (Heb 4:15-16). Instructive for the Church and her evangelizers is an appreciation of the continual action of the Spirit in the life of Jesus. The creed affirms that he was conceived "by the power of the Holy Spirit." The same Spirit descends on Jesus at the moment of his baptism (Mt 3:17); he is led by the Spirit to the desert (Mt 4:1); he returns to Galilee in the power of the Spirit (Lk 4:14); he begins his preaching mission at Nazareth asserting that "the Spirit of the Lord is upon me" (Lk 4:18). As Jesus was empowered by the Spirit, he sends forth his own disciples saying: "Receive the Holy Spirit" (Jn 20:22). Peter (Ac 4:8), Paul (Ac 9:17), Stephen (Ac 6:5; 7:55), and those who listened to their preaching (Ac 10:44) were all filled with the Spirit. In fact, the entire nascent Church brims with the Spirit's presence (Ac 2:4), and thus the community increases while it enjoys the consolation of the befriending Spirit (Ac 9:31). Jesus, his disci-ples, and likew.ise today's evangelizers all are in mission through the mar-velous action of the Spirit (Kroeger-A, 3- 12). Concretely in the practical order, Jesus carries out his mission through evangelization--proclaimiog the GoodNews of the Kingdom. The first words that Mark places on Jesus' lips are centered on this very theme (Mk 1"15). Luke also portrays Jesus' mission as focused on glad tidings to the "little ones of this world" (Lk 4:18-19). As Paul VI has noted, this theme "sums up the whole mission of Jesus" (EN, 6). Jesus could not be impeded in his ministry: "I must announce the good news of the reign of God, because that is why I was sent" (Lk 4:43). Contemporary evangelizers, reflecting on the urgency and scope of Jesus' kingdom proclamation, will find themselves imitating Jesus' ministry as he lived it in silence, in action, in dialogue, in teaching, and in prayer. Yes, the Good News of the Kingdom for Jesus means an integral, holistic approach to evangelization--because all dimensions of the total gospel are expressions of his enduring love (Jn 13:1). Apostolic Spirituality / 527 Jesus' entire life, from the Incarnation to the Ascension, was a procla-mation. All he said and did were a testimony to the Father's loving design (Jn 3:31-35; 7:16; 8:38; 14:24). Jesus existed on nothing else; his "suste-nance/ food/meat" was to do the will and work of the one who sent him (Jn 4:34). In everything Jesus was faithful to the Father. Reflective, insightful evangelizers interiorize the fidelity mind-set of Jesus (Ph 2:5); they also imitate St. Paul in his concern for faithful transmis-sion of the message of Jesus preserved by the Church (1 Co 15:3, 11). In prayer and meditation missioners refocus themselves on Jesus and his king-dom, and often this demands setting aside personal opinions and ambitions. Mother Teresa of Calcutta notes that Jesus does not always call us to be suc-cessful, but he always invites us to be faithful. This fidelity to Jesus and his message should not be interpreted in too narrow a sense. As announcers of Good News, we consciously interiorize Jesus' gospel values; however, we seek to transmit them to humanity in all its cultural, social, religious, and politico-economic diversity. Certainly, this is a fantastic challenge; it is central to contemporary evangelization. Paul VI expressed it wisely and poignantly: "This fidelity both to a message whose servants we are and to the people to whom we must transmit it living and intact is central axis of evangelization" (EN, 4). Lifestyle is key in any vision of evangelization. For our contemporaries, who willingly listen only to witnesses (not theoreticians), the missioner's authenticity and transparency are generally the first elements in evangeliza-tion; wordless witness is already a silent, powerful, and effective proclama-tion. It is an initial act of evangelization (EN, 21, 41). Jesus himself adopted a particular, concrete lifestyle. His mind-set was fidelity and obedience to his Father; his outward manner manifested the lived values of poverty, total dedication, persecution, apparent failure. The Church and her evangelizers "must walk the same road which Christ walked, a road of poverty and obedience, of service and self-sacrifice to the death" (AG, 5). Bluntly, there is no authentic Christian mission without the cross and all its surprises, foolishness, and scandal (1 Co 1:18-25). True mission is always signed by the cross, and without it we cannot be Jesus' disciples. The evan-gelizer is always generous in bearing a personal share of the hardships which the gospel entails (2 Tm 1:8). Constantly the Christian disciple is measuring his life and apostolate against the lifestyle of Jesus and the patterns of the gospel. Sustained prayerful reflection and an ever deepening consciousness of one's personal relationship with the Trinity are the unique way of interior-izing the paradox of the cross and the power of the resurrection. 528 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 An anonymous poet, speaking of the centrality of the Incarnation and Redemption in Christianity, noted that there are no definitions in God's dic-tionary for these terms. One must search for the meaning of Bethlehem and Calvary under another category. Their significance is to be found only when one reads how God defines love. Indeed, God's loving plan of salvation is a message of hope for all peo-ples. It is universal and should be preached and witnessed "to the ends of the earth." To spread this universal message demands great dedication and faith, as seen in the practical advice that Paul gave to Timothy (2 Tm 4:1-5). The evangelizer, conscious of his role in the actualization of the mysteri-on, will surrender enthusiastically to the invitation of Jesus: Come and fol-low me in my mission. This conscious surrender will open his eyes to perceive, not so much what his efforts are accomplishing, but how Father, Son, and Spirit are working fruitfully in and through his life. With this vision, contemplation and actibn harmoniously blend and sustain one anoth-er; the evangelizer experiences living the mysterion. Eventually, all will be recapitulated in Christ and God will be

Issue 37.5 of the Review for Religious, 1978. ; Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development Immortality, Old Age and Death Developing Constitutions and Directories Volume 37 Number 5 Septe~mber 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 September, 1978 Volume 37 Number 5 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Not As Demanding an Answer Mary Corona, F.M.D.M. Sister Mary Corona, nurse and mid-wife by profession, has been a religious for 23 years. After fifteen years of service in Zambia, she is presently w6rking at a nursing home of her com-munity: Mount Alvernia; Bramshott Chase; Portsmouth Rd., Near Hindhead; Surrey, En-gland. Recently someone quoted a sister as saying that she will remain in religious life until or unless Mr. Right comes along. With the greatest respect for those who see the crises which presently exist in our religious communities as lying e!sewhere, I would submit that here, in this attitude, is both nut and kernel of the~ pyoblem. How big this. problem is might be difficult to assess, but it would seem fair to suggest that it is as large, or as small, .as the number of sisters dragging along who are oriented in this way. It is true that religious life is bedeviled with all manner of other diffi-culties, but these will never destroy consecrated living. Indeed, they never could;;for consecration is of the heart, and is able to stand against the ebb and .flow of contrary tides--but not that of the uncommitted heart. An-chorless, it drifts aimlessly to and fro. One can only feel a deep compassion for sisters living in this way. They have missed out on both sides of life, and the wonder is that they stay so long. Our way of life has little to offer once theheart grows cold, for all that remains is an existence Centered on regulations, work, meals--and frus-tration. Religious life was never rheant to be like that. It was never meant merely to provide board and lOdging while our heart plays elsewhere. It was never meant simply to provide a base to which we return every so often to pick up our mail and clean clothes. We did not make vows of religion just to obtain financial security, material comfort, and freedom from the re- 641 642 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 sponsibility of rearing a family. Yet all this, and much more, is implicit in an attitude of waiting for some one or something "worthwhile" to come our way. If we come to the point where we see our:institute as something separate from the Person who calls us, there is little wonder we lose our love for it. No one can really love an institution on its own merits. No sane adult waxes lyrical over the government, or glows with love about the local housing department. Institutions, especially legislative ones, are just not things which warm our hearts. Our own institute can soon come to be viewed in much the same way.-.:Once we have lost our focal point all else begins to diSintegrate. Riales become restrictive, authority becomes oppressive, ac-countability is no longer acceptable, and our eyes start roaming the world for a way out. Ways out are not difficult to find, and so the further we get from our committed attitude of heart, the more normal it seems to be wandering abroad. We may still talk bravely about the love of God. But words do not feed a hungry heart, and we are hungry---craving for love as only a woman can crave. Separated from the trtie center of our lives, we will v.ery soon seek out its counterfeit. Borderline friendships, such as sincere married women would consider out of the question, are accepted as offering "meaning" to our drifting lives. Social activities unbecoming to a life consecrated by vow are welcomed as a relief from boredom. Fantasies, imaginings, unrealistic day-dreams eat away at us until, predictably, we file our petition for dis-pensation. What started off as something so glorious finishes with a slip of paper authorizing us to go our way. It would be pleasant to think that this unhappy pic(ure is an exaggeration. But one only has to look back through religious perio~licals covering the last few years, and pick out the articles written by sisters, to find a substantial proportion containing material,of this depressing kind. So, what should our lives be? Although we rub shoulders with many another on our journey through life, in the final analysis it is our own individual experience that shapes our views and convictions. My own con-victions concerning religious life have been crystallized and refined in many a furnace. Therehave been times when it seemed that I, like many another, just did not have the necessary courage to go on. St. Paul seemed to me to have missed the mark when he said, "You will not be tempted beyond your strength," for on those occasions I was being sorely tempted, in a way that seemed to have far outstripped my strength. , Yet it was at this very point each time that help came. Some tremendous force seemed to pluck me out of the fearful void and I was set down once again on firm ground. I now know experientially what I had known pre-viously only on theory, that St. Paul was right in what he said,just as I also know that my vows were a bilateral contract, and God on his side has an obligation to care for me--and he will. I know that however far he tosses Not As DemandinR an Answ~er / 64~ me, he will cradle me again. I know that my life is as inextricably bound up with his as his is with mine. He cannot do without me any more than I can do without him. I might be dispensable to others, but he will never throw me hway. He calls me by my name, softly and gently, not as demanding an answer, but as begging a surrender. I am his cherished one, his beloved child, and all that I do, all the wrong that is in me, will s6mehow be colored by his great ~lo~ve for me. As I grow on awarenes~ of his love, I begin to drop my masks and lower my barriers; I unfold and develop, unconscious of the strength of his con-cern. I'no longer worry~ whether I am worthy to be loved by him--such questionings are futile, for his love is already a fact. I no longer fear to accept his love, worried over my shabbiness, because near him my tatters are transformed. ~. I am aware of my weakness, my need for help, my sometimes inability to "go itS' alone. 1 know that I nee~d friends, I need. encouragement, I n~ed acceptance and love from those around me, for the stuff of my being is human and craves these ~hings. But I do not need a lover, I do not need a Mr. Right. I would have no room for him. I would not know what to do with him, for all the time I would spend with him my heart would be crying out for my true lover, my Lord and Master. I wear His ring on my finger and there it will remain until in death another will remove it, for then all need of visible signs will have passed. I know I have many faults--some glaring, ¯ some tucked away--so be it. He will not allow me to persist in dangerous or damaging attitudes for long, but he will love them out of me, and in his tenderness will leave no scars. I_will never leave him, not through any strength or goodness of mine but because he will not let me go. He bargained for me at too great a price. Why should I want to leave him anyway? What fault can I find in him? Where has . he failed? What promise has he not kept? When has his love grown cold and~ his eyes sought out anothe~r in preference to me? I can accuse him of none of these things. Through~ut my life others have let me down, but him-- never! I have pained and anguished him. I have demanded my head, and he has given it to me. I have argued and tossed the ball with him, provoking a reaction and, having exhausted myself, found his long, beautiful patience waiting quietly to take me back again. I have never received a reprimand, not even in the deepest places of my heart, but in any wrongdoing I have only ever been conscious of his heartbreaking quietness while he waits, and, as we set off together again; it is as though the wandering past had never been. And so my vows and my ~religious life are only means to a glorious end. They are not my life, but the !oom on which the fabric of my life, the fabric of my love is being woven. They will hold all things together for me until the One I have loved so imperfectlyin this life will invite me to quit it and come with him, where, because he will never leave my side, I shall do all 644 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 things perfectly. And then, in the words of that delightful English medieval recluse, Julian of Norwich, "All will be well. All manner of things will be well." This then is what was promised to us on making our religious profession. We were assured that if we faithfully observed all that was implicit in our vows we would attain to eternal beatitude. We took the unknown future on trust, and in its unfolding we have doubtless experienced great joys and rich blessings, both interwoven with a handsome share of heartbreak. Things have changed, people have changed, we ourselves have changed. No one ever promised that it would be otherwise. Yet in all the movement in which we are caught up, God has remained constant. He has not, he does not, he will not change. So infinitely lovable, tantalizingly beautiful, how is it possible for us to want another? We have our Mr. Right, maybe we never stood still long enough to recognize him. Maybe we have never moved in closely enough to experience him. It is never too late, for in his constancy he is still waiting. He has not moved. He will always be waiting while there is the smallest hope that we might turn back. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS HAS MOVED! As of June 19, the editorial office of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has relocated from its Grand Boulevard location to its new address: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development Philip D. CristantiellO Dr. Cristantiello is a consulting psychologist to St. Joseph's Seminary, St. Vincent's Hospital School of Nursing, the Dominican Sisters of Newburg and to Elizabeth Seton College. He resides at 130 Sherwood Ave.; Yonk.ers, NY 10704. Once upon ~. time a person could reiy on .his certainties. They accom-panied him as comfortable companions throughout life. For example, just about everyone knew that the priestho6d was limited to men, that homo-sexuality was not only different but also deviant and that no child born Robert would become, an adult called Roberta. It wasn't even necessary to discuss such matters. They were considered self-evident. Now, however, we have come uncomfortably to the realization that society has taken many of our "knowns" and chan.ged them to."maybes." So it is fitting to discuss the subject of psychosexua! maturity with a certain degree of caution. The views expressed in this paper are directed particularly toward pro-grams of preparation for the priesthood. It is likely, however, that many of the comments will apply to all who have chosen a celibate way of life. After briefly identifying some of my working assumptions, I shall discuss toe topics of sexuality, psychosexual maturity, intimacy and celibacy. In ad-dition, some questions about the effects of a homogeneous environment on preparation for. celibacy will be raised. The final section of the paper will offer some guidelines to seminary educators. Since each of these topics is so complex, 1 have focused my thougl~ts on their psychological aspects. My intent is not to minimize the moral and theological dimensions of these subjects. They are simply beyond my competence and are appropriately left to others. ~ 645 646 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Some Working Assumptions My discussion of psychosexual maturity is based upon certain assump-tions derived from empirical studies of healthy and mature persons and concepts of biological normality.~ These assumptions are: ---All forms of sexual expression are not equally reflective of normal psychosexual development; e.g., homosexuality. --The criteria for judging mature behavior in non-celibates will not necessarily be the same for celibates; e.g., procreation is normative ¯ for the species but trot for religious. --The absence of, or seeming immunity from, sexual striving and stresses is trot necessarily indicative of psychosexual harmony; e.g., the absence of conflict may be due to such mechanisms as repression. ---Mature individuals are not invariably stable or immune to dis-organization; e.g., a priest may have a personal crisis which tem-porarily disrupts confidence in his vocation, but over the long run the quality of his commitment can remain high. ---Strong, persistent motivations will assist the celibate in organizing purposeful-behavior; e.g., Christian directional stability helps one cope in an unstable, value-changing society. --The validity of concepts of psychosexual maturity does not rest upon their being evidenced in the personalities of most religious; e.g., in the Kennedy-Heckler stud), of the priesthood most priests were found to be underdeveloped. This does not mean, however, that psycho-sexual maturity is impossible in the priesthood. ---It is unlikely that I can propose a universally a6cepted concept of psychosexual maturity. The diversity and complexity°w, hich one may find in the experiential world of well functioning celibates has not been adequately researched and studied. Sexuality ' ~ ' The Sexualization of Celibate Life Sexuality is increasingly selected as a topic of discussion by celibates. The appearance of books, workshops, and articles devoted to various as-pects of this subject attest to this assertion. There is an apparent readiness on the part of many persons in religious life to address the phenomenon of "human sexuality. Indeed, there has been a curiously sudden emergence of "expert commentators" on the subject. In the past it was not that religious could deny that sex was a fact of life, but that many celibates simply did not regard it as a useful fact and could more easily avoid its role in their lives. It was not unusual for both religious and laity to think of celibacy as a state of being asexual. Today, with our widespread cul(ural relativism and appearance of psychological sophis- ~Douglas H. Heath, Explorations of Maturity (New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1965), pp. 32-34. Warren J. Gadpaille, The Cycles of Sex (New York: Scribners, 1975), pp. 5-7. Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 647' tication, many old views are being displaced. "Experts," even though they be far removed from formation programs, seem capable of speaking at:great length and with great conviction about the preparation of men for priest-hood. However else we may describe these times, most certainly it will not be called an age of humility. Another sign of how sexuality has saturated our culture is that the noun "celibate" appears more and more frequently in print with modifiers like "sexual" or "genital." This facile use of terms does not automatically signify any real move toward maturity; it merely misleads some into think-ing they have made a substantial step in that direction. In such a climate we may start to believe that using the language of sexuality is,synonymous with being mature. The articulated vocabulary of sexuality doesn't easily trans, late into the nonverbal language of behavior. Despite the recent proliferation of publications and the shifts in attitude, I am inclined to believe that the practice of celibacy and the sexuality of celibates is I,argely an unknown. There is .little available evidence from serious, systematic study which adequately describes the impact of celi-bacy on the~lives of~priests and other, religious. We have operate~ with many assumptions and assertions about how difficult ',c, elibacy is, its"impact on personality functioning, and what resources prove us.eful, and which do not, in sustaining a p,erson in a celibate vocation. There is relatively little verifiable information about the d~gree of'sucCess which priests and reli-gious have achteved !,n rema~mng faithful, and not much common agree-ment as to the criteria for defining a healthy celibate life. In addition, the relationship of successful celibate commitment to type of preparation, per-sgnality, work satisfaction and age has not been clearly delineated. It may seem overly ~imple ~to state.my next observation in relation to the practice of celibacy, but sometimes the obvious is neglected. Sexual ab-stinence, like sexual gratification is a part-time, not a full-time experience. Persons who actively gratif.y t.heir sexual needs do not do so continuously any more than celibates have to rehounce genital e~prgssion continuously. The point is that sexual abstinence may have to be continual in religious life, but that d0es" not mean it i~ continuous." While it may be true that we now live in a society which insanely operates as though desire and gratificatio.n were synonymous and need to be experienced simultaneously, we may have been equally absurd in the past by overplaying the sacrificial nature of abstinence. Ih a sense, ~then, in efforts to redress some of the problems associated with an asexual approach, our concept of celibacy now seems to have become rather Sexualized, Education for Sexuality The celibate may a,,ccept~the~fact of his seXuality but it may not help him very ,much because the meaning of this fact keeps changing as the celibate zContinual refers to an indefinite succession or recurrence of events while continuous implies ,an uninterrupted experience with unchanging intensity and'withou~ modulation. Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 advances in age~ He soon learns that becoming an enlightened and re-sponsible sexual being is a life long challenge. Education for a celibate life is not just a task for the young seminarian. Sexuality presents different demands and has different meanings at different points in a person's life. For example, an individual may find the stresses ofa celibate priesthood. more manageable when he is young because a certain proportion of his interactions provide indications that he is regarded as an attractive male. As he ages, such reassuring experiences may0become infrequent and his self-image threatened. He may then become more imprudent in seeking con-firmation of his attracliveness as a man. In addition tothe changing nature of one's sexuality seminaries for the most part did not make it easy for students to acquire the knowledge, attitudes and skills which would enable them to understand what a celibate life-style entailed. While the introduction of courses on human sexuality has been of some help, there is still insufficient opportunity for students to discuss celibate life with priests and women religious because there still exists a sense of vulnerability and embarrassment among these groups. Preparation for a life of celibacy must involve more than such discrete events as coml61etion of a course in human sexuality, making vows or becoming ordained. Such events are no more a guarantee of mature sexual functioning for celibates than falling in love, gel~iing married and procreat-ing are for non-celibates. The seminary should strive: to impart to its stu-dents that the understanding, enjoyment and management of their sexuality is a continuing responsibility which must be shared wiih other persons. This responsibility does not cease with ordination. Al~ter a man leaves the semi-nary, he should be able to look forward to assistance from diocesan-spon-sored programs which will help him fulfill his commitment. Some Problems in Understanding Sexuality It is easy to assert that an understanding of the effect of sexuality on one's vocation depends upon comprehending the nature of sexuality. Such insight, however, is difficult to achieve. Our comprehension of human sexuality has been shaped as much by folklore and fantasy as by science and clinical experience. Our sources of knowledge have often been lacking in reliability. We have been limited as much by resistance in the scientific community as by social inhibitions. And what is perhaps more to the point, it is practically impossible for any individual to know at any given moment how his sexuality is affecting him any more than he generally knows how his circulation is affecting him. High sounding phrases like "sexuality is a fundamental aspect of personality functioning" are not much help in im-proving anyone's understanding of the role of sexuality in the priesthood or any other vocation. In fact, such statements often increase the dilemma because they make many persons feel secretly stupid not knowing more about what is so basic to their nature. For example, is a person':s sexuality minimally operative if he declares, "I do not need relationships with women Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 649 to know that I am male," because this is a fact that he can be sure of by referring to the anatomical evidence at hand? And is his sexuality maxi-mally operative when he admits "I need a woman to feel masculine," because masculinity is not a fact but a value which cannot be judged in the same .way?3 In the first instance the criteria to be used are physiological, whereas in the second they are cultural and subject to changes in value as circumstances of time and place vary. In short, discussing the influence of sexuality may be likened to dealing with a ghost. One can seek it out but never touch it. Psychosexual Maturity While we may readily acknowledge that sexuality is a real and com-prehensive aspect of our relationships with others, we are still left with the question of defining .psychosexual maturity. It is one thing to say that sexuality goes beyond genital expression, quite another to identify a healthy integration of the psychological and physical dimensions of one's behavior. Sexuality's potential is also its problem. A person brings to any human interaction a host of needs, vulnerabilities, attitudes and defenses, and he can manipulate them in a variety of ways. For example, if.an individual wishes to deny responsibility for his sexual acts he may rationalize by saying his behavior is determined by instinctive drives over which he has no control. If he is threatened by the changing roles of women he can extol the importance of tradition and the accuracy of existing male-female stereo-types. If he needs to reassure himself about his masculinity he can refer to the strength and passion of his sex drive. What I hope I am making clear is the complexity associated with psychosexual functioning. It takes a great deal of knowledge, experience and honesty to know whether one's sex-uality is operating as a mature or immature response to another person. There are several other reasons why it is difficult to define psychosexual maturity. First, the characteristics that constitute maturity may simply be those that are esteemed by the author of ttie definition, i.e., the definition may have little to do with objective reality but reflects the personal values of the author. It would be wise to acknowledge, however, that values do play a legitimate 'part in formulating a concept of psychosexual maturity. Even a developmental concept such as Erikson's eight ages of man which rests upon the assumption of an inborn sequence of phases coordinated to the social environment is not readily divorced from the issue of values.4 Secondly, mature men are not static stereotypes. Their individuality aFor a discussion of the differences between males and females, and the distinction between sex and gender, see: Ann Oakley, Sex. Gender and Society (New York: Harper, 1972) and Corinne Hutt, Males and Females (Baltimore: Penguin~, 1972), 4Some of the difficulties associated with defining maturity will be found in: Leon J. Saul and Sydney E. Pulver. "The Concept of Emotional Maturity." Comprehensive Psychiatry. Vol. 6, No. I. February. 1965 and reprinted in Cur~e.nt Issues in Psychiatry. Vol. 2 (New York: Science House, 1967), pp. 231-244. 650 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 remains viable because they haven't allowed themselves to be put into a mold. Studies indicate that "the further., a person develops, the more finely sketched is his individuality."''~ Stereotyped behavior is more com-mon with immaturity. Rogers has pointed out that a mark of maturity is openness to experience and that as this increases the less predictable the person's behavior will be. The person's behavior will be dependably ap-propriate, but not rigidly patterned.~ In short, we cannot expect that all psychosexually mature men will exhibit behavior which is exactly alike. Defining Psychosexual Maturity In offering a definition it is important to distinguish between appropriate and mature behavior. During childhood, adolescence or youth certain di-mensions of an =individual's behavior might be regarded as psychosexually appropriate. That is, his thought, affect or action might be suitable for or fit the appropriate growth period according to Freud's or Erikson's stages of psychosexual development. He would not, however, in my view be characterized aspsychosexually mature because he had not had the fullness of time to permit the development of a deep understanding, full acceptance and ample ripening of his capacities. Psychosexual maturity is evidenced in the fuller, accrued development and harmonious interplay of the individ-ual's psychological and sexual capacities within an ordered and ethical value system. Before discussing some of the behavioral aspects of this 9onstruct, several other generalizations may help clarify my position. Why is a reference to values included in the definition of psychosexual development? Menninger has stated that, "Insofar as choice determines behavior, it stems from some considerations of value.' ,7 Since it would be inconceivable to speak of mature persons without this dimension of choice, psychosexual development cannot be isolated from the influenc(~of values. There is no realistic way of separating the two. Adolescence is not successfully outgrown by sit'ply developing con-fidence in one's sexual and occupational identity. Development toward maturity rests upon the individual's ability to evolve an internalized value system? The individual making such progress, will not only recognize the personal reality of his sexuality, but will seek to identify, question, refine and incorporate a sexual ethic. Thus, the maturing individual discovers not only the vitality of his biological capacities, but also seeks to appreciate their value, understand their meaning and assume personal responsibility '~Roy Heath, The Reasouable Adventurer, A Study of the Development of Thirty-six Under-graduates at Princeton (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1964), p. 38. Also, Douglas A. Heath, Growing Up In College (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1968), pp. 4-19. 6Carl R. Rogers, "The Concept of the Fully Functioning Person," Psychotherapy, Theory, Research and Practice, Vol. I, No. I, August, 1963, pp. 17-26. tRoy W. Menninger, "'No Escape From Values," comment in Current Issues In Psychiatry, Vol. 2, p. 253. 6Warren J. Gadpaille, The Cycles of Sex (New York: Scribners, 1975), p. 338. Psychosexual Maturio, in Celibate Development / 65"1 for their use. His freedom to choose raises the prospect of making enduring commitments to fundamental values. This freedom to choose on the basis of what he values is a "strength-giving and maturing realization. It is the key that opens the door to adulthood.''9 Programs of spiritual development can make significant contributions toward encouraging this aspect of the matUring process. Psychosexual maturity is an approachable ideal but probably not an achievable end. It is more a direction than a destination. Psychosexual maturity is never completely static. Physical maturation, physical and psy-chological needs and human relationships are never finalized. The interplay of desire and control must be addressed again and again. The celibate cannot bank on earlier resolutions to provide certain and continuing pro-tection throughout life. Since personality resonates in response to life events, the celibate cannot be expected to acquire psychosexual maturity during his period of seminary training and possess it securely throughout his ministry. If he faces the vicissitudes of life, his development wili be an ongoing process. On the other hand, if he tended to avoid life's recurrent challenges his development will be retarded. Psychosexual maturity and immaturity will be basically reflected in the motives, feelings and actions that are part of one's interactions with others. In the following sections I shall try to identify psychosexual maturity and immaturity in more specific terms. Idehtifying Psychosexual Maturity Erikson has commented that "To know that adulthood is generative, does not necessarily mean that one must produce children. But it means to know what one does if one does not.''~° In assessing psychosexual ma-turity, one must ask what happens to the celibate's deferred generativity. Does it, like the poet Hughes puts it, "dry up like a raisin in the sun"?~ If we follow Erikson's thought, the potential to be generative exists in all celibates who concern themselves with the "establishment, the guidance, and the enrichment of the living generation and the world it inherits."v' It is clear, therefore, that potential ig not sufficient. Thus, the psychosexually mature celibate must keep his creative powers alive and utilize them in some publicly identifiable way. There must be a behavioral service to others, guided by an enlarged sense of communal responsibility for the enrichment and enhancement of the whole cycle of life. The mature celibate's generativity is principally demonstrated by an expansion of his ego-interests. An example of this might be a faculty mem-ber investing his energies in the development of seminarians. The young would not be suspect or feared. The faculty member would view his stu- ~Peter Koestenbaum, Existential Sexuality (Engelwood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall. 1974), p. 143. ~0 Erik H. Erikson, Dimensions of a New .Identity (New York: Norton, 1974), pp. 122-123. ~Langston Hughes, Selected Poems (New York: Knopf, 1959), p. 268. ~-"Erik H. Erikson, p. 123. 652 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 dents as a "welcome trust" for future generations. His work would be motivated by a caring commitment to help others share in the benefits that have accrued to him. The more mature a celibate is, the more his vision will extend beyond the topography of skin. Relationships with members of the opposite sex will be less a question of responding to a physically attractive person and more a caring response for what is good in the person. Such a view permits the celibate to direct his sexuality beyond genital expression. His attentiveness to others' needs is flexible rather than fixated. His sexuality functions not only to make him attentive to the sexuality of others, but also to be in-sightful. Without insight his sense of celibate commitment will not find appropriate expression. This means being able to experience and acknowl-edge the attraction between himself and a member of the opposite sex without, as Farber put it, "the intervention of sex as motive or compul-sion.'' 13 He experiences his sexuality without guilt or denial and he pursues his relationship without the motivation of physical union. When he touches another person it is an expression of warmth, not a covert maneuver to incite physical arousal in himself or the other. The psychosexually mature celibate loves individuals, not an abstract form of humanity. He can be psychologically intimate with persons of either sex without domination, possessiveness, jealousy or genital expression. When problems arise intra-psychically or interpersonally he assumes responsibility for getting help without protracted delays. The psychosexually mature adult is able to recognize and commit him-self to values, cope with value conflicts, and assume responsibility for the consequences of his choices. The more mature he is, the more voiced values will coincide with his private thoughts and behavior. His sexual urges will not put his value system and behavior "out of sync." In ad-dition, what he values will be prized and not treated routinely. He will see his ethical principles as having validity apart from, but not necessarily opposed to, the authority figures in his life. In other words, his valuing process is alive and well--not latent, deferred or unconscious. While it is impossible to delineate all aspects of psychosexual maturity, there are three additional points of reference which may be useful in as-sessing psychosexual functioning. The first is that the more mature a person is the more he will possess awareness. His mental life will not be walled off from his bodily functioning and powers. The mature celibate will be able to recognize and draw inferences from his sexual responses as they affect his interactions. The second is that his response to the requirement of celibacy will be more than acquiescence or conformity. He will have understood what he was choosing and was willing to accept it without bitterness. The more that an individual finds celibacy an ifiaposition, the more it will di-minish his degree of psychosexual harmony, just as the more he is re- ~Leslie H. Farber, "'He Said, She Said," Commentary, March 1972, p. 53. Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 653 pressed sexually the more his awareness will be constricted. The third point of reference is the individual's commitment to synthesis. If he is unable to take the various dimensions of himself and integrate them with his Christian commitment be'will be a fragmented personality. There must be a harmony bet.ween thinking, feeling, and acting if the individual is to move toward psychosexual maturity in religious life. Recognizing Psychosexual Immaturity When a celibate's thought, affect or behavior becomes absorbed with compensatory processes, his level of maturity may be questioned. Some examples of immature compensatory measures for the lack of genital ex-pression are: vicarious participation in the heterosexual experiences of parishioners or psychic over-involvement in seminarians' conflict about celibacy; absorption with making one's physical appearance attractive so as to gain admiration as a substitute for the absence of sexual contact; denying or demeaning the value and pleasure of genital expression.; and taking refuge in consoling fantasies of sexual gratification and conquest. A per-son's psychosexual development will not endure the challenges of celibacy very well if it rests upon a foundation of compensatory measures. The way in which a celibate experiences required heterosocial limita-tions and sexual abstinence is indicative of his level of psychosexual ad-justment. Neither gratification nor frustration exist in abstract form; both have cognitive aspects which affect emotions and behavior. For example, sexual abstinence can be experienced by the individual as frustration, i.e., lack of opportunity to achieve a desired pleasure, or it can be experien.ced as deprivation, i.e., something which he has been unfairly kept from en-joying. The difference between experiencing a sense of loss and sacrifice (frustration) and a sense of being forcibly dispossessed (deprivation) is a fine distinction in perception. Nonetheless, it is one which will profoundly color the celibate's response, influencing both his mood and behavior. The first type of perception can lead to the learning of tension and frustration tolerance which is an essential ingredient in healthy ego development. The second type of perception can lead to covert gratifications and severe intrapsychic conflicts. More generally, the more that a person's relationships are determined by subjective states of deprivation (e.g., loneliness) or physical drives (e.g., erotic urges), the more easily his judgment will be impaired, his behavior driven and his communication pressured. Under such conditions his sex-uality will keep him awake but not very alert or smart. It will be increasingly difficult for him to keep from narrowing the focus of his attention, and his interactions with others will be directed toward goals which he indepen-dently determines. The more that a person ,has been unable to accept and integrate his sexuality, the more he will use defense mechanisms like re-pression and projection to alleviate h.i~guilt. t554 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Psychosexual immaturity is bound up with the individual's personality dynamics. A comparison may help clarify this generalization. A passive-submissive celibate is likely to wait for a seductive situation to short-circuit his own vague intentionality, while an obsessive-compulsive will rely on some feared imperative to insulate himself from his sexuality. The pas-sive- submissive tends to relinquish his own indefinite goals under someone else's influence while the obsessive-compulsive, unable to compromise his perfectionism, seeks an unquestionable tenet to banish doubt from his decisions. The first exaggerates the extent to which his behavior has been determined by external circumstance, the second invokes an authoritative precept to relieve him of personal responsibility. Both suffer from a de-ficient sense of autonomy which in turn diminishes the degree of psycho-sexual maturity. An attempt to recognize immaturity is not a trivial matter. There is no universally accepted compendium or list of mature and immature behav-iors. In addition, the attempt is to illuminate psychosexual behavior not codify it. One cannot take a complex concept like psychosexual maturity and reduce it to a systematic and definitive collection of behaviors. This does not mean, however, that questions about a celibate's psychosexual maturity are to be dismissed cavalierly. The difficulties associated with such an assessment do not negate the fact that the quality of a person's psychosexual functioning impinges upon the effectiveness of his ministry to others. Immaturity is not a private affair. Wherever it exists it draws at-tention to itself and spreads like a contagion sapping energy from the maturity of others. Celibacy and Intimacy , Intimacy The. term intimacy enjoys a leading place in the popular idiom of celi-bates almost to the point of being accorded reverential respect. Despite the difficulty of offering fresh comment on something so in fashion, the subject is ,too central to be avoided. One reason why intimacy attracts such concern is the interpersonal mobility required of priests. Many pastoral contacts are so compressed in time they end up being fragmentary relationships. In addition, each time a priest takes a new assignment, a certain number of friends are lost. Replacement of such friendships is difficult, especially for those with limited flexibility. These factors, combined with others (e.g. ,job dissatisfaction) can create an overpowering sense of isolation and thereby threaten one's psychosexual adjustment. In spite of our tendency to venerate intimacy, it is not a universally desired experience. The prospect of closeness may repel as often as it attracts. In intimacy one gives up control of what is seen by the other. One cannot enjoy privacy without being, in a sense, "public." Thus, a major question facing a person who commits himself to celibate life is deciding Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 655 whether he will share his real identity with that of others. If he did not choose the vocation to avoid intimacy, he assumes a major task in deter-mining how to share his personal self. To what extent can an adult ex-perience love or develop close relationships with other adults when geni-tality is renounced? A loving sexual union permits a truly intimate self-disclosure; an unfeared self-abandonment and loss of ego boundaries that non-genital friendships seemingly cannot match. How is the celibate to prevent an atrophy of his capacity for intimacy and not isolate himself with self-absorption? These questions are important because the strength de-rived from successfully managing the issue of intimacy vs. isolation is necessary for further psychosexual development. The usual answer to the questions posed is that a celibate can satisfy his needs for intimacy in non-genital friendships. This, of course, can be a normal and satisfactory means of self-disclosure for experiencing oneness with another. In this regard one of the usual cautions cited is that "celibate people need to be aware of the difference between intimacy, tactility and genitality.''~'~ I do agree with Goergen's suggestion that celibates need to distinguish these dimensions of relating. I think, however, that in otir warn-ings to celibates about the dangers of touch and sexual expression in friend-ships we have neglected an aspect of non-geriital relating that is more likely to impede a successful resolution of the intimacy vs. isolation question. This negative'aspect of relating to which I refer will be termed protective partnerships. Erikson has defined readiness for intimacy as the capacity to commit oneself "to cbncrete affiliations and partnerships and to develop the ethical strength to abide by such commitments, even though they may call for significant sacrifices and compromises.''~ While many men in seminaries do develop group affiliations and personal friendships, these relationships sometimes reflect an unhealthy degree of mutuality. We have all heard about the possessiveness of "particular friendships," but the issue I wish to address is more a question of protection than control. A protective partnership involves a largely unrecognized conspiracy of two or more persons to maintain isolation and distance from others. The partners in-dulge each other's' sensitivities in a form of pseudo-intimacy. ~his relieves them of having to deal with the challenges of being intimate with others outside their clique. The partnership also serves to protect those involved from psychic injury and thr~ats ofdisconfirmation (e.g., from the needs aiad ideas of those outside the group). Individuals caught up in such protective alliances are uncomfortable with expressing personal needs and feelings outside the partnership. It makes them feel infantilized or overly vulner-able. Intimacy outside the safe confines of the partnership is avoided be- ~'~Daniel Goergen, The Sexual Celibate (New York: Seabury, 1974), p. 159. ~Erik H. Erikson, "'Eight Ages of Man," reprinted in Current Issues In Psy,chiatry, Vol. 2., p. 253. 656 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 cause of distrust, anticipated ridicule, .fear of increased dependency or loss of control of emotion. They will rarely offer or accept intimacy outside the partnership. Protective partnerships are an inadequate resolution of the intimacy question. They pose more danger to an effective ministry than sexual in-discretions. Since they permit only weak identifications with persons out-side the boundaries of the partnership, such relationships discourage the development of empathy for others and set the stage for a righteous in-sularity. Thus, the celibate while believing he has become intimate has actually developed a Woclivity for provincialism and isolation. His further development toward stages 9f generativity and ego integrity is impaired. P. sychosexual maturity, particularly for the celibate, requires the ability to develop expanding rather than constricting identifications. Another thing which will hinder possibilities for genuine intimacy is an inadequate concept of celibacy. Individuals who have neglected serious examination of their own concept of celibacy or who operate with only a vague set of feelings about its meaning are unprepared for intimacy because they are unprepared for commitment. Celibacy without conviction is a form of sexual suicide. In an excellent paper on the psychology and asceticism of priestly celibacy Pable offers several sophisticated insights which can help remedy such limitations.'~ For the young person in a formation pro-gram, however, there are more basic points that need to be addressed, First, it is not uncommon to find that seminarians will become rather insecure if they discover a discrepancy between the degree of confidence they feel about a call to the priesthood and their acceptance of the celibacy requirement. Often they do not become aware of this lack of internal con-sistency until they are in advanced stages of preparation for their vocation. The way in which seminarians deal with this dilemma varies of course, but frequently the conflict is inadequately evaluated or avoided. Avoidant be-havior is not confined to students, however, for seminary educators are sometimes equally adept in delaying or delimiting opportunities to discuss celibacy. The inclusion of formal courses in human sexuality rarely rem-edies this situation completely. Often a main effect of such courses is to bring such conflicts to a level of consciousness without resolution of the concomitant anxiety. Secondly, when sexual fears and impulses are regarded as signs of weakness and as constituting a grave threat to one's vocation, attempts at emotional overcontrol are set in motion. A premature identification with celibacy is one means of putting such concerns to rest. Then, at some later stage, sufficient ego strength will have occurred permitting these concerns to resurface. For these reasons it is important to have competent counseling services on hand so that students can be readily assisted in understanding and dealing with such conflicts. Many of these students can eventually make a sound commitment to celibacy. ~nMartin W. Pable. ~'The Psychology and Asceticism of Celibacy," Seminao' Newsletter Supplement, No, 5, Vol. 13, February 1975. Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 657 Clinical experience indicates that one should not assume the existence of a secure, firm acceptance of the celibacy requirement simply because students do not verbalize their uncertainties. On the other hand, seminary educators should not be quick to judge a student as unsuitable if he does raise questions or expose his doubts. Instances in which the celibacy issue was deferred or submerged until some external circumstance disturbed an earlier, and sometimes premature adaptation to the requirement are not unusual. Such a state of affairs may simply indicate that other aspects of the individual's development (e.g., intellectual learning) had to occur before the meaning of celibacy could be faced. Increasingly, students are taking initiatives in bringing their questions about celibacy into an open forum. Yet, there still remain in the minds of many seminarians strong fears that, if one were to air his true feelings, reprisals in the form of peer rejection and dismissal from the program might result. Thus, many go their own way for protracted periods of time without assistance in dealing with such internal tensions, thereby creating more ¯ problems for themselves and others. It is essential that seminary educators provide the kind of climate in which students feel secure enough to expose where they are at in their development. In the absence of the trusting climate, self-concealment reigns. In an untrusting climate the prospects of self-disclosure are decreased. This leads students to believe intima~cY is only possible in exceptional relationships. In such a climate associations with peers and fa6uity will be reduced to role playing in which the student seeks to conceal important dimensions of his psychosexual development. Even when he seeks inti-macy his tendency will be to obtain reassurances rather than candid en-counters which could challenge self-assumptions and expand knowledge of the quality of his psychosexual functioning. While any move toward intimacy is fraught with risks, e.g., rejection, exploitation and protective partnerships, it is nonetheless essential for healthy personality development in the young. Intimacy helps attenuate attitudes of egocentrism, suspicion, jealousy and omnipotence--all of which represent substantive obstacles to an effective ministry. Human sexuality is a stimulus to move toward others and away from self-cen-teredness. Without the challenge of intimate relationships the seminarian's potential for genuine altruism remains quiescent. A third point deserving consideration is the common practice of re-ferring to celibacy as a gift. This gift analogy can be psychologically mis-leading to the young person. Much of one's youthful experience indicates that a gift is a material thing, and that one can (or must) accept a gift whether one wants it or deserves it? With such an orientation to the gift analogy the seminarian may fail to give sufficient attention to his own readiness for celibacy, thereby setting the stage for problems after ordination. For when celibate Status is viewed as a thing given rather than attained, it is more likely to be passively possessed until "stolen, lost or given away." Thus, Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 if one insists, on using the gift analogy it should be stressed that the gift is a sacred trust and that its possessor has an obligation to prepare himself before it can be put to proper use. The proper exercise of such a gift depends upon personal effort to acquire the necessary knowledge and maturity. It should be evident at this point that my discussion of celibacy has proceeded in an explicitly psychological fashion. However, the question of celibacy obviously has religious value and theological meaning. Have I, then, given short shrift to these important dimensions of the celibate com-mitment? Specifically, has my concentration on personal development and effort slighted the importance of God's call and grace? I think not. Indeed, .my persuasion is that psychological analysis and theological insight are complementary. Grace does not replace the human process of develop-ment. It strengthens and perfects that process. And for God's call to be fruitful, it must be integrated into the mature growth of the human subject. Thus, the theological language of "gift" must be complemented by the psychological insistence upon mature human development if the entire sweep of human experience is to be engaged and the full implications of commitment are to be grasped. Creativity in Intimacy and Celibacy In completing this section on celibacy and intimacy I want to introduce the~subject of creativity for two reasons. First, I want to counter the popular tendency, to view intimacy solely in term~ of close and affectionate personal relationships. Such a concept of intimacy is too limiting, particularly for persons who will be living a celibate life. There is need to recognize another kind of intimacy which, while involving deep understanding and sensitive response, does not depend upon a mutual opening of hearts. I am referring to what, fof lack of a better label, may be termed creative intimacy. The person who is capable of this kind of intimacy has reached a level of psychosexual development which permits committed and perceptive re-lationships without the reassuring prerequisite of secret emotional ties. The research physician who invents a novel and needed procedure, the archi-tect who designs appropriate housing for unique terrain and the scholar's treatise which brings order out of confusion are all examples of a com-mitment to intimacy. Each establishes a link between the complexities of external demands and inner personal resources. A celibate who is. capable of involved interest with a subject (e.g., Scripture), a place (e.g., his parish) or a group (e.g., the aged) is not apt to suffer from a sense of isolation. In short, it is possible to relate intimately to life by being deeply affected by and responsive to ideas, situations and problems without requiring sexual union or an emotional heart transplant as a condition for an enriching experience. The creative person's contributions to society are evidence of this unconventional form of intimacy. A second reason for focusing on creativity is that its place in the prep- Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 659 aration of men for celibate life has received insufficient attention despite the fact that it has long enjoyed a respectable status in educational circles. By way of illustration consider the following questions: (1) What priority do psychological screening programs place on identifying creative capacities in candidates for priesthood? (2) How much do we know (or utilize what is known) about how creativity may be linked to the sub-limation of the sex. drive? (3) To what extent are seminary educators con-tentto rely on those tired, thoughts which assert that creative individuals cannot survive seminary environments, are troublesome to superiors, and that creativity is largely a product of inheritance? It seems ironic that we who identify God as Creator, and man as having been created in his image can manage to prepare men for a celibate priesthood with so little emphasis upon the identification and encouragement'of creativity. Seminaries have yetto acknowledge through curriculum design that a celibate's creativity is a most valuable resource in coping with the daily stresses of life. In a previous section the question was asked, "What happens tO the celibate's deferred: generativity?" Perhaps another way of answering this question can be found in linking celibate status with creativity. Specifically, celibacy can be viewed as a distinctive means of being consciously cre-ative. In associating celibacy with creativity I am thinking of MacKinnon's statement that true creativity fulfills at least three conditions: (1)originality, (2) adaptiveness, and (3) realization .~7 As for the first (originality), celibacy is an idea that is always novel, unique, or at least statistically infrequent. As for the second point, celibacy is adaptive in that it serves to fit the situation of ministry to accomplish some recognizable g0al. And to the third condition (realization)~ celibacy involves sustaining the original work of Jesus and further extending it in time. With this perspective we may de-crease the likelihood that celibacy will be viewed as a static, asexual status. Instead, celibacy will be seen as a more active, generative relationship with the world. The Homogenous Environment Life in an all male environment is not an asexual experience. The stu-dent's premises about his sexual identity, his level of self-esteem and his interest in persons of either sex do not remain static during the seminary years as though preserved in a time capsule. They continue to be chal-lenged, modified and shaped' by the character of the environment. For many years the average seminarian lives, studies and recreates in an environment which provides minimal contact with or input from women. What lesson is learned by this absence of women? How well does this help seminarians make the transition to our highly seductive society? How does this prepare them to develop more than a theoretical understanding of the lrDonald W~ MacKinnon, "The Nature and Nurture of Creative Talent." Lecture given at Yale University,New Haven, Conm, April I I, 1962. 660 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 needs, abilities and conflicts of women who may come to them for counsel? Celibacy has to be lived in a heterosexual society. Rules against hetero-social contacts during periods of formation do not guarantee proper de-velopment. If seminarians have to compensate for the lack of women in their edu-cational experience, they will attempt to do so without the guidance of their faculty. They will use apostolic assignments or vacations to seek both heterosocial and heterosexual experiences which would otherwise be de-nied them during regular periods of education. In some instances, the relationships which develop will be maintained in secret. Such experiences are often invested with many romantic and sometimes bizarre fantasies of meaning. They also provoke much guilt and tension and sometimes incite fears which are repressed, producing unconscious conflicts with conse-quent anxiety. It has become increasingly evident that when problems of relating to women have to be faced in secret it makes for lonely failures. The seminarian who is separated and/or alienated from women for whatever reason (fear, ignorance, choice or official policy) must turn with more urgency upon himself or others in his immediate environment to meet his needs for recognition, affiliation and love. In such homogenous popula-tions, expressions of affection and physical contact are cautiously exposed and become over-invested with meaning. There is an ever present fear that such gestures will be interpreted as, or turn into, homos6xual intimacies. This kind of tension often remains unacknowledged, but is nonetheless virulent. It produces much frustration and resentment which is often en-countered by the psychologist in the form of depression, displaced ag-gression, problems of concentration, coldness in interpersonal contacts, compulsive masturbation, isolation, and the rise of tight cliques. Each institution should provide appropriate opportunities for seminarians to learn about, and become comfortable with, members of the opposite sex. "Social restrictions" and "sexual abstinence" should not be confused. The concepts are not isomorphic. Policies and regulations which forbid or delimit heterosocial contacts do not automatically insure healthy attitudes toward self-regulation or guarantee the development of the capacity for abstinence in later life. Celibates also need to realize that abstinence does not automatically confer the capacity to love people in general any more than incontinence in marriage increases love for someone in particular. Neither the frustration nor the expression of the sex drive is innately di-rected toward the good. The capacity for sex in humans simply endows them with the potential of becoming psychosexually mature. It is in inter-actions with others that opportunities for growth and understanding de-velop. The Environment's Models Seminary administrators must realistically assess the extent to which members of their faculty are prepared by virtue of education, experience Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 66"1 and personal disposition to participate in those aspects of the formation program which relate :to human sexuality. Many priests have had poor preparation and limited experience and would be ill at ease or unsuited for such responsibility. It would be unfair and unwise to neglect such con-siderations. If present faculty are not comfortable with their own sexuality or are incompetent in their understanding of it, they cannot project them-sel~, es as adequate role models or teach effectively. Example is stronger than precept. Students need visible proof that it is possible to be mature and well-integrated sexually in the priesthood. There is nothing more demor-alizing to seminarians than examples of underdeveloped faculty charged with responsibility for their preparation of a life of celibate ministry. Modeling is a powerful force for formation and growth. It assists the seminarian in coping with the stresses of his environment, aids in the development of responsibility and helps perpetuate the valu6s that define the priesthood. More than anything else, a seminary must offer models who are worthy of imitation. Such models should be capable of candid con-versations concerning celibacy. They should exhibit desirable patterns of male-female interaction. They should be persons who have not distanced themselves from their own sexuality. They should not be overly constricted academicians or overly eager confidantes who take students under their wing to protect them from conflicts with celibacy. The, y should be able to take questions from Students without becoming overly threatened, angry or embarrassed. They should be the kind of advisers who are not impelled to define venereal sin whenever a student discloses a sexual problem. I emphasize the importance of appropriate role models because they are the most available source of identification with the priesthood. Good mod-els teach and motivate simultaneously. On the other hand, poor models lead to unhealthy identifications and raise the anxiety leV,el of students. For example, seminarians exposed to poor models are apt to say to t.hemselves, "Will I turn out like him ?" when they should be saying about a good model, "I want to be like him." Healthy identification reduce~ fear and anxiety about the priesthood. When a seminarian can identify with an exemplary person, his sub-jectiv~ benefit is that he believes he is part of the exemplary person. When that happens, he is freer to ease away from infantile or regressive tend-encies. He gives up his more childish and selfish desires because he is acquiring positive, generative adulthood in return. Good faculty models can illustrate that genital expression is not the essence of warmth, masculinity, and friendship. Seminaries, like other educational institutions, have faculties which possess a range of competencies and wide variations in levels of maturity. This is not the issue. The significant issue is how we recognize this fact of life. This recognition should take the form of careful assignment of re-sponsibility in this area, use Of competent consultants, and support for regular in-service training and continuing education for the faculty. 662 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 With a view toward offering more specific suggestions for helping semi-narians' progress toward sexual maturity the following guidelines are offered: I. Maintain high standards in the selection of candidates. This would require'defining criteria, and training the admissions committee to do its job well. The seminary environment is not suited to be a place where major reconstructive therapy can be conducted. Persons of weak char-acter, sociopathic tendencies and serious personality defects may find the seminary environment a haven for their limitations, but once or-dained they do not make good priests. They eventually create compli-cated and expensive personnel-management problems, alienate the laity, perform po6rly and thereby threaten the work of their colleagues, and remain visibly inadequate models for attracting future vocations. 2. Provide professional counseling as a regular part of seminar3, services. This will enable students with relatively minor psychological problems to be assisted in their development. In addition, each seminary envi-ronnhent will inevitably produce certain situational dist~arbances in a proportion of its students. These are transient disorders from a mild to severe nature which occur without any underlying mental pathology. They represent normal reactions to such stressful factors as disruption of previously established interpersonal relationships, fear of faculty dis-approval and unfamiliar academic demands. It is important to detect and recognize such adjustment reactions quickly and have counseling ser-vices available to help students cope. Sometimes an orientation course for first year men will head off some of these situational disorders. 3. Course offerings in the area of human sexuality and the practice of celibacy should be characterized by providing: (a) competence: they should offer suffi~:ient scientific content and contemporary material to enable s, tudents to learn the facts, social attitudes and real problems associated with human sexu.ality; (b) comfort: opportunity to discuss, question and dialogue without threat of ridicule, embarrassment, or fear of faculty or peer censure; (c) conviction: conveying in unmistakable terms.that growth in psychosexual maturity is a life long task which is part of every individual's priestly responsibility. " 4. Include women in the program in more than token fashion. Women can contribute as lecturers, panelists, and consultants. A feeling of security with women and an appreciation of their needs, values and competencies cannot be acquired in an all-male program. Their inclusion should not be prompted by condescension. For example, they should be included not to demonstrate that "women think diffeyently," but rather that they do think. The exclusion of women .hampers seminarians' development more than it insures it. 5. Exercise greater care in assessing readiness for celibacy. Programs of formation may need to place greater emphasis on assessing an indi- Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 663 vidual's psychological readiness to commit himself to celibacy. One must not assume that a seminarian's advancement in academic prepa-ration is indicative of other aspects of his readiness for priesthood. Conclusion In this paper sexuality and maturity were discussed in relation to celi-bate development. By general comment and specific illustration I attempted to show that psychosexual maturity is not only an abstract concept .but also an identifiable reality. I also tried to indicate that progress toward psycho-sexual maturity is made more by choice than chance, more by intelligent effort than passivity. In the process of offering these comments much emphasis was placed on what seminary educators can do to foster healthy celibate development. It would be misleading to leave the impression that I wished to understate the role of the individual. The young celibate must be encouraged and assisted to develop an increasing level of personal accountability for his psychosexual functioning. This can only be accom-plished if we view immaturity as a responsibility, not a crime to be followed by punishment or self-hate. Now Available As A Reprint Psychosexual Maturity in , Celibate Development by Philip D. Cristantiello Price: $.60 ~per copy, plus postage. Address" Review for Religious Room 428 6301 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis Robert F. Morneau Father Morneau's name is familiar to our readers. He resides at Holy Reedemer Center and teaches at Silver Lake College; Manitowoc, WI 54220. In teaching people the truths about his Father's kingdom, Jesus often used examples from nature: the simple sparrow, the lush lilies of the field, the unfortunate fig tree, the nonverbal clues of the sky, the miraculous yeast. Through these concrete images, deeper mysteries were unveiled opening the minds and hearts of people to the marvels of God's gracious love. We can do no better than to fall back on nature to attempt, through the use of analogy, to ponde~ the multifold facets of our faith. From the world of biology comes the notion of homeostasis which can assist us in under-standing the necessity of grounding our lives on solid rock. Dr. Hans Selye summarizes the essential meaning of this biological principle: It was the great French physiologist Claude Bernard who during the second half of the nineteenth century--well before anyone thought of stress--first pointed out clearly that the internal environment (the milieu interieur) of a living organism must remain fairly constant despite changes in its external environment, lie realized that "'it is a fixity of the mi6eu interieur which is the condition of free and independent life.'" Some fifty years later, the distinguished American physiologist, Walter B. Cannon suggested that "the coordinated physiological processes which maintain most of the steady states in the organism" should be called "'homeostasis" (from the Greek homoios, meaning similar, and stasis, meaning position), the ability to stay the same, or static. Homeostasis might roughly be translated as 'bstaying power."'~ ~Hans Selye, M.D., Stress Without Distress (New York: J. B. Lippincott Company,1974), pp. 34-35. 664 Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 665 The homeostatic principle, as applied to the external world, needs little documentation as to its importance due to the writings in the field of ecology. What needs considerable reflection is the importance and meaning of spiritual homeostasis, that reality in our spiritual lives which is the force enabling us to maintain a certain level of stability despite radical and often-times violent changes in our external environment. Spiritual homeostasis is the cultivation of a certain internal stability, developed through grace and discipline, that enables a person to "weather" the trials, temptations and sufferings of life in a reasonable manner. Several examples from observable nature might help in understanding the notion of homeostasis. A palm tree survives the violence of a hurricane because its roots (homeostatic elemen~t) are deeply embedded in the soil; the March kite maintains a modicum of stability because of its carefully attached tail; the sailboat does not become the plaything of the strong breeze because of its rudder. Roots, a weighted rag, and a vertical board each provide stability despite elements of stress and strain. By way of comparison, each of us must face the demands of life, demands arising from within and without. If we are not to be carried away by the high winds of life, there must be some grounding element providing continuity and sta-bility. This essay is a consideration of this grounding, of our spiritual homeostatic principle. A note of caution is in order: the inward journey, made either to con-struct our inner principles or to examine the ones that already direct our lives, involves risks and the universal fears 9f travelers. Carl Jung wrote of these risks: Wherever there is a reaching down into innermost experien~:e, into the nucleus of personality, most people are overcome by fright, and many run away . the risk of inner experience, the adventure of the spirit, is in any case, alien to most human beings,z Of a!l the reasons for hesitating to make the journey, perhaps the great-est fear lies in the possibility that we will find nothing there--no homeo-static principle grounding our lives in "substance." For all our talk, re-flecting and apodictic shouting, the interior could be empty--and who could live if that were true? Dante, in describing the precious coin of faith (the ultimate homeostatic principle) and its fine attributes, dares to ask the fatal question: Well have we examined The weight and alloy of this precious coin; But tell me if thou hast it in thy purse? 3 ~C. G. Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections, recorded and edited by Aniela Jaffa, translated from the German by Richard and Clara Winston (New York: Vintage Books, 1961). pp. 140-141. 3Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy, translated by Lawrence Grant White (New York: Pantheon Books, 1948), Canto 24, p. 171. 666/Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Just as the kite's tail needs periodic mending, just as the sailboat's rudder needs annual repairs', just as the tree's roots need constant contact with the dark rich soil, so each of us must make our own inward journey, despite risks and fears, to examine the quality and growth of our ho-meostatic principle. Let us take St. Paul as our "case study" and attempt to isolate his homeostatic principle. Even if the attempt fails, enough insight, might be provided for each of us to either clarify or construct our own spiritua! anchor. Pauline scholars might opt for one of the following passages as being central to Paul's spirituality, central in that all of life's experiences might be related to it for meaning and insight: Let your thoughts be on heavenly things, and n6t on things that are on earth, because you have died, and now the life you ha're is hidden with Christ in God.4 And I live now not with my own life but with the life of Christ who lives in me? Though not excluding the central~messages in the above two passages, my own personal choice of Paul's homeostatic principle comes from a passage in his letter to the Ephesians: Blessed be God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. who has blessed us with all ihe spiritual blessings of heaven in Christ. Before the world was made, he chose us, chose us in Christ, to be holy and spotless, and to live through love in his presence . ~ Taking as an hypothesis, that "to live through love in his presence" was Paul's spiritual cable, what are some of the implication's of this homeostatic principle? To Live: Union with the Spirit The Pepsi generation shouts out the challenge: Come alive! Whether or not a carbonated soda can achieve such a towering feat ~could be ques-tioned; the challenge cannot. We are called to choose life (Dt 30:15-20), to share in the fullness of life (Jn 10:10), to live injustice, love and faith (Mi 6:8). Yet, because of collective and personal sin, our existences are frag-mented and our potential lies dormant under piles of "shoulds," "tomor-rows," and "new years." We see but do not comprehend, listen but do not understand, touch but remain unaffected. Walter Kerr sees our dilemma in this light: If I were required to put into a single sentence my own explanation of the state of our hearts, heads, and nerves, 1 would do it this way: we are vaguely wretched because we are leading half-lives, halfheartedly, and with only one-half of our minds actively engaged in making contact with the universe about us.r 4Colossians 3:2-3. (All scriptural quotations are taken from the Jerusalem Bible.) ~Galatians 2:20. 6Ephesians 1:3-4 (italics mine, indicating the Pauline homeostatic principle). 7Walter Kerr, The Declhte of Pleasure (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1962), p. 12. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 667 Every so often someone crosses our path whose very spirit exudes life. Sparkling eyes, a lightness of voice, gentle responses, all mark a sense of meaningand motivation. A personal creativity overflows, smoldering wicks and healing,crushed reeds (Is 42:3). Such a presence is anticipated with longing and remembered with joy. He gives life because he has life within. A .quality of transparency allows all he meets to. taste and see life itself. In the presence of such a life-giver the question spontaneously arises: "What is all .this juice and all this joy (Hopkins)?" The Christian traces such a spirited life to the Spirit. God the Father and "therisen Lord haye sen't, into all creation their Spirit. Whoever receives this Spirit truly comes alive. Whoever refuses the Spirit or fails to recognize the the Spirit's presence lives in darkness, half-alive, wallowing in ignorance and fear, fretting'in anxieties and tears, doubting the meaning of existence. A spiritless Macbeth, no longer able to sustain his guilt, attempts to pre-serve. a modicum of sanity,by denying,the meaning of life: Out, bul brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And t.hen is heard no more;it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Sign.ifying nothing,s Without the Spirit darkness reigns and we curse that darkness. Life be-comes a burden too difficult to bear,and freedom a poisonous responsibility. St. Paul was graced with the gift of the Spirit. To live was to be in conscious, personal union, with this Reality and to act from this center. Three basic forms of acting out a Spirit-transformed mind and heart include a spirit of loving attention, a spirit of joyful mortification and a spirit of courageous action. Aliveness in Paul's life embraces a balanced life of prayer, asceticism and apostolate, all flowing from his being loved by God and attempting to live in return. The quality and tonality of,the response is crucial. Each of these three areas, though of significance in and of them-selves, is entirelydifferent when shared in fellowship with the Spirit and is essentially response, to a personal invitation to communicate with, to suffer with, and to work with the Spirit of the Father and the Son. This divine companionship doubles all the victories in .building up the kingdom and halves the apparent defeats. Spirit of loving attention. It is possible to be attentive to someone or something without love. The hostile stare or the crowded "personless" elevator ride are two instances. A vague'love is also possible, unable to center on a defined object: "I love humanity but find it difficult to love individual people." Such forms of attentiveness and unspecified love do not allow us to live fully, God's Spirit draws us to truly :see, perceive, com-prehend the creation in which we live. Pausing to be embraced by a spring 8William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act V, sc. v, lines 23-28. 661~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 flower, stopping suddenly to be swept heavenward by a starry night, being swept off one's feet by a warm night breeze are strains of deeper mysteries and realities. So many layers blocking our sensitivity must be penetrated if we are to be touched by outside realities; so much cluttering has made us inattentive to the voices of friends and the needs of the wounded, Poets are eternal prophets calling all of us to attention, to a loving attention of truth and beauty: Look at the stars! Look, look up at the skies! O look at all the fire-folk sitting in the air! 9 The homeostatic principle ("to love . . .") in the life of St. Paul con-tained a deep love and a profound concentration as he journeyed through life. Because of this not only the man but his writings are so alive. Spirit of joyful mortification. Paradoxically, life embraces death, self-actualization of necessity involves self-denial. Without reflecting on this phenomenon, most of us would have to struggle to accept the comple-mentarity of the living-dying mystery. Yet if we glance for a moment into the lives of people who have evidenced life to the full, we come across the fact of much voluntary suffering and dying. Teresaof Avila, called by God to reform her religious community, freely accepted the ridicule and ha-rassment that went along with this leadership role; Thomas More, request-ed by his king to sign his name to a document which would mean that his life would be spared, freely accepted death rather than lose his integrity and be unfaithful to his God; Cardinal Newman, drawn to the Roman Catholic Church, followed his religious belief in the face of the pain of being alien-ated from friends and kin by such a decision. In each case there was tremendous suffering; in each case there was new, powerful life. The de-mands were not limited to a giving of one's time and energy, rare com-modities in themselves, but a giving on a much deeper levbl: the giving of oneself. A denial of self for the sake of life we identify as mortification. Is it possible to speak of joyful mortification? Two considerations come to mind. First, there is joy in the act of mortification because the focus rests not on the suffering, though it is the immediate fact, but centers on the life that comes through the self-denial. Had Teresa of Avila dwelt on the sneers and raised eyebrows of some members of her order, her call to reformation could well have been delayed for some time; had Thomas More dwelt on the pain of execution, his commitment to the truth might have been threatened; if Cardinal Newman had centered on the anguish and affliction resulting from separating himself from so many dear friends, his conversion would have become increasingly difficult. The secret of their ability to deny them~ selves and accept the price of asceticism wasa vision of the good that would be achieved. "Joy is the knowledge that we possess something that is good" (Abbot Marmion). And though the good may well be miles down the road and a matter of long-range consequences, those who see are.enabled to joyfully deny themselves. 9Gerard Manley Hopkins, "'The Starlight Night." Spiritual Staying Power." Homeostasis / 669 A second, more powerful and more personal reason for joy lies in the fact that the Christian practices mortification in union with the. Lord. Just as Jesus suffered freely in reconciling the world to the Father, so too the Christian must pick up his cross voluntarily if he truly desires to share in the risen life. Failure to suffer in union with Christ runs the risk of self-righteousness, false pride and inevitable sadness. The grace needed is the generosity to do all things in Christ. Our fasting, our giving of time, our withhOlding that "brilliant insight''~° so that others might be free to speak, are all forms of denying self but in conjunction with the Lord. Joy results in sharing life together--whether that embraces health or illness, success or failure, peace or conflict--the important thing being the mutuality and not the positive or negative experience. Mortification takes on ful[ reality as one means of participation in the life of Christ. This fellowship, this partic-ipation, is the source of our joy. St. PauFs aliveness is characterized by both joy and mortification. His letters to the early ~Christian churches, permeated with so much suffering yet with an ex~ravaga~at generosity, provide us with sufficient evidence that Paul might well be a paradigm for all aspiring ascetics: For 1 am certain of this: neither death nor life, no angel, no price, nothing that exists, nothing still to come, not any power, or height or depth, nor any created thing, can ever come between us and the love of God made visible in Christ Jesus our Lord?~ We are only the earthenware jars that hold this treasure, to make it clear that such an overwhelming power comes from God and not from us. We are in difficulties on all sides, but never cornered; we see no answer to our problem, but never despair; we ~ have been persecuted, but never deserted; knocked down, but never killed; always, wherever we may be, 'we carry with us in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus, too, may always be seen in our body. Indeed, while we are still alive, we are consigned toour death every day,.for the sake of Jesus, so that in our mortal flesh the life of Jesus, too, may be openly shown. So death is at work in us, but life in you?z Paul's homeostatic principle dealt directly witch the external pressures that could have possibly destroyed his internal equilibrium. Graced with the Spirit of joyful mortification, those pressures and possible destructive forces were turned into growth experiences. Spirit of courageous service. Living involves doing. Through the in-carnational activity of enfleshing one's mission in word and deed, St. Paul strove to realize his calling as the apostle to the Gentiles and to bring about the reconciliation which was the work of Christ. Paul's metabolism was seldom low. ,~fter rechanneling his energies beginning with the Damascus experience., he responded to God;s call in building up the kingdom of God. His activism flowed from interior prayer and self-denial. Paul's life was balanced and full. ~o,,. and when he saw that the splendor of one of his pictures in the Exhibition dimmed his rival's that hung next to it, secretly took a brush and blackened his own." Essay by R. W. Emerson entitled "Character." ~Romans 8:38-39. ~z2 Corinthians 4:7-12. 670 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 One central dimension of Paul's apostolic work was bearing witness to the good news of Jesus Christ, God's love made visible to the world, A typical example is recorded in the Acts when Barnabas and Paul arrive at Antioch. How many times this type of sharing must have happened: On their arrival they assembled the church and gave an account'of all that God had done with them, and how he had opened the door of faith to the pagans.~3 In this particular instance the message and faith sharing was received with openness and joy, and they remained in Antioch for some time. More often, in attempting to fulfill the task of being an instrument of God's saving power among men, Paul was rejected and sometimes 6eaten (Ac 14:19; 2 Co l l:24ff). Speaking the truth involved paying a pric~. But since the truth - leads to freedom, the goal of the spiritual life, Paul had to speak it to remain true to his calling. He did not take the adx;ice of the old Turkish proverb: "He that would speak the truth must have one foot in the stirrup.''14 Missioned, being sent, seldom is limited to verbal sharing. Such was the case with St. Paul. He was commissioned to heal by living out the message he preached. Paul was a battle scarred disciple: Paul's concern for the poor, his gathering of money, evidence a social consciousness; his commitment to and vision of God's universal salvific will elicited extravagant energies to actualize this goal; his unwillingness to impose himself on others, thus being a burden to them, meant the retention of his tent mak!ng profession. Sensitive to'a variety of human and spiritual needs, skilled with the competencies and graced with love, Paul reached out to his fellow pilgrims helping them to grow as humari beings and preparing them to experience the good news of God's mercy and love. "To live" embraces loving attention, joyful mortification and coura-geous service. Paul is a fine model in that he followed Christ so well. Every Christian is challenged to get caught up into this way of living. The fi~st integrating ribbon on the tail of.our March kite provides solid material for homeostasis. It balances, stabilizes, as well as anchors the Christian in some depth realities. "To live" is to be one with the Spirit of Jesus and the Father; it involves a sharing in the Spirit ofcontemplatik, e prayer, voluntary asceticism and social concern. Through Love: Union with the Risen Lord The central experience of human life is being loved. So important is this experience that without it there is no hope of happiness and~minimal ex-pectation for sanity. The good news contained in the life of Jesus testifies once and for all that everyone is loved, "that our own existence in fact testifies to nothing less than our being loved by the Creator.''~5 Objectively 13Acts 14:27. ~'~See John W. Gardner and Francesa Gardner Reese, Know or Listen to Those Who Know (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1975), p. 233. ~SJosef Pieper, About Love, translated by Richard and Clara Winston (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1972), p. 31. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 671 this is the~ase; Subjectively, whether ornot we come to taste the truth of God's love, this is the most significant question of our lives. St. Paul experienced God's love: what was objectively true from the first moment of his existence became subjectively a reality when he surrendered to the call of grace. Love experienced meant a rebirth which radically changed his entire existence. Throughout the rest of his life's journey and beyond, he lived "through love" in God's presence. Though Paul knew that God's love for him was triune, it was in and through Jesus that the Father's fidelity and the Spirit's indwelling were revealed. Thus, we can focus on the quality and texture of Christ's personal love for Paul as we examine the second element in the suggested Paulirie h6meostatic principle. In doing this we realize that Paul knew that c~on-version was primarily an interior reality touching the mind and hdart. His being thus transformed interiorly showed itself in the external conversion of life-style. It is the transforming presence of Christ in our hearts and the knowledge of this love in our understanding that brings about spiritual renewal: Out of his infinite glory, may he give you the power through his Spirit for your hidden self to grow strong, so that Christ may live in your hearts through faith, and then, planted in love and built on love, you will with all the saints have strength to grasp the breadth and the length, the height and the depth; until, knowing the love of Christ, which is beyond all knowle~dge, you are filled with the utter fulness qf God.~ ' To live through love means to live in Christ Jesus; to allow his wisdom to shape our attitudes, to surrender'to his affectivity which transforms our hearts, and to .be enabled through his power to share with others the gifts that we have received. Jesus' Wisdom To live in union with the loving Lord necessarily means to be embraced by his wisdom and to share in that gift. In the book of Wisdom we are told that the gift of wisdom has these traits: 1) wisdom is the consort of God's throne; 2) to lack the wisdom is to count for nothing; 3) wisdom knows God's works; she was present when the world was made; 4) wisdom under-stands what is pleasing in God's eyes; she teaches this; 5) wisdom knows and' understands everything,lr Insight and deep knowledge can be cold and sterile. Such is not the case of the wisdom of Christ in whi~zh Paul shared. Rather it was a loving knowledge leading the intellect to true and full understanding. Throughout the ages various writers have noted the' relationship between love and the cognitive dimension of human knowing: Thus love is the parent of faith.l~ ~SEphesians 3:16-19. ~TWisdom 9:1-6, 9-11. iSJohn Henry Newman, "Holy Scriptures" in Essays and Sketches (New York: Longman, Green & Co., 1948), p. 328. 672 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 We could almost say he sees because he loves, and therefore loves although he sees?9 What ha~ to be healed in us is our true nature, made in the likeness of God. What we have to learn is love. The healing and the learning are the same thing, for at the very core of our essence we are constituted in God's likeness by our freedom, and the exercise of that freedom is nothing else but the exercise of disinterested love--the love of God for his own sake. because he is God. The beginning of love is truth, and before he Will give us his love, God must cleanse our souls of the lies that are in them.2° To live through love means that the truth given us enables us to see and to believe. Jesus' love provides us with a vision of reality thereby scattering darkness and ignorance. Wisdom is to know the Father, a Father of loving fidelity and infinite mercy; our wisdom is to live from this central insight. "Through love" contains both a passive and active dimension: we are first loved in truth (passive) and then are missioned to reach out in deep concern (active). In the spiritual classic The Cloud of Unknowing, the importance of living and acting within God's love is stressed: The work of love not only heals the roots of sin, but nurtures practical goodness. When it is authentic you will be sensitive to every ne6d and respond with a generosity unspoiled by selfish intent. Anything you attempt to do without this love will certainly b~ imperfect, for it is sure to be marred by ulterior motives,z~ St. Paul told the Philippians to have the same attitude that Christ had. This exhortation was grounded in lived experience, for Paul had himself put on the mind and attitudes of Christ. Paul's vision, his judgments and con-ception of life resembled those of Jesus who focused on the Father. In the letter to the Ephesians, Paul gives evidence of how gifted he was with God's loving wisdom when, in his letter, he describes the divine plan of salvation (Ep 1:3-14). Two verses of that magnificent passage provide sufficient wit-ness to that wisdom: He has let us know the mystery of his purpose, the hidden plan he so kindly made in Christ from the beginning to act upon when the times had run their course to the end; that he would bring everything together under Christ, as head, everything in the heavens and everything on earth.22 Jesus' Affectivity To live through love for Paul was to experience transformation of one's heart. Paul was a man deeply in love; how else explain his commitment and unmatched zeal. The love of the risen Lord touched the very center of Paul's being in an intimate and personal way, resulting in a response of deep affectivity; his heart was on fire with the concern that Jesus showed him. Several centuries after Paul, another Christian underwent a spiritual heart ~9C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (New York: The Seabury Press, 1961), p. 57. Z°Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1948), p. 451. ~The Cloud of Unknowing, edited by William Johnston (New York: Doubleday, Inc., 1973), ZZEphesians 1:9-10. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 673 transplant after much struggle. This was St. Augustine. He emerged from "surgery" with the strong convi6tion that true life must flow from the heart: Follow the Lord, if you will,be perfect, a comrade of those among whom he speaks wisdom, who knows what to distribute to the day and to the night, so that you also may know it and so that for you lights may be in the firmament of heaven. But this will not be done unless your heart is in it.~ If wisdom touches out.minds with truth, God's gracious love seeks to touch our hearts. Why is it that so many defense mechanisms come into play at this level? Perhaps the fear of intimacy makes us cautious; what will be-demanded if I allow the Lord entrance into my life? Paradoxically we seek and' need intimacy yet flee when it is offered. The conditions of intimacy--commitment, self donation, giving up self-sufficiency--give us cause to hesitate. The tragic possibility of "having no heart" or allowing our hearts to become hard and calloused are dreadful alternatives to intP macy. Literature often speaks to this point: But 1 feel nothing, she whispered to herself. I have no heart.~4 Pity me that the heart is slow to learn What the swift mind beholds'at every turn,~5 ¯ His sorrows will not be slight. His heart is proud and hard.2~ Jesus came to save the'whole person, and ali people. His love for us was integral and he sought a total response. Using the book of Deuteronomy, Jesus. teaches: "and you must love the Lord your God. with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength" (Dt 6:4-5). Realizing in faith that God first loved us, now weare to respond in love to a God who desires our hearts. Having' been gifted with love, we return that gift. by loving the Father as Jesus did and by serving in the building up of the kingdom. Jesus' Power As God's gracious love transforms the interior of the Christian life, creating a new heart and shaping a new mind, there are external mani-festations indicating a new, powerful wayof life. The power of Jesus was evidenced in his love, joy, peace, in his constant patience, goodness, kind-ness, in his trustful'ness, gentleness and self-control (Ga 5:22). Through these signs of the Spirit, the Father's love and mission were incarnated. Following the Master, Paul challenged the Galatians as well as hin~self~to live out these values. For the sake of clarification, Paul's letter to the people of Galatia also provided concrete instances of what happens when internal renewal of heart and mind has not taken place. The "old self" of indulgence and weakness surfaces when these results are present: ZSThe Confessio;~s of St. Augustine, translated by John K~ Ryan, Book XII1, Chapter 19 (New °York: Image Book, 1960), p. 350. 24Thornton Wilder, The Bridge ofSatt Luis Re3' (New York: Washington Square Press, Inc,, 1955), p. 112. ~Edna St. Vincent Millay's "'Pity Me Not Because the Light of Day." Z~Herman Hesse, Siddhartha. 674 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 fornication, gross indecency and sexual irresponsibility; idolatry and sorcery; feuds and wrangling, jealousy, bad temper and quarrels; disagreements, factions, envy; drunkenness, orgies and similar things. 1 warn you now, as I warned you before: those who behave like this will not inherit the kingdom of God'.27 In using the power given him by the Father~; Jesus brought about change and renewal in the lives of many. In calling Zaccheus down from the tree an entire household was converted; in washing the feet of the disciples they came to realize that to follow the Lord was,.t0 serve; in calling Mary by name in the garden, depression and fear gave way to hope and joy. The very presence of Jesus was power, transforming darkness~into light, doubt into faith, apathy into love. His gaze, the tone of voice, the transparency of the Father's love were creative for anyone with the eyes. of faith. When that faith, was not there, Jesus experienced the pain of powerlessness and he bore that cross with much pain: Wherever growth took place, Jesus, in humility, realized that it was rooted in the Father's abiding presence and an expression of the Father's love. Paul lived through love which Christ had for him; this love power m~ade the apostle to the Gentiles into a new man. Then, having experienced the burning power of God's call in Jesus, Paul was enabled in love to exert power in bringing others to the Father. In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul describes the source, purpose and strength of the Christian way of life: It is all God's work. It was God who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the work of handing on this reconciliation. In other words, God in Christ recon-ciling the world to himself, not holding men's faults against them, and he has'entrusted to us the news that they are reconciled. So we are ambassadors, for Christ; it is as though God were appealing through us, and the appeal that we make in Christ's name is: be reconciled to God.28 To accomplish the work of the Father, power was necessary. Paul was well aware that the gifts and energies given him were not for personal gain but for others. What mattered was that all people might be in union with God, that reconciliation become a fact. The vision of faith was translated into life through the strength and ~courage given by the Father. Paul became an ambassador; a messenger entrusted with precious news. Through the power of proclamation and the courage of deeds, Paul shared the message of God's loving forgiveness with the people of his day, and with. us who are privile'ged to read his letters in faith. To live through love, then, meant for Paul a dwelling in the love of Christ Jesus. Through grace he would take on the mind and heart of the Lord as well as the power of his hands. Living through love implied an imperative: through his personal love for his fellowmen, Paul must continue the process of conversion in the lives of those whom he was called to serve. The gift given, God's love and forgiveness must be passed on. 27Galatians 5:19-21. 282 Corinthians 5:18-20. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasisr / 675 In His Presence: Union With the Father Several years ago~ I was speaking with a friend about the well-being of a former classmate. His response was simple and profound: "He's all right, he lives in His presence." This type of centering provides peace and be-comes the source of a "holy" life. Monica, the mother of Augustine, lived in the land of faith. Her son writes: o ¯ . . and she h'ad you (God)oas her inward teacher in the school of her heart . Whosoever among them khew her greatly praised.you, and honored you and loved you in her, because they recognized your presence in her heart, for the fruit of her holy ¯ life bore witness to this3~ C. S. Lewis, after the death of his wife, recorded an experience of presence that analogously applies to the God-man relationship: ¯ . . she seems to meet me everywhere. Meet is far too strong a word. l don't mean anything remotely like an apparition or a voice. I don't mean even any strikingly emotional experience at any particular moment. Rather, a sort of unobtrusive but massive sense that she is, just as much as ever, a fact to be taken into account,a° Faith draws us to the basic fact that the Father is always with us in a variety of ways.~The:problem is not so much cognitive as it'is experiential; through a lack of pro~er disposition we live outside of God's presence (this is sin at the deepest I~vel). God is still with us but w~ live as though this were not the case. ,, In his excellent treatise The Problem of~God, John Courtney Murray emphasizes t.he importance of presence: Over against the inconstancy and infidelity of the people; who continually absent themselves from God, the Name Yahweh affirms the constancy of God, his un-changeable fidelity to his promise of presence?~ He (God) is present as the Power. Presence involves transparency; one sees through the veil.of otherness into the other and knows his quality, intentions, attitudes. Thus, through h~s mighty works, God becomes transparent to hts people. He ts known to be present m ffi~thful goodness. : . . In all h~s works of judgment as of rescue, Yahweh becomes transparent, known to his people, who name him'from their experience of his works,a2 St. Paul cam~ to experience the pror~ise of God's dwelling with his people throug.h grace. Then, empowered;l~y the Spirit and 'h~aled through the power of JeSus, Paul could write to the Romans that "everyone moved b-Y the Slbirit is a son of GoiJ'~ find that it is~this Spirit that "makes us cry 6ut, ~abba, Father! . (Rm ~: 14-!$). Assuming the identity bf h so~, Paul j.ourneyed to the Father. ' ¯ zaConfessions, Book IX, Chapter 9, p. 220¯ abA Grief Observed, p. 22. aUohn Courtney Mut~'ay, The Proble'm of God (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1964), p. 11~ 321bid., pp. 14-15. 676 / Review for; Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Father's Covenant The covenant theme is central throughout all of scripture. God's word reveals the mystery of his desire to dwell with his people in a close intimate relationship. God committed himself to beour Father~ and callS us to be his people. Thus in forming a nation through. Abraham; in giving the law and the prophets, in sending Jesus to reconcile, in forming a Spirit-filled Church, the Father continues to dwell in history, the God oftimg and space. St. Paul experienced the covenant relationship with the Father; he dwelt in the Father's tent, listening to the Father's voice and venturing f?rth to share that word with others. Refusal of God's covenant is sin. Acceptance of it is grace and life. Our home is to be with God. The psalmist knew the joy of dwelling with Yah-weh: A single day in your courts is worth more than a thousand elsewhere; ~, merely to stand on the steps of God's house is better than living with the wicked,a3 Paul had spent years living out the covenant relationship: With the encounter and surrender to Christ, he gained access to the Father'.s dwell-ing. Having tasted darkness, he now knew the warmth and light of grace. To live in his presence meant life itself; anything else was death: But because of Christ, I have come to con~ider all these advantages (of the Law) as disadvantages. Not only that, but I believe that nothing can happen that will outweigh the supreme advantage of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For him I have accepted the loss of everything, and I look on everything as so much rubbish if only I can have Cl~dst and be given ~ place in him.a4 Father's Kingdom and Will ,~ To live in the Father's presence means necessarily to get caught up into the kingdom and the will of God. "God's kingdom is no fixed, existing order, but a living, nearing thing. Long remote, it now advances, little by little, and has come so close as to demand acceptance. Kingdom of God means a state in which God is king and consequently rules."35 Indeed, for St. Paul the very presence of the Father within his life was synonymous with the surrender of his freedom. Decisions now w~re made in faith and out of love; freedom given meant freedom gained. By relating all to the furthering of the kingdom, a deep singleness of the heart (purity) governed and unified the apostle's life. All was new. The kingdom is achieved by doing the Father's will. Jesus' obedience unto death was the paradigm. Paul's highly developed sense of discernment allowed him to hear the voice of the Lord and the grace of the moment meant a response in faith. This listening and responding pattern charac- 3aPsalm 84:10. a4Philippians 3:7-9. a~Romano Guardini, The Lord (Chicago: Henry Regnery Company, 1954), p. 37. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 677 terized Paul's life; it meant that the Father's will was being accomplished. Paul's prayer for the Colossians indicates the centrality of God's will: ¯. we have never0failed to pray for you~ and'what we ask God is that through perfect wisdom and spiritual:understanding you should reach the'fullest knowledge of his will. So you~ will be able,~to lead the kind of life which the Lord expects of you, a life acceptable to him in all its aspects; showing the results in all good actions you do and increasing your knowledg~e of God.a6 Knowledge of the Father's will is no intellectual abstraction; it demands commitment and actions which are pleasing to God. This holy pragmatism stresses the dynamism of Paul's ministry and his challenge to those who follow tile Lord. To,~iive in his presence, with the implicit willingness to promote the kirigdom by doing the Father's will, means that selfishness and non-scrip-tural behavior are elements in opposition to the life of Christ. Yet these elements never t6t~lly disappear from life. There is that constant struggle to allow the Lord to truly be I~ord ofourqives; there are the perennial temff-tat~ ons that lead toward' idolatry and~ wedge things and people between ourselves and the Father. Paul's life had; to face the'se struggles; his life was one 'of continual conversion. His candid confession in his letter to the Rom~ins"(7:14-15) magnificently expresSes the inward division of every person. Only through the grace of Christ does healing take place and only through that grace can we center bn the Father's kingdom and will. Without it we flounder on stormy waters. Father's Honor and Glory 'Life invol~'es two essential questions: what we do and why we do what v~E ~o. This latter question deals with the motivation. Our intentions not only reve~al our philosophy of life bu~ ultimately give us our sense of iden-tity.~ The Christian challenge 'is to Center our lives on God, to serve and love for his honor and 'glory. Self-serving and self-preserving tendencies block purity of'intention. Constantly we a~e invited to ever deeper levels of convei~sion as we strive to focus our attention on the mystery of God. Often Paul directly called the people he served to recognize to whom all honor and glory belonged: Glory'be to him whose power, working in us', can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine3 glory be to him from generation to genera~tion in the Church and in Christ Jesus forever and ever. Amen.3r Glory to him who is able to give you the strength to live according to the Good News I preach, and in which I proclaim Jesus Christ. the revelation of a mystery kept secret for endless ages, but now so clear that it must be broadcast to pagans everywhere to bring them to the obedience of faith. , . . He alone is wisdom; give glory therefore to him through Jesus.Christ forever and ever. Amen.36 a~Colossians 1:9-10: aTEphesians 3:20-21. 38Romans 16:25-27. Review for ReligiouS, Volume 37, 1978/5 In return, my God will fulfill .all your needs, in Christ Jesus, as lavishly as only.God can. Glory to God, our Father, forever and ever. Amen.as Honor and glory are due to God because of his majesty. The believer breaks forth in praise when God reveals himself. It is, impossible to remain silent when Truth and Goodness and Beauty inundate the human spirit. Faith allows us to encounter the living and true God; Our response is that of praise. Using Thomistic theology, Gabriel Braso describes well the meaning of honor and glory: , Glory is clear knowledge together with praise of the excellence of a'nother: clara ' notitia cure laude. Honor is the ackno~vledgment of this same e~cellence. Honor and glory, then, are acts by which our intellect recognizes an excellence existing in another being and finds it worthy of praise. Our will, on its part, accepts this superi-ority as a good to which it is well to tend, and, rejoicing in that good which another. prssesses, proclaims it and bears witness to it before others.4° The atmosphere in which Paul lived, namely,0the loving presen~ze of the Father, provides the springboard for his work, personal relationships and prayer. Not only did the apostle~ attempt to do. what was good for the well.being of others, he also lived from a very specifi~ level of.inten-tionality; he lived for God's honor and glory. Certainly the quality of this motivation varied at times, but the ideal was ever before Paul and he strove for it with tremendous zeal and dedication. Because .of this, he could write to others that they should follow his example. Conclusion The spiritual life is our participation in the paschal mystery. By means of principles and guidelines we h~ive some directions providing a perspec-tive from which to live this life in Christ. A homeostatic principle,is .~n internal reality giving continuity and stability to the faith life, especial!y when experiences of fragmentation tend to upset that life or when doubts attack :the human heart stripping it of meaning and feel,i, ng. Each person is challenged to discover and cultivate a personal homeostatic principle; it may remain constant throughout life or be modified in various ways. Be-sides St. Paul, other believers have articulated well what possibly might be their grounding point in the Lord: Yesterday 1 had a good morning. Once again when I recollect myself, I again find the same simple demands of God: gentleness, humility, charity, interior simplicity; noth-ing else is asked of me. And suddenly I saw clearly why these virtues are,demanded, because through them the soul becomes habitable for God and for one's neighbor in an intimate and permanent way. They make a pleasant cell of it. Hardness and pride repel, complexity disquiets. But humility and gentleness welcome, and simplicity reassures. These "'passive" virtues have an eminently social character.41 3aPhilippians 4t29-30~ 4°Gabriel M. Braso, O.S.B., Liturgy and Spirituality, translated by Leonard J. Doyle (Col-legeville, Minn.: The Liturgical Press, 1960), p. 59. o ~ 4IRaissh's Journal, presented by Jacques Maritain (Albany, NY: Magi Books, Inc.,1963), p. 71. Spiritual Staying Power: H~meostasis / 679 . my sole desire is that His name be praised, and that we should make every effort to serve a Lord who gives us such a reward here below . 4~ Lord, who has form'd me out of mud, And has redeem'd me through thy blood, And sanctifi'd me to do good; Purge all my sins done heretofore: For I confess my heavy score, And I will strive to sin no more. Enrich my heart, mouth, hands in me, With faith, with hope, with charity; That I may run, rise, rest with thee.4a Human life is lived at various levels. At times the surface of our lives can be filled with turmoil and anxieties while there is peace deep within. At other times, extei'nal forces are calm but our hearts are agitated and rest-less. This essay suggests that St. Paul was able to deal with the pressures, anxieties and trials of life because his life was grounded in God's life. Paul's desire, was "'to live through love in His presence." This homeostatic prin-ciple provided' stability and continuity as he sought to "run, rise, rest" with God. 4~The Complete Works of St. Teresa of Jesus, translated by E. Allison Peers, II (London: Sheed and Ward, 1946), p. 268. 43George Herbert, "Trinity Sunday." All I Needed Was the Violet The overwheimin~ evidence of your magnitude, O God, i~sdisplayed in the sequ0yia forest,~ the snow,crowned towering mountains, the throbbing pulse of the swaying oceans, the~ measureless ga!axies of tinknown space, and also in the perfection and beauty of a tiny violet. To believe in you, an~l to bow down in worship, all I needed ' was the violet. Everywhere I find you, , Your bountiful, awe-inspiring, praise-producing, heart-stirring, mind-boggling, argument-ending remin~lers are just too overwhelming for me. Viola Jacobson Berg 5 Roosevelt Ave. Malverne, NY 11565 Mount Athos: The Holy Republic Michael Azkoul Father Azkoul, a priest of the Russian Orthodox Church, has taught Church History at St. Louis University, as well as in other institutions. Presently he is attached to Seminex (Luth-eran Seminary in Exile) of St. Louis. He is married, with two children. He resides at 912 Bellstone Rd.; St. Louis, MO 63119. Mount Athos or "The Holy Mountain" is situated in northern Greece, on the Chaicedonean peninsula. Since 1922 this colony of monks has been a republic, a legally constituted political entity, a cluster of monasteries-- stauropeion, as the Orthodox say--immediately subject to the jurisdiction of the Patriarch of Constantinople. The Holy Mount is dedicated to the Blessed Virgin who, it is said, led its first inhabitants, perhaps as early as the sixth century, to establish this religious sanctuary where no female is allowed--nor "female animals-or beardless boys." There have been as many as 40,000 monks on this tiny strip of land jutting into the Aegean, but now Athos can hardly boast of 400 Who have surrendered themselves to the "life of the angels." The Holy Mountain has been crucial to the life of the Orthodox Church. Its monks have produced great music, art, theology, and given t6 the Church some of her greatest bishops and saints.1 Moreover, the history of Orthodoxy shows that monks, especially those of the holy mount, have been "defenders of the faith." No more typical example can be found than their behavior during the Iconoclastic Period when the Empress Theodora found the support of monks indispensable in her effort to restore icons to the Church. Her victory is commemorated on the first Sunday of the "Great ~Monk-saints of Athos are usually called Hagiorite, that is, of the holy (hagios) mountain (oros). 680 Mount Athos: The Holy Republic / 68"1 Lent," as the Sunday of Orthodoxy. This Christian triumph over Hellenism was as monastic as it was,ecclesiastical. The historical value of monasticism to the Church notwithstanding, its importance to Orthodoxy as the supreme embodiment of her Weltan- Schauung is what concerns us here: Mt. Athos as the microcosm of the whole, of Orthodoxy and monasticism, this is the special object of our attention. In truth, one cannot understand the Eastern Church unless one grasps the meaning of her monasticism. In other words, monks are not a class above the Church, but the highest stratum within the Church. They are "'the true and authentic Christians," as St. Basil the Great called them. Monks and nuns are the dynamis of Orthodoxy, its spiritual heroes, the archetypes of its piety, models of chastity, the totally committed who most perfectly express the first principle of Orthodox spirituality, "voluntary obedience.'" They are those Christians who mysteriously perfect the Church and the entire human race by perfecting themselves. Recognizing that the Church is divine and human, even as Christ himself, we come to understand what it means that they are eager to sanctify time, to bring creation closer to the end for which the Christian economy was re-vealed- the deification of the cosmos. The Nature of Orthodox Spirituality The Orthodox Weltanschauung is ascetical. This means that monks are not an erratic or exotic element in the Church, but her chief representatives. Their lives are a statement of denial as well as of affirmation: monks affirm the Christian revelation as the introduction of new life into an age domi-nated by the devil. Satan is the "god of the age," its very zeitgeist. He is the one to whom mankind was yoked by Adam's sin, the ancestral sin which rendered his posterity the heirs of bodily corruption and death. "Where-fore, as by one man sin entered the world and death by sin," St. Paul teaches, "0n account of death all have sinned" (Rm 5:12). In other words, man is not so much a scoundrel as a victim. Human suffering is not the result of God's punishment or vengeance, but the consequence of the devil's power over us through death--the last enemy. Thus, God became a man to destroy the devil and death, not to satisfy some debt incurred by humanity through the sin of Adam.~ For the Orthodox, there is no "original sin," as Augustine and the West have so long believed, only an act of disobedience which inaugurated de-monic tyranny. Baptism, therefore, does not eradicate an "inherited guilt" transmitted by procreation. How, indeed, as Pelagius asked the Augus-tinians, is "original sin" passed to the children of baptized parents if bap- ZSee J. S. Romanides, "'Original Sin According to Saint Paul," St. Vladimir Seminary Quar-terly. IV, I-2 ( 1955-1956), pp. 5-28. Fr. Romanides blames Augustine of Hippo for altering the Church's traditional understanding of Adam's sin and its consequences: and, therefore, the Christian theology of baptism. Review for Relig, ious, Volume 37, 1978/5 tism washes it away? Nor does baptism involve the complete regeneration of human nature--which would necessarily destroy even the capacity to sin. Rather, baptism removes the individual from the tyranny of the devil and incorporates us into the life of "the Second Adam," that is, the Church, the body of Christ, the new humanity, "the race of Christians," as St. Justin Martyr referred to the People of God. Moreover, the mystery of baptism initiates the process of deification--"the new birth," the process of our spiritual perfection through grace (which in Orthodox theology means God's "uncreated energy" extended to creation). We belong to that level of being in which the acquisition of the Holy Spirit, the "Giver of Life," becomes our r?tison d'ktre. In Christ, he is the Deifier. In the Church, the process of deification (salvation) involves, to be sure, prayer, fasting, the Mysteries (sacraments), saving knowledge (the "knowl-edge" of spiritual things, gnosis) and the constant struggle with the pas-sions, the struggle to overcome our Adamic nature, our mortal nature, .to overcome death, wrestling with devil while ascending the "ladder of per-fection," to borrow a phrase from St. John of the, Ladder (Climacus). The passions darken reason and enervate the will: they destroy freedom. Freedom is an internal condition, "the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free., from the yoke of bondage" (Ga 5:1). Thus, it does not mean, in the first instance, political or economic rights. These cannot exist unless we have been unchained from the Evil One who, as we have implied, seeks our negation through the passions, the perverse powers of our fallen nature, our nature yoked to death, to dying. We recognize the passions as pride or self-love, jealousy, lust, hate, contentiousness, despair, etc. There are passions of the body and passions of the soul, as St. Gregory of Sinai reminds us. They dwell in us from birth :and are aroused and strengthened by our environment, that is, by the devil working through our psyche, or by persons and things. The devil combats grace by the passions. Despite the Holy Spirit, our guardian angel, the ¯ intercession of the saints, we can lose our souls if we do not perceive the guile of the devil and undertake to oppose him; indeed, without the struggle, the Christian will soon fall away from the Church and into the power of the devil once more. As we have said, the passions are the means by which the devil seeks to recapture.us. He can get us back by winning our "heart," the spiritual citadel of man, the "subconscious," as some Orthodox theologians call it. (Orthodoxy, following the Fathers, has never viewed the "heart" as "the seat of the emotions~ especially love.") All instruments of reason are im-potent to search the abyss of the heart, although, as St. Symeon the New Theologian observed, discursive reason is given the role of "sentinel." The heart is that by which we believe unto salvation, by which we see God if our heart is pure (Mt 5:8: Rm 10:9), but also that from which, according to the Lord, "proceeds evil reasoning, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, lying, blasphemy .'" (Mt 15:19). Mount Athos: The Holy Republic No wonder, then, the Fathers admonish us to "guard the heart," to protect it from anything or anyone who might injure it, from any situation which leads to separation from God's grace. We may "'guard the heart" through obedience, humility, chastity, prayer, the Mysteries and, in par-ticular, by controlling the faculty of the "imagination." This is that power of the mind whereby it creates images, which forms sense-data into co-herent patterns, which allows the mind to visualize and, consequently, to judge and act. As the Greek Fathers say, every passion is the result of a "'sinful image." Reason may alert us to the danger, but if we cherish the "'sinful inlage,'".ifwe nourish and remember it--as one might past insult or betrayalBthen it overwhelms reason, penetrates the systems of conscious-ness and plunges into the heart. The "'sinful image" reemerges as a "pas-sion," the irrational force which comes to determine our thought and con-duct. Only strenuous ascetic exercise can purge the heart thereafter. The great weapon of protection and purgation is "the name of Jesus." His name is a terror to the devils, said St. Barsanuphius. We may pray, 'bLord Jesus Christ, Thou Son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner." The "desert fathers" recommend that this prayer be repeated slowly, quietly, sincerely. When said with.faith and understanding, it is not "vain repeti-tion." It becomes important to spiritual and mental health. Some Fathers have been known to have recited the "Jesus rPrayer'' all through the night--a prayer "without ceasing." Rightly practiced, it will eventually pass to and mysteriously, effortlessly, beat witti the organ of the heart. The "Jesus Prayer" becomes.the automatic "'Prayer of the Heart." Admittedly, those who have reached this perfection are very few. They are also those men and women who may preview already on earth the joys of heaven."~ Let us make one thing clear before we proceed. According to the Ortho-dox Church, "the religious experience" is never wholly "private" and never "anti-establishment." To be sure, the quality and intensity of that experience depends upon the holiness of the individual, but it is an ex-perience which transpires within the Church. We may call it "mystical," if we wish, but it is not the "'mystical experience" of a special person, a psychedelic, insulated, isolated, exotic, mayhaps erotic experience. In Orthodoxy, the "religious" or "'mystical experience" of any of her mem-bers- including the holy monk and nun--is the experience of the entire Church, relative, as we said, to the degree of sanctity. The Church is a soborny, a mystical, organic fellowship of believers, if for no other reason than that of the Holy Eucharist, "the mystical supper~" as St. John Chrysostom called it, enjoyed by all the faithful. " In connection with this matter, too, is the teaching of'the Eastern Church that truth is the product of mystical experience, that is, dogma is the product of holiness, not of ratiocination. But if truth follows from holiness, 3The Orthodox Church rejects the idea of the "'beatific vision" if by that is meant beholding the Essence of God, whether in this life or the next. The saved will see only the deified Christ "'face to face" (see Vladimir Lossky, The Vision of God: London, 1963). 684 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 then there is no surer vehicle of divine revelation than the monk, he who has committed his entire life to the fight with the devil and the struggle with the passions. As a matter of historical fact, the greatest teachers of the Church have been monks, whether clergy or not. It is correct to say, however, that the supreme witnesses to the Christian faith have been monks who were also bishops, since bishops have almost invariably drawn from the monastery. The bishop has sometimes been an abbott or "'elder" (staretz, geron) whose reputation for holiness and wisdom is unsurpassed. Historically, he was the confessor and counselor of kings and queens. Furthermore, the Orthodox Church has never failed to contain .great women ascetics, many of whom have been found in the convent. Through-out the centuries, they have been persons to whom Christians have turned for wisdom and consolation. Although women cannot teach in the Church nor become priests, they have been miracle-workers, iconographers, poets, models of virtue. St. Mary of Egypt dwelt in the desert for more thanforty years. By her miracles and preachment, St. Nina was ,the converter of Georgia in Russia. Numerous women saints have been given the honorific title "Equal to the Apostles," such as St. Helena, mother of the Emperor Constantine. The abbe

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 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 5.1 of the Review for Religious, 1946. ; ~,$ANUARY. 15, I94~ and Catholic Ac~tion. '." ~ .: s from the, Council of Trent . Joseph V. ¯ Augustine Heart of Mary-r. o. ~ ~'ho~as A. O'Conr ~etic Power Of Christ~ : ¯ ¯ ¯ .~- ¯ ~. " Malhchi ,J. ~Donn, 0__f E q_ u ~ ¯ " .~, , ~. ¯ ¯ LOu;s J; . ious Buy ~nd Sell? . ~.m c, Ouesfions .Answered RE 'FOR RELi VOLUME V bANUARY 15, 1946 NUMBER CONTENTS-PIUS X AND CATHOLIC ACTiON o ~seph V, Sommers. S,J . SPIRITUAL READINGS FROM THECOUNCIL OF TRENT--~'IIIm Augustine Klaas. S.J.' . OUR ~ONTRIBUTORS ,o-, . '-, . "WHAT'S A DOMINICAN?" " . . . ¯ 24 THE IMMACULATE'HEART OF MARYmThomas A, O'Connor. S,J, 25 INDEX OF BACK NUMBERS .~. . . ,.- , , 32 THE MAGNETIC POWER OF CHRIST~-~-" Mal~l~i J,D0r.nelly, S2J, ,-. 33 BOOKLETNOTICES . , ; ." .". ~ " " 39 17 24 ~ .) COMMUNICATIONS . - . ., . . . . 40 THE VIRTUE OF EQUITY~L~uis J. Puhl, STJ,~ . 4~3 BOOKS°RECEIVED , . . L , -, ', .- . 49 MAY RELIGIOUS BUY AND SELL?Adam C; Ellis, S,J, " " 50 BOOK' REVIEWS-- . Journey" in the Nighf; The Servant"of God. Mar~ Theresa Led6chowska;. The Heart of Man: The Wool Merchant of Segovia: World Christianity; How the People of Africa Live . . . ¯ . ~ . 66 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS--~- l".'Active and Passive 'Vote or Voice ¯ 70 2. Spiritual Director for "Professed Novices" . . 70 3. Confession before Communiqn 4. Successor,to Deceased Mother A'ssistant . . . . 71 5. Te Deum on Feast of St. Joseph . '. . 71 6. Repair Work On Suffday . 7. Re-election of Mother 'General after Eli, yen Years . 72 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January, 1946. Vol. V, NO. 1. 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 at the Post Ofl~c'e, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3/1879. Editorial Bgard: Ad.am C. Ellis/S.~., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, s.J. Editorial Secretaiy: Alfred F. Schneider, S.J~, ~" Copyright, 1946, by Adam C., Ellis'. Pdrmi~sion is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length~ provided due credit be given this, review and the author. Subseripti6n price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U.-S. A. "~ Before writing to us, pleaseconsult notice on Inside back cover. ., Review t:or Rel~gio.us Volume V January--December, 1946 PubliShed at THE COLLEGE PRESS Topeka. Kansas Edited by TH'E JESUIT FATHERS SAINT MARY'S'COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas PiUS X and°Catholic Joseph V£ Sommers, S.J. [INTRODUCTORY NOTE: This article° may lead to a misconception unless it is ¢lea~ly understood from the beginning that Catholic Action as here explained is lim~ ited~to the'thought of Pius_X. He was pope, from 1903 to 1914. Since that time Pius XI an~d. Pi~ul XII have further refined the,notion of Catholic Action. Their - writi'~gs and speeches so far ove'rshadow their predecessor's that.~in many articles . o and books reviewin~ the papal directives. Plus X receives, only passing ieference. His relative position might be made.clearer from this comparison. If all the di~ec, .tires on Catholic Action that have come from the Holy See since "the time of~ L, ed XIII were put into one volume, they would roughly equal a 670 page book. Of these Leo XIII would get the first ten pages:~Pius X the next sixty; 500 page~ would go to Pius XL and the remaining pages to out'present Holy Father. Yet' Pi-us X's thought is of historical importance: He gave Catholic Action its~ first great impetus. Although later popes have written more voluminously, yet~th, ey, repeat much that P~us X already sa~d. It'wdl be ~nterestmg. therefore, to inve.stigate. how the recent pap~al demands for an organized Catholic lay apostolate got started.] , .~ |oSEPH Sarto was Bishop o~ Manti~a wiaen in January~.~. ~,.~,~ 1890, l"ie heard the trumpet call for the~lay apostolate. Pope Leo XlII bad just issued his encyclical on'the .~bYef .Duffes of Christi'a~s as Citizeris. Listed amon~g;the ~obligations of every Catholic layman was an active'share in ~'.defendingand extending the Church (A, 115-8).~ Esp_e-. -,cial'ly in thes~ our-~ays, Leo wrote, the laity must openly profess ~the Catholic doctrines and teach them to the utmost 6f their' ability. They should take upon themselves, .indeed-the office of the pastor, but: the task'of communi-0. ~ating. to others what they. have received, becoming as it were living echoes of their teachers in the faith" (A, 1 16): The faithful, however, would.hot satisfy these du, ti._e~, as it is .fitting they should, were they ~to enter the fight single'-' handed. They must work" together as frained sol~tierd - deplbydd fof battle. In defence and in conquest, they inust ~" ~The present arttcle ~s a condensatton of,'a chapter tn a symposium on the life :ind i ~6rk Of Plus X which Will .be published in book form by St. 'Anthony:s Guild, ~'Tfie books and documdnts cited in the article are listed at the end. References in the text ~ill b~ merely by means of a letter °and number. The letter refers to the book; the fiumber to the,page. UO~EPH V. Sb~MERS " ~- ~ Reoiew for RetigioaF fight.' under the direction of th~ pope and ~he bishOps. Thu~ did'Leo XlII outline' the duty of the lay~aposto- "late: Almost immediately Bishop _Sart% re-e~hbed th~:. 't.~aching of his suprercie pontiff .in a speech on "Obedi~nc.e to the Pope inoCatholic Action." Izater, as-Cardinal Patri-" 7arch~of .Venice, he urged obedience to the popd- as an important motive for engJaging°ir~ this apostolate: "Cater ollc Action has.been c.ommanded by the Pope., who has sig-~ -nified hisown mind in.so many ways, and t~hat is ~nough -for us to be sure that it is the ~ill of God also" (B, 109). ~ Picking a.Name [or the Lay Apostolate Although Pius X did not co~n the title "Ca~tholic A'c-tion,;' yet be ,is certainly the fiist pope to make frequent~ ~ use of this term to dtisigfiate the laity's. ~lhare in the apostolic mission of the Church. Even before he had been elected," ti~ used. th~ eklSression. As Patriarch of Venice, fo.r exgmple, he eml~hasized that "Catholic Action is pro'per to the laity and'n6t to the clergy. " .-Catholic Action is prop- :er!y-lay in character." (B, 108. ) When pope he offi, ciall~i ~, c~ristened this apostolate with a-"distinctive, and.surely-a_ very nobld name: Catholic Action" (A, 192), All in~all,- Piu~ used the term's~veral dozen ti~es: in letters to the - Catholics of Italy, tb. the Hierarchy_of France, to .thd Arch!: ~. bishop of Quebec, and iff writing to the'whole Catholic~ World: Since his pontificate, "Catholic-Acti~ri" has~ remaihed a t~chn~cal term both in papal documents andi~ " " other W.ritings that adhere accurately to-the terminology: of~- .,the popes in this matter.Today "Catl~olic Action"~ erly Si~hifies-both the rnand[~te~d organizations"and~ the ~apostolic activit~r of those Catholic laymen who officially participate i~n the apostolic mission of the hierarchy. . Doc6ments on Catholic Action - : " ¯ Pias X did more than give the- l~y apostolate a Janua(g, 19~6 PlUS X AND CATHOLIC ACTION name. He wrote so, me fifteen thousand words clearly explaining Catholic Action and insistihg that it be accu-rately pu[ into practice. While six main, documents contain his.teaching, yet three of these deserve special men~ tion. The first is a speech.deli.vered in the 1890's (B, .107- 10) ; the second is a sizable part of his first papal encyclical. E su'premi apostolatus (of. C) ; the third, and most impor-tant, is his apostolic letter, II fermo proposi}o (The_ Firm Resolution; c~." D.) In fact, II fermo proposito, published justforty years ago, v~as for its time the 16ngest andmost dethiled 6f all papal pr0n0uncemen.ts on Catholic A~tion. It runs throUgh-tWenty-seven pages of the Acta Sanctad 8edis (The Acts-of the Holy See-) and is one of the rela- (ively few documents fotind there in tw~ languages: the original Italiafi and a Latin translation. A note prefixed to the Latin version gives the reason: although addressed to the Catholics of Italy, its very important teachin~g can be exceedingly profitable to Catholics everywhere (D, 741). The immediate effect of this letter upon the people of Italy was observed by the Roman correspondent-of The Tablet. Writing pack to London just two weeks after it ¯ was.released to thepublic he reports: "Not since the Ency.c-lical Return Novarum, published about fourteen years ago, has a Papal document excited such deep and ~eneral inter-est all through Italy as Pius X's last pronouncement on the Catholic movement" (cf. E). ° The far-reaching result 6f II fermo propos(to can be seen in Pius XI's voluminous writing on his fav6rite subject, where many of its phrases and nearly every one of its ~nain ideas are repeated (cf. F). Let us, therefore, r~view Pius X's teaching on Catholic Action b~rattempting, in some sort of logical order, a simple summary of what he said and firrote. We shall present his six main documents in 6he composite picture. In doing so we shall give.his teaching, as far as possible, in his own 5 JOSEPH V. SOMME.RS ReOieto [or Religious words. This will l~elp assure his views being seen in their own light, And for those familiar with the more recent directives of°Pius XI and Pius XIII it will be,convincing evidefice that many of their ideas have been taken from the words of their zealous predecessor. A Problem and an Answer Let us begin, then, where Plus began, with the pr0b-lem: The issue--as he saw it---concerned the salvation of souls, wh~ lived in a world that was in large part detached from the Church and heedless of the laws of God. Secu-larism was.the chief foe that fought against Plus in Man-tun, Venice, and Rome. In his first official letter as Patri: arch ofVenice, Cardinal Sart0 descril~ed the situation thus:. God is driven out of politics by this theory of the separation of Church and state. He is driven . . . from the laws by a morality which is guided by' the senses alone; from the schools.by the aboli-tion of religious instruction~; from Christian marriage; now deprived of'the grace of the sacrament . "q~re.must fight this great error of modern times, ~the enthronement of:man in the place of-God. (G,~ 46.7.) - Again in his'first encyclical he recalled the problem: "that enormous and detestable wickedness, so characteristic of. ou~ time.--the substitution, of man fbr God" (C, 8). This evil was directly opposed to his own firm resolve to restore all.things in Chris(. While still Cardinal he stated plainly th~ connection between secularism and the lay apostolate, between the problem and the solution: Catholic ACtion [he said] is properly lay in character for another reason . At one time the rights of Jesus Christ, of the Chflrch and "of the Pope entered into th.e, legis!ation of all ChriStian states . Now it is no longer so. The Church, the Pope, are no longer recog-nised as such and no longgr form part of the social organism;-they . are relegated to the sphere of.common rights; nay, they.ar~ even con~ sidered as enemies . Since these things are so; who is it that must danuar~l, 1946 PlUS X AND (~ATHOLICoACTION "~ stir himself to defend the violated rights'of . . . tl~e P6pe, lbe Church and the Bishops? In otl~er times it was the P01~es and the Bishops who intervenedin defence Of "their children. ; today it mustibe, the children wh6 will rise up in defence of their father, the laity .in ' defence of the Hierarchy: . . . (B, 108.) " ' In his first encyclical he outlined the means necessary to restore all things in christ. Urging ~:he bishops first to have as their.chief care the formation of their seminarians and priests to holiness and truth, Plus then exhorted them to instruct their people in the faith and to attract ~inful hearts "tO Christ by conspicuous charity. Finally, as -though reaching a climax; the new Pope pleadedfor the lay apostolate. He expanded this call till it filled one-eighth of his whole encyclical. He speaks to the.bishops of the world: ~. In this arduous task of the restoration of thi~ huma~ race in Christ neitl~er you nor your clergy should exclude all assistance, We know that God-recommended every:o~ne to have a care for his neighbor (Eccli. 17 : 12). For it is not priests alone, but all the faithful with-out exception, who must concern themselves with the intei'ests of God and souls not,'0f course, acco~rding to their own views; but always under the direction and orders of the bishops. ". (C, 12-3. Italics are ins~erted.) ' Here then is the world problem and a papal solutionl .In [t~ modern organized form Catholic Action has been developed as an integral part of the Church's answer to the " ~chief modern i~roblem. If God's laws arein great part dis-placed from politics, from public education, from the civil " marriage contract and the average home,, from big business and smart entertainment, then °the Church in her. efforts to restore all things in Christ will make special use of laymen. Who else ar~ better situated to re-Christianize labor and business, family life and entertainment? It is precisely the " [aity's place in the world that puts them-in a strategic posi-tibn to influence the reconstruction of these phases of life JOSEPH V. SOMMERS Reoiew 1o~ Religibus according: to the Christian pattern. Hence. the Pope's insistence ihat the laity collabor.ate in the ¯work for, God and souls. , ' - Explaining the Answer Already we have seen in broad.outline what Plus X .mteaecahnisn gb ym Coraet h loglsiecl yA.'c Wtiohnat. aIct croermdianign tso thoi mex ias mthien aei mhis ¯ of .Catholic Action? W~at are the methods it should employ?- What relation has Catholic. Action to the pope, the bishops, and priests? What are the effects to be looked fort Finally, what is the importance of Catholic Action in the eyes of Pius X? These are the main qi~estk;ns to be considered. 'Others of a secondary natu.re will be treated more briefly. ", In explaining the lay apostolat~ Plus, first and last, -~alled for ACTION. These are perhaps his str0nges.t words: - Catholic Action will not please certain timid souls, who thougl~ go~d living, are so attached to their habitual quiet ahd so afraid of every innovation that they believe that it is quite sufficient to pray, because God knows b~st how to defend the faith, humiliate His ene-mies, and make the Church triumphant. But these good people, whom I would call optimists, will' wait in vain for society to re-Christianize itself simply by tthe.prayers 6f the°good. Prayer is absolutely necessary because in the ordinary economy of salvation God does not concede graces "except to him who prays, but India and Japan would never have been converted by.tlSe prayers alone of Xa~rier: the.Apostles would never have conquered the world, if the~ .had not done the work of heroes and martyrs. It is necessary; there-gore, to join pr~iyer with hction,~' : There are others [he continues] who in order to justify .their inertia, give the worid up for lost, since~ they see in it.so many evil~!. ¯ Tl"ies~ people, whom I would call pessimists," say that it is so much wasted time to talk of Committees, of Circles, of SocietieS,~that they . will never :accomplish anything. It is sufficient' to remin~ these wearied and dispirit.ed souls that this kind of work of Catholic Action: danuarg,-1946 PIUS X AND" ~(THOLIC~ AC:'TION hag bee~ commanded by the Pope . (B, 1"09.) ¯ Up to the prese.nt, [he remarks] we have been like rabbits, too frightened" of everything and everyone to institute the Parochial Committee [local unit of Catholic Action], in order not to give offence. To whom could the Committee give offence? .To two cl;isses of people only: to the bad, and if we gave way. to them .we would. have ~0'stop all good wo.rks; and to those good people who shrink f~0m innovations. We must tell these last clearly and distinctly that these i~{novations~are both beautiful and good; that as the ba~d uhite; so also must the good: that if they are innovations they ar~ desired by the Vicar ofJesus Christ, and that he wh~o does not obey th~ Pope does not obey God.(B, 110.) Good Example a Prerequisite for LayApQstles- But as Words, and energetic hction [the Pope adds elsewhere] are' of no avail unless . . . accompan~i, ed . byexample, the necessary characteristic which should shine~ forth intall the members of e.very Catholic association is that of openly manifesting their faith by the holiness of ~their lives . . . and by ~he exact observance o'f the laws Of G0d~and 6f the Church. (H, 10.) Ifthe soul is not thus regulated [Pius observes] it will be diffi- Cult to stir others °to go6d, and, strength will fail for bearing perse-veriiagly th~ weariness Which every apost61ate brings with it: the calumnies of efiemies, the'coldness and want of he!p from men good in themselves, and sometimes the jealousy of~friends and fellow-- workers-~--excusable, doubtless, on account of the weakness 6f human nat.ure, but very harmful, and a cause of discord, offence, and quar-rels. (A,'193.) Good example, "therefore, and the solid virtue under-lying it are necessary if Catholik Action is to attain its end. With this in miffd the Holy Father remarks: .To carry it out rightly; we.mus~ have divine grace, and~the apostle receives none if he is not united to Christ. Only when we have formed Jesus Christ within.ourselves shall we more easily~ be able, to ,g!ve Him back ~o the family and to society. (A, 193.) The Aims o~ Catholic Action , ~ .~ C:~tholic A~tion is a~lay apostolate to restore allthings in Christ. In It [ermo proposito Plus adds further: 9 Reuiewfor RHigiou~ It is plainly necess.ary that every one take pa.rt i'n a work so impor-tant, not only,for the sanctification of his 'own soul,' but also i'n order ~o spread and more fully extend the Kingdom of God in individuals, in families and in society---each one working according to his own strength for his neighbor's good . (A, 189-90.) Ou~ pre.d.ecessor Leo XIII . pointed out . . . in the famous encyclical Return Novarum and in later documents the object, to which Catholic Actign should be specially devoted, namely, the prac-tical solution of the social question according to Christian principles. (A, 194-5.) Here the italics are in the text---one of the few instances in his apostolic letter on Catholic Action where Plus X thus undersdored his own words. He wished this last sentence to point like a spotlight at what he Considered the most impo.rtant work for the organ.ized lay apostolate of his day. He goes on to e~plain-his point: You see well what support is given to the Church by those chosen bands of Catholics whose aim is to unite all their forces in order to c6mbat anti-Christian civilization by every just and lawful means . : to reinstate Jesus Christ in the family, the school, and society: to re-establish the principle that human authority, represents that of God; to take intimately to heart the interests of the .people, especially those of the working and agricultural classes, not only by the inculcation of r.el!gion . but also by striving . . . to soothe theii sufferings, and by wise measures to improve their economic con-dition: to endeavour, consequently, to make public laws conf0rmhble to justice, to amend or suppress those' which are not so: finally, with a true Catholic spirit," to defend and support .the rights of God in everything, and the no less sacred rights of the Church. All'these works, of which Catholi~ laymen are the principal sup-po~. ters and promoters . . . constitute what is generally known by a distinctive, and surely a very noble name: Catholic Action . °(A, 191-2.) Re-Christianized in its civic, social, and ~conomic life, Civilization will then pr6vide a wholesome environment for those phases of individual and group life tl"iat are spe~ cifically and direcdy religious andmoral. It was the wis- 10 danuarg, 1946 PIUS X AND CATHOEIC ACTION - dom of Plus X to realize~that to Christianize individuals, a quick and sure way is to Christianize their surroundin'gs which unremittingly exert an influence for good or evil¯ For it is the environment which largely forms or deforms the individual, Christianizes or de-Christianizes him. On ~his account Pius repeatedly insiste~l that the Catholic laity help to establish and extend the Kifigdom of Christ not 8nly in individuals but also in families and in ,society. The Means to This Christian Restoration ;'The diffusion of revealed truth, the exercise of Chris-tian. virtue, and the spiritual and corporal works of mercy" (A, 190) are thegeneral means recommended to effect this restoration. 'Especially in his encyclical, Acerbo Nimis (On the Teaching of Christian Doctrine; I, 623), did Plus X insist upon the diffusion of revealed truth as a neces-sary means to restore men's minds and actions to Christ. Here too, he stressed the.need of the laity sharing in the edu-catibnal work of the hierarchy by his command that the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine be established in everv parish.in the world. Pihs likewise u.rged Christian charity. But the charity be wished to see exercised was not conniving and short-sighted tolerance. ¯ . . The first duty of charity [he says] does not lie in the toleration of erroneous convictions, however sincere they may bd~ nor in theo- - retical ok practical indifference for "the errors or vices in which we s~e our fellow-men plungdd, but in zeal for their inkellectual and moral improvement as well as for their material well-being. (d, 404.) Catholic Action as an organization is not a political party; .it has npthing to do with party politics. But its members as individual Catholics, Plus pointed, ou't, must use their civic right to vote and to hold office in order to pro-mote justice and truth. This section of I1 [ermo propgsito had particular appl.ication to the political situation in Italy JOSEPI~I V. SOMMERS ~ " ¯ "Review/:or Religious durir~g the ~first decade of this century. ~ Tile.wish of. the ~ Pope, howevei, extends to allCatholic citizens and direct~ them to use,, wherever possible, the democratic processes of government to bifild civil society according to the Christian .blueprint. . Other :means recommended by Pius, becau~e of their usefulness to bring about coope.ration and to arouse.enthu-siasm, were regional, and national congresses of 'the Cath-olic lay movements. These are his own.words: " ¯ . . In order to renew and increase in all Catholic undertakings the necessary enthusiasm, to give to.their "promoters and n~mbers an o~portunity ~o'f ~eeing and becoming atquainted with each other,.to draw ever more closely the bonds.of brotherly love, to enkindle in one another a more.~burning zeal for e~cient action, ,a.nd to provide, for the better establishmefit and,sp'.rea.d of the same works, a wonde~ful help .will be found in the meeting from time to time, according.to the Jules already; given by the Holy See, of general or local Con-gresses of. Catholics; and they ought to be a soler~n manifestati6n of Catholic faith, and a common festival of harm6ny and peace. (A, 198.) ~ : Relation of Catholic Action to the Clergg "It remains for us to treat of another point of the highest importance, namely the relation. which all the w6rks of Catholic Action should, bear to ecclesiastical authority" (A, 198). Those works immediately con-nec, ted' with '.the spiritual .and pastoral ministry of the Church,, having a religious a~m intended directly for the good of souls, should submit in every smallest particular to the authority of th~ bishops. But other works of Cath- 61ic Action de.signed .chiefly to restore and promote in iZhrist true Christian civilization have greater freedom, although the.y too are dependent on the advice and direction of ecclesiastical authority, inasmuch as they must conform to the principles of Christian faith and morality, . Although Catholic Action is proper to the laity and danuarg, 1946 PlUS X AND C/~THOLIC ACTION not tO the clergy, yet priests have the duty of guiding and encouraging its de.velopment. The Pope's ideals are rather high. He advised the French. bishops to choose from among their priests . ~. men who are active and level-headed, possessing the degrees of doct6r ¯ in philosophy and theology, and a thorough knowledge of the history of-ancient and modern civilization, and apply them to the less ele-. vated and more practical study of social science, in order that at.the "right time they may be put at the head of your Catholic Action. (d, 407). To the Italian bishops, he says: - . The co-.operation of the clergy in the works of Catholic .Act.i0n has a deeply religious end: it will never become a hindrance, but will be a help to their spiritual ministry by enlarging its sphere and mul-tii~ lying its fruits. ('A, 200). Results o[ Catholic Action; Its imp'ortance The good example given by a great army of.soldiers of Christ will be of mu~ch greater avail in attracting and per-. suading men than words and learned dissertations. In Our First Encyclical to the Bishops of the World, in which We echo all that Our glorious Predecessors had laid ~town c~ncerning the Catholic-Action df the laity, We d~clared that this action was. deserving of'the highest praise, and was indeed necess;iry in tile rpres-. ent condition of the Church and of society (H; 3). Speaking t~ the whole Catholic world in his encyclical on - St. Charles Borromeo, the Pope again praised that "Cath-olic Action which We have frequently recommended': as. most efficacious for the well-being of civil society (K, 246). Witl~ these public statements as a backdrop we can bet~ ter appraise.an incident narrated by Abb~ Chautard in The Soul of the Apostolate. Happening to be one day'amidst a group of Cardinals, the Holy Father sai'~ to them :" "What is the thing most necessary at the present, time to save society ?~' "Buikl Catholic schools," said one. 13 JOSEPH V. SOMMERS "Review,,for Religious "No." "Multiply churches," replied another. "No aga~." "~ncrease the recruiting of the clergy," said a third. ~ "No, no," replied the Pope; "what is most necessary at the pres-ent time, is to have in each parish a .qroup of fat.linen at the same time virtuous, well=instructed, determined and reallg apostolic.'" (L, 161- Not All Lay Organizations Are Catholic Action " After having gi~ren a lengthy explanation of the fu!l, meaning of C~itholic Action, Plus concludes, "such are the 'characteristics, aims, and conditions of Catholic0Action~" ¯ And he adds: This does not exclude the favoring and promotion of other works bf diverse.kinds and varied organizations, all equally aiming at this or that particular good of society and of the people, and at the revival of Christian civilization under various aspects. (A, 197~ The special and particular aim of these other organizations is what first distinguishes them from Catholic Action, the aim of Which is co~bxtensive with ~hat of th~ Church, The Pope goes on to add two further pbi~ts of differbncel' '.'The~e works arise, for the most part from the zeal of individuals; they are spread throughout separate dioceses and are "sometimes united in more extended federations" (A, 198), C~tholic Action, on the other hand, arises out of obedience to the pdp~,; in design it is world-wide. -. Were his directions being followed? In Italy, Catholic Action had developed-into four national organizations, each independent of the others. In Belgium the Catholic Association for Belgian Youth was coming into being, while in France a Similar organization was fairly well established. Even the Far East felt the influence of Plus X's apostolic i~ff0rt. In 1912 the Union of Chines~ Catholic Action had ,. been begui~. ' " 14 danuaq¢, 1946 PlUS X ANDCATHOLIC ACTION Cathoiic.Action l~s a C-bristian Tradition Pius. X's teaching on Catholic Action is but one chapter in the.long history~of the.lay apostolate. For~.Cath01ic Action is not an innovation of our day.Catholic Action is "more than an answer to a modern.problem; it is the°return to a Christian tradition. It~wa~ the practice of many of the faithful at~the time ofSt. Paul. It was re¢ommende.dby St. Augustine, St. Thomas !~quinas, and the Fathers of the Vatican Council. ¯ .In Pius X's.own words:: "It has always come to thi~ aid-of the Church; and the Chu~ch.:has always -welcomed~ and -blessed it, although it has acted, dn: various ways in accordance v,)ith the age" :(A, 19 2 ). " ":" _.~ Pius X in resgoring this . Christiai~ tradition gav~ detailed instructions on the lay apostolate that' far exceeded the known Writings of .any previous pope, In ~Snclusion:, however, it.wou!d be wall to note that .~he CatholicACt~ofi which Pius X had so carefully nu}tured was to develop even~ mbre. during the".p0ntificate of Pius XI. For itl was left to.this latter Pontiff to define~moreexactlY the-many details which now Characterize! official Catholic ~Action .(~cf. M). Yet despite these new qualifications, at.least-two-thirds of all his teaching can be found substantiall.y in the writing of Pius X. These_then are Pius X's contributions. He marked the way:-by restricting the term Catholic Action ~o the laity's share in the apostolic mission of the hierarchy; by setting the tinivershl aim for Catholic Action to establish, defend, and fully extend the Kingdom of Christ in. indi-viduals, in families, and in the whole, of society; by stressing its spedal necessity in our times; by giving it pre-eminence among the means recommended for the recon-struction of the social order according to a Christian pat-tern: by basing the obligation of Catholic Action on mem-bership in the Mystical Body, on the-law of charity, and. :~IoSEPH V. SOMMER~ -. obedience, to the pope; by outlining its subordination tO the direction of the hierarchy; and by., recalling t~) priests their obligation to gui~le and encourage this apostolic organiza-tion among the laity~ REFERENCES (A) The Pope and the People. Select letters and addresses on socia.I questions Popes Leo XIII, Pius X, Benedict XV, and Plus XI. The Catholic Truth Society~ London~ 1943¯ (B) Rest.oring All Things, by ,John Fitzsimons .and Paul McGuire. Sheed,and Ward, New york, 1938. Quotations are used here with the per.mission of the publishers. (.C) The Catholic Mind, I: "Encyclical Letter of.Our Hoiy Father Pius~X." (For the original text see Acta Sanctae Sedis, XXXVI, 129,139.) .(D) "'ll fermo proposito,'" in Acta Sanctae Sedis, XXXVII, 741-767. (See also The Pope and The People, 189-201, for an English translation of most of this apostolic letter.) .(E) The Tablet, CVI, 17~ "Correspondence: Rome." (F) A Manu.al oi Catholic Action, by Luigi Civardi. Translated by C. C. Mar-tindale, S.J. Sheed and Ward, New York, 1943. (See pages 12-45 .for a cursory-view of Pius X's in.fluence on the later development of Catholic Ac-tion.) ~(G)" Life of ~itts'X, by F. A. Forbes. Kenedy, New Y~rk, 1918. (Quotation i~ used here with the permission of the publishers.) (I'I) The Catbollc Mind, II, 3-10: "Popular Catholic Action.". (See also Acta Sanctae Sedis, XXXVII~ 339~345.) (I) "'Acecbo Nimis'" in the Acta 8anctae Sediso XXXVII. (d) .The Tablet, CXVI, 402-7: "The Pope and 'Le Sillon.' "''(See also Acta Apostolicae Sedis, II, 607.-33.)- (K) The Catholic. Mind, VIII: Encyclical.on St. Charles Borromeo. (L) "The Soul of the Apostolate., by~ J. B. Chautard. Translated by 3. A. Mo~ ran, S.M. The Mission Press, Techny, I11., 1945. (The quotation is used here with the permission of the Abbey of Gethsemani.) (M) What Does'the Pope Say About Catholic Action? Pellegri~i, Sydney,' Aus-tralia, 1937. See also Fundamental Pci~ciples of Catholic ACtion, by Fer-na~ nd Lelotte, S.2. Translated by ,J. P. Kelly. Australian National Sect. of Catholic Action, Melbourne. (This lafter book is soon to be published by The Ap0stolate Press, South Bend, Ind.)' 16 Splri :ual Readings rom :he Council Tren!:--II!* Augustine Klaas, S.J. Sacrament of Penance: Necessitg~ and Institution ~F IN ALL thos~ regenerated such gratitude were given toGod that they constantly safeguarded the justice received in baptism by His bounty,.: and grace, there would have been no need for another sacrament beiides that of baptism to be instituted for the remission of sins. But since God, rich in merc~l (117), knoweth our frame (118). He has a remedy of life even to those v~ho may after baptism have delive'red themselves up to the s~rvitude of sin and the power of the devil, namely, the sacrament of penance, by which the benefit of Christ's death is applied to those who have fallen after b.aptism. Penance was indeed, necessary.at all times for all nien who had stained themselves by mortal sin, even for those who desired to be cleansed by" the sacrament of baptism, in order to obtain grace and justice; so that their wickedness being renounced and amended, they might with a hatred of.sin and a Sincere sorrow of heart detest so great an offense against God. Wherefore the Prophet says: Be converted and do penance for all gout "iniquities, and iniquity shall not be gout ruin. (.119) The Lord also said: Except you do penance, you shall all likewise perish (120); and Peter the Prince of the Apostles, recom-mending penance to sinners about to receive baptism, said: Do pen- ¯ ance and be baptized every one of you. (121) Moreover, neither before the coming of Christ was penan.ce a sacrament nor is it such since His coming to an~rone before baptism. But the Lord then espe-cially instituted the sacrament of penafice when, after being risen from the dead, He breathed upon His disciples, and said: Receive ge the ']-Ioly Ghost, whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them, and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained. (122) The con-sensu~ of all the Fathers has always acknowledged that by this,action so sublime and words so clear the power of forgiving and retaining 117) Ephesians 2:4 119) E~echiel 18:30 121) Acts2:38. 118) Psalms 102:14 120) Luke 13:5 122) John 20.:22 f *Selected from H. J. Schroe_der, O.P., Canons and Decrees of the Council of T~ent, (St. Louis, Herder, 1.94 I). 17 AUGUSTINE KLAAS sins was gi-v.en to the Apostles and their lawful successors for recon-ciling the faithful who have fallen after baptism, and the Catholic Church with goo.d reason repudiated and condemned as heretics the Novi~tians, who of old stubbornly denied that power of forgiving. (123) Penance Differs from Baptism ¯ Besides, it is clear: that this sacrament is in many respects different from baptism, For apar~ from the fact that in matter and form, which constitute the essence of a. sacrament, it differs very widely, it is beyond question that the minister of baptism need not be a judge, since the Church exercises judgment on no on~ who has not entered it through the gate of baptism. For what have I'to do, says St. Paul, to judge them that are without? (124) It is o~herwise with regard to those who are of th~ household of the faith, whom Christ the Lord has once by the laver of,baptism made members of His own body. (125). For these, if they should.afterward have defiled themselves by some crime, He wished not to have cleansed by the repetition of bap-tism, since that is in no manner lawful in" the Catholic Church, but to be placed as culprits before-this tribunal that by the sentence of the priests they may be absolved, not only once but as oft}n a~s, r~pentant of the sins'committed, they should turn themselves thereto. More-over, the.fruit of baptism is one thing, that c~fpenance another~ For By baptism we put on Christ ~126) and are made in Him an entirely new creatu're, receiving a full and complete remission of all sins; to which newness and integrity, however, we aie by no means able to arrive by the sacrament of penance without many tears~and labors on our part, divine justice demanding this, so that penance has rightly .been called by the Holy Fathers a laborious kind of baptism. This sacr~iment of penance is for those who have fallen after baptism neces-sary for salvation, as baptism is for those who have not yet been regenerated. Forms and Fruits of the" Sacrament The holy council teaches further,more, that the form of the sacra-ment of penance, in which its efficacy chiefl.y consists, are those words of'the minister: I absolve thee, etc., to which are indeed laudably added certain prayers according to the custom of holy Church, which, 123) Eusebius, Hist. Eccl., VI, c. 43 124)"See I Corinthians 5:12 125) I Corinthians i2:13 126) Galatians 3:27 JanuaGI, 1946 READINGS FROMTRENT however, do not ~)y any means belong to the essence of the form nor are they necessary for the administration of the sacrament.But th~ acts of the penitent himself, namely, contrition, confession and satis-faction, constitute the matter of this sacrament, which acts, inasmuch as. they are by God's institution required in the pe.nitent for the integrity o'f the sacrament and-for the full and complete remission of sins, are for this reason called the parts of penance.~ B~ut that Which is signified and produced by this sacrament is, so far as its force and efficacy are concerned, reconciliation with God, which sometimes,.in persons who are pious andwho receive this ~acrament with devotion, is wont to be followed by peace and serenity of conscience with an exceedingly great consolation of spirit. ' Contrition Contrition, which holds the first place ~mong the aforesaid' acts of the penitent, is a sorrow of mind and a detestation for sin com-mitted with the purpose of not sinning in the future. This feeling of contrition was at all times necessary for obtaining the forgiveness of sins and thus indeed it prepares one who has failen after baptism'for the remission of sins, if it is united .with" confidence in the divine mercy and with the desire to perform the other things that are reqtiired to receive this sacrament in the proper manner. The holy council declares therefore, that-this contrition implies not only an abstention from sin and the res61ution and beginning of a new life, but also a hatred of the old, ac~:ording to the statement: Cast away from yo.u all your transgressions by which you have transgressed, and make to yourselves a new heart and a new spirit. (127) And certainly l~e who has pondered those lamentatiohs of the saints: To ~thee only have I sinned, and have done evil before thee (128) ; I have labored.in my groanfngs,'everg night I will washmg bed (129); I will recount to thee all rny years in the bitterness of my soul (I 30), and others of this kind, will easily understand that they issued from an overwhelming hatred of their past life and from a profound detestation of sins., The council teaches furthermore, that though it happens sometimes that this contrition is perfect through charity and reconciles man to God before this sacrament is actually, received, this recon.ciliation, nevertheless, is not to be ascribed to the contrition 127) Ezechiel 18:31 128) Psalms 50:6. 13:0) lsaias 38:15 129) Psalms 6:7 19 AUGUSTINE KLAA8 Revie~v [or Religious itself, without a desire of the sacrament, which desire is included in it. As to imperfect contrition, which is called attrition, since it com-monly arises either from the consideration of the heinousness of sin or from tile fear of, hell and of punishment, the council declares that if it renounces the desire tO sinand hopes for pardon, i~ not only does not make one a hypocrite and a greater sinner, but is even a gift of God and an impulse of the Holy Ghost, not indeed as already , dwelling ~n the p.enitent, but only moving him, with which assistance the_peditent prepares a way for himself unto justice. And though with.out the sacrament of penance it cannot per se lead the sinner to justification, it does, howev.er, dispose ~im to obtain the grace of God in the sacrament of penance. For, struck salutarily by .this fear, the Nini¢ites, moved by the dreadful preaching of Jonas,-did penance and o" obtained mercy fro~m the Lord. (131) F~lsely therefore do some accuse Catholic writers,, as if they maintain that the sacrament .of penance confers grace without any pious exertion on the part of those receiving it, something that the Church of God has never taught br ever accepted. Falsely also do their assert that contrition is extorted and forced, and notfree and voluntary. Confession From the institution of the sacrament of penance as already explained, the universal Church has always understood that the complete, confession of sins was also instituted by the Lord and is divine law 'necessary for all who have, fallen after baptism (132): because our Lord Jesus Christ, when about to ascend from earth to heaven, left behind Him'priests, His own vicars (133), as rulers and judges, to whom all the mortal sins into which the faithful of Christ may have fallen should be brought in order that ~hey may, in virtue "of the power of the keys, pronounce the sentence of remission or retention of sins. For it is evident that priests could not have cised this judgment without.a knowledge of the matter, nor could they have observed justice in imposing, penalties, had the faithful declared their sins in general only and not specifically and one .by one. From whi.ch it is clear that all mortal sins of which they have kno.wl-e. dge after a diligent self-examinatiom must be enumerated by .the penitents in confession, even though they are most secret and have 131) Jonas 3:5; Mat-thew 12":41 : Luke l 1:32 132) Luke 5:14; 17:14; Idohnl:9 133) Matthew 16:19: John 20:23 Januar~l, 1946 READINGS FROM TRENT been cohamitted 0nly.against the last two precepts of the Deca-logue (i34); which sins sometimes injur~ the soul more grievously arid are more dangerous than those.that are committed openly. Venial sins, on the other band, by which we are not excluded from the grace of God and into which we fall more frequently, though the~ may be rightly and profitably and without any presumption declared in con-fission, as the practice of pious people evinces, may, nevertheless, be omitted without guilt and can be. expiated by many other remedies. But since all mortal sins, even those of thought, mak~ men children ot: wrath ('135) and enemies of God, it is necessary t6 seek pardon of all of them from God by an open and humble confession. While. therefore the faithful of Christ strive to confess all sins that come to their memory, they no doubt lay all of them before the divine mercy for forgiveness; while those'v~ho do otherwise and knowingly con-ceal certain ones, lay nothing before the divine goodness to be for-given through the priest; for if one sick be ashamed to make known his wound to the physician, the .latter does not remedy what he does not know. It is evident furthermore, that.thbse circumstances that change the species of the sin 5re also to be explained in-confession, for without }hem the sins themselves are neither integrally set forth by the p~nitent nor are they known to the judges, and it would be imtSossible for tfiem to estimate rightly the grievousness o~'the crimes. and to impose the "punishment due to the penitents on account of them. Hence it is unreasonable to teach that these circumstances have been devised by idle men, or that one circumstance only is to be con-fessed, namely, to have sinned against another. It is also malicious to say that ,confession, commanded to be made in this manner, is impos-sible, or to call it a torture of consciences: for it is known that in the Church nothing else is required of penitents than that each one, after he has diligently examined himself' and searched all the folds and corners of his conscience, confess those sins by which he remem-bers to have mo~tally offended his Lord and God; while,the other sins of which he has after diligent thought no recbllection, are unde~- stood to bein a general way included in the same confession; for which sins we confidently say with the Prophet: From rag secret sins cleanse me, 0 Lord. (136) But the difficulty of such a confession and the shame of disclosing the sins might indeed appear a burden-some matter, if it were not lightened by so many and so great advan- 134) Deuter_onomy 5:21 135) Ephesians 2:3 136) Psalms 18:13 AUGUSTINE KEAAS Review for Religious rages and consolations, 'which are most certainly bestowed by abso-lution upon all who approach this sacrament worthily. Moreover, as regards the manner of confessing secretly to a priest alone, although Christ has not forbidden that one may in expiation for his crimes and for his own humiliation, for an example to others as well ~ts for the edification of the Church thus scandalized, confess his offenses pub-licly, yet this is not commanded by divine.precept; nor would it be very prudent to enjoin by human law that offenses, especially ~ecret ones, should be divulged by a public confession. Wherefore, sifice secret sacramental confession, which holy Church has used from the beginning and still uses, has always been recommended by the.most holy and ancient Fathers with great and unanimous agreement, the empty calumny of those who do not fear to teach that it is foreign to the divine command, is of "human origin and owes its existence to the Fathers assembled in the Lateran Council, is convincingly disproved. For the Church did not through the~Lateran: Council decree that the faithful "of Christ should confess a thing that she recognized as of divine law and necessary, but that the precept of confession should be complied with by each and all at least once a year when they have attained the age of discretion. Hence the salutary custom of con- .re[sing during that sacred and most acceptable period of Lent is now observed in the whole Church to the great benefit of the souls of the faithful, which custom this holy council completely indorses and sanctions as pious and worthy of retention. Satisfaction Finally, in regard to satisfaction, which of all the parts of pen-ance, just as it is that which has at all times been recommended to the Christian people by our Fathers, so" it is the one which chiefly in our age is under the high-sounding pretext of piety assailed by those who ~ave an appearance, of piety, but have denied the power thereof (137), ~he holy council ~leclares that is absolutely false and contrary to the'word of God, that the guilt is never remitted by the Lord' without the entire punishment being remitteff also. For clear and outstanding ex.amples.are found in the "sacred writings (138), by which, besides divine tradition, this error is refuted in the plainest manner. Indeed the nature of divine justice seems to demand that 137) See II Timothy 138) Genesis 3:16 f; 20:11 f; II Kings 3:5 Numbers 12:14 f; 12:13 f 22 January, 1946 READINGS FROM TREN~T those who throhgh ignorance have sinned before baptism 1~ received into grace in one manner, and in another those who, after having been liberated from the servitude of sin. and of the devil, and after having received the gift of theHoly Ghost, have not feared knowingly to violate °the ¯temple of God" (139) and to grieve the Holy Spirit. (140) And it is :in keeping with divine clemency that sins be not. thus pardoned us without any satisfaction, lest seizing the occasion and considering sins as trivial and offering insult and affront to the. Holy Spirit (141) we should fall into graver ones. treaguring up to ourseloes wrath against the day of wrath.-(142) For without doubt, these satisfactions greatly restrain from sin, check as it were with a b.it, and make penitents more cautious and vigilant in the future; they also remove remnants of sin, and by acts of the opposite " - ' virtues destroy habits acquired by evil living. Neither was there ever in the Church of God any way held more certain to ward off °impending chastisement by the Lord than that men perform with true sorrow of mind these works of penance. (43) Add to this, that" while We by making satisfaction suffer for "our sins, we are made con-formable to Christ Jesus who satisfied for our sins (144). from whom is all our sufficiency (145), having thence also a most certain ~ledge, that if we suffer .with fiiro, we shall also be gloriI~ed with him. (1.46) Neither is this satisfaction which we discharge for our sins so our own as not to be through Christ Jesus: for we who can do nothing of ourselves as of ourselves, can do all things with the . cooperation of Him who strengthens us. (147) Thus man has not wherein to glory, but all our glorying is in Christ (148), in wl~om we live (149), in whom we merit, in whom. we make satisfaction, bringing forth fruits worthy of penance (150), which have their efficacy from Him, by Him are offered to the Eather, and through Him are a~ccepted by the Father. .The priests of the Lord must therefore, so far as reason and prudence suggest, impose s~lutary and suitable satisfactions, in keeping with the nature of the crimes and tBe ability of the penitent; o_therwise, if they should connive at sins and deal too leniently with penitents, imposing certain very light 139) See I Corinthians 3:17 140) Ephesians 4:30 141) Hebrews 10:29 142) Romans 2:5: James 5:3 143) Matthew 3:2. ~: 4:17; 11:21 144) Romans 5:10 ¯ 145) See II Corinthians 3:5 146) Romans 8:17 147) See II Corinthians 3:5 ; Philippians 4."13 148) See I Corinthians 1:31 ; II Corin-thians 10:17: Galatians 6 : 14 149) Acts 17:28 150) Matthew 3:8: Luke 3:8 AUGUSTINE KLAAS works for very grave offenses, they might° become partakers in the sins of others. But let them bear in mind that the satisfaction they impose be not only for the protection, of a new life and a remedy against infirmity, but also for the atonement and punishment of past sins; for the early Fathers al~o believed and taug.ht that the keys of the priests were bestowed not to loose only but also to bind. (151) . It.was riot°their understanding, moreover, that the sacrament, of pen-ance is a tribunal of wrath or of punishments, as no Catholic ever understood that through our satisfactions the efficacy of the merit and satisfaction of our.Lord Jesus Christ is either obscured 0r in any way diminished; but since the innovators wish to understand it sd, they teach, in ~rder to destroythe efficacy and use of satisfaction, that a new life is the best penance. It (the council) teaches furthermore that the liberality of .the divine munificence is so great that we are .able through Jesus Christ to make satisfaction to God the Father not only by punishments .vo!untarily undertaken by ourselves to atone for-sins, or by those imposed by t~e¯ judgment of the priest according to the measure of our offense, but also, and this is the greatest proof of love, by the temporal afflictions imposed by God and borne patiently by us. 151) Matthew 16:19; John 20:23 OUR CONTRIBUTORS LOUIS J. PUHL is professor of" ascetical theolbgy at the Pontifical College ,Josephinum, Worthington, Ohio. AUGUSTINE KLAAS is professor of sacramental theology; THOMAS A. O'CONNOR, of sacred oratory; MALACHI ,J. DONNELLY~, of dogmatic theology;¯and ADAM C. ELLIS, of canon law at St. Mary's College; St. Marys,~Kansas. ,JOSEPH V.SOMMERS is completing his course of theology at St. Mary's College. "WHAT'S A DOMINICAN?" ¯ Original, attractive, well-illustrated, this vocation booklet should have a wide. appeal among boys in the uppper grades and in the first years of ~high school. It will surely help many to "better know and love [the] sons of St. Dominic . [and] aspire to join their ranks." For co1~ies address Brother Bede's~ Mailbox, Dominican House of Studies, River Forest, Illinois. Irnrnaculat:e I-lead: o[ h~ary Thomas A. O'Connorl S.J. ItTHERE ~ill be peace if: . ." " - | " Th~ Queen of Peace, the M6ther of God, is speaking. The scene is a rocky, barren cove out-side a small town, sixty miles north of Lisbon in Portugal. It is ~July 13, 1917. Three shepherd children, aged ten, nine, and seven, wide-eyed in wonderrrient, are listening to a beautiful Lady who has appeared to them. She is con-fiding a great secret to them: the secret of the world's peace. It is the message of Fatima. Marg's Message God wishes to establish in the wbrld devotion-to my Immacu-- late Heart. "If people do whatI have told you, many souls will be saved and will find peace. The war [World War I] is going to end, but if people do not cease to offend God. not much time Will el~ps~, and precisely during the next Pontificate. another and more te,rrible war [Wo, rld War II] will commence. When a night illhmined by an unknown light is seen, know that it is the signal which God gives you that the chastisement of the world for its many transgressions is at hand through war, famine. and persecution, of the Church and Of the Holy Father. "To avoid this, I ask for the consecration ot:" the world to mg Immaculate Heart, and Communion in reparation on the tirst Satur-dag of each month. If my requests are h~ard, Russia will be converted and there will be peace. Otherwise, great errors will be spread throughout the world, giving rise to wars and persecutions against the Church. The gobd will suffer much. Different nations will be destroyed; but in the end, my Immaculate Heart will triumph. The Holy Father will consecrate Russia to me; Russia will be converted, and an era of peace will be granted to humanity. Thus spoke Our Blessed Mother. It was ari answer to ¯, 25 THOMAS A. O'CONNOR Review for Religious the Catholic w~;rld's petition for peace. After all human efforts to secure peace had failed, Pope Benedict XV instructed the bishops of the world to communicate to all his ardent desire "that recourse be made to the, Heart of Jesus, Throne of grace, and to this Throne recourse be made .through Mary . To Mary, then,, who is the M6ther of Mercy and omnipotent by grace, let loving, and devout appeal go up from every corner of the earth." ~n her honor he had ~dded to the Litany of Loretto the title "Queen of Peace." Eight days after the Holy Father had made this request, Mary appeared to the children at Fatima. There will be peace if. there is established through-. out the world devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. No matter what happens, in the end the Immaculate Heart of Mary will triumpfi. B~t the establishment and propagation of the devotion to the 'Immaculate Heart of Mary now can spare the world future.wars, suffering, and persecution. Tile Holy Father Fulfills Her Wishes On th~ 31st of October, 1942, Pope Pius XII conse-crated the world and Russia to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. These are his words: To thee, to thy Immaculate Heart in this, humanity's tragic'hour, we consign and consecrate ou'rselves in tinion not onl~r with the Mys-tical Body of ~thy Son, Holy Mother Church, now in such suffeiing and agony in so many places and sorely tried in so many ways, but also witti the entire world, torn by fierce strife, consumed in a fire of hate, victim of its own wickedness . "Give peace to the peoples separated by error or by discord, and espdcia!ly to those who profess such singular devotion to thee and in whose homes an honored place was ever accorded thy venerated icon (today perhaps often kept hidden to await better days): biing them° back to the one fold of Christ under the one true shepherd. The Holy Fatl~er has spokeh. He has consecrated the 26 January, 1946 ~ . IMMACULATE HEART OF MARY world and Russia to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. ' Now ¯ nations and cities, dioceses and parishes, families and indi-viduals have but to follow the lead of the Supreme Pontiff and to consecrate themselves to Mary's ImmacUlate Heart. "All the evil in the "world flows from the ignoring of God's, infinite Majesty and the complete neglect of His ¯ divine commands," Pope Pius XII once stated. The way back to God is through sinlessness and purity of life. Mary, the Immaculate One, is the way. She "our life, our ~weet-ness and our hope" is the. way to peace. The Hearts of Jesus and Mary Of all ,hearts, the most intimately united to and most closely identified with the,Sacred Heart .of Christ is the . Most Pure Heart of Mary, His Mother. It is not strange, then, that the devotion tO the Immaculate Heart of M~iry is very similar to devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. ¯ - As the physical Heart of Christ, the symbol of His love, is the object of the devotion to the Sacred Heart, so in a Simila~ manner the object to which this devotion is directed is the physical Heart of'Mary considered as the symbol of her love for God and for man. In honoring Christ's heart, we honor His divine person; and in honoring Mary's Heart, we 'honor her whole person, sifice her Heart .but symbolizes the love which motivated her whole being in every action of her life. Finally, like devotion to the Sa~red Heart, devo. ¯ tion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary expresses itself, first . in the specific practices of acts of consecration and rep~ra.-" tion, and secondly in the more generic practices 6f prayer and love and imitation of her virtues. ¯ Consecrqtton In 1899 Pope L.eo XIII, performing what .he termed ' ¯ "theogreatest act" of hi~ pontifica~e,~consecrated the whole world to the Sacred Heart. - 27 TH~31~AS A. O'CONNOR ~ . . Reoieto/or Religious' Just as when the.n.ew.ly born Church lay.helpless under the yoke of .the Ca~'sars, there ~ppeated in~ the heavens a cross, at once the sign and cause of the marvellous victory that was soon to 'follow, so today before o.ur very eyes there appears another most happy and holy sign, "the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, crowned by a brilliant cross set amid raging flames. In this Sacred" Heart. we shall place all our hopes; .from it, too, we ask and await salvatio~i. (Annum Sacrum.) The:purpose of that consecration was.to acknowledge God's supreme dominion over the whole "v(.orld and over the hearts of men. ~ndividuals consecrating themselves to the Sacred Heart voluntarily~professed this sovereignty over :¯themselves. In r~evealing this devotion to St. Marga~)et Mary, the Sacred Heart insisted more on "the immense love which He has borne to us than on His:fights over us" (Pius XI; Miserentissimus). Father Putz, S.J., says, As His dominion is one 6f lo~e and He wants submission out of love, the consecration is made to the Sacred Heart, the symbol of His love., 'Being consecrated to Him, we belong to Him in a special manner, we are placed under His special protection, we are sure of His special help 'and care. The s~me may be said; in as far as it is @plicable, of consecrating Ourselves to the Immaculate Heart Of Mary. LiKewise we may say that there has now appeareda new sign in the he~ivens. It is the radiantly beautiful, spotlessly pure, Immaculate Heart of~ Mary-~-the way to individual and world peace. The confident hope is that the whole world and each individual will consecrate himself to her Immaculate Heart and thus accomplish the purpose of theworld's consecra-tion tothe Sacred Heart, namely, that the "whole ~orld¯ will submit joyfully and willingly to th~ easy. yoke Of ':~hrist the King," and that the "fruits of,,the consecration will be to °bind With Chriatian love in the communion of pe, ace all peoples to the heart of the Ki~g, of Kings and danuar~, 1946 " " IMM~CULA'I:EHEART OF MARY SOvereign iof Sovereigns':~ (Miserentissimus). " : ' That this i~the purpose of the consecration of the world tO the Immacul~ate Heart'0f Maryis best expressedby Pope Pius XII: , As the Church andthe entire human r~ce oweie-cohse~fated to th~ Sacred Heart of Jesus.so that in ~eposing all hope in Him, H~might become for them the sign and pledge of victory and salvation; so we in like manner¯ consecrate burselves forever ~Iso to thee and. to. thy Immaculate Heart, Our Mother and Queen, that thy love and patron-age may hasten the triumph of the Kingdom of God and that all nations, at.peace With one another and with God, m~iy proclaim thee blessed an'd with thee may raise their voices to resound from pole t6 pole in the chant of the everlasting Magnificat of glory, l~sve and gratitude to the Heart of Jesus, .where alone they can find truth, and peace. -Pope Plus XII first consecrated-the world to the Immaculate Heart of Mar'y on October" 31, 1942. That same year, on the Feast of the Immaculate Con.c.eptioni he pubiicly repeated the Act of Consecration in.St. Peter's l~asilica. The official English translation of.the" Act of Consecration was 15ublished in the REVIEW FOR RELICdOU$ in 1943, p. 71. For the private consecration Of individuals ¯ any suitable form of words sufficest Reparation Reparation is an integ~al part of the devotion, to the. Sacre'd Heart. If in the act of consecration the intention t~ exchange, as it were, for the love of tl~ Creator the love of us creatures stands out most prominently, ther~ follgws almost naturally from this another fact. namely, that if this same Uncreated I~ove has either been passed ove~ through forgetfulness .or saddened by reason of our sins, then~ we ~should repair such outrages.-. We call this duty reparation. . Therefore we must add to the act of consecration. , . an act of expia-tion, b~" means of which all our faults are blotted out (Miserentissi- When Out'Lord a~peared to St, Margaret Mary, He 29 THOM/~S A. O'CONNOR Reolew for "Religious .asked that ~he Feasf of the Sacred Heart be established in .reparation for the sin~ of men, and t~ practice Of the nine -First Fridays .followed from the twelfth of His promises. Similarly in the devotion to the .Immaculate Heart Of Mary, reparation is an integral part. When Our Blessed Mother appeared ~.to the shepherd children, she s~iid: "I ask'f0r.the consecration of the world to my immaculate Heart, and Communion in reparation ono the first, Saturday of each month." Sister Lucy of.Jesus, one of the shepherd children to. whom Our Lady api~eared, gives the words Our Blessed Mother used: ~ - My. child, behold my Heart all pierced with thorns which the blasphemies and ingratitude of men drive deeper ~t every moment. Do thou, at least try to console me, and make known to men that I promise to assist at the hour of death with the gracqs necessary for salvation all those who,. on the first Saturday of. five.consecutive months, .go to confession, receive Holy Communion, say the Rosary, and spend a quarter of an hour with me in meditating .on the fifteen mysteries of tl~e Rosary, with the object of making reparation to me. On the 13th of May, 1939, the Bishop.of Fatima caused the following to be pfiblished: "It is Our Blessed Lady Her-self Who in our tim~ has deigned to teach us this devotion to the Five First Saturdays, the object of which is to make reparation to the Immaculate Heart of Mary for all offences and outrages committed against. her by ungrateful men." Pra~ter and Penance ~In his encyclical, Caritate Christi Computsi, Pope Pius,XI urged upon all the Spirit of prayer and-penitential reparationas the ex.tra.ordin~ry ~emedy for the e:~tr.aordi-nary needs Of the times. Our Lady in her appearanceh to the. shepherd children recommended 'prayer and pemince. "Pray, pray very much,"' she said on August 19, "and make sacrifices for sinners~. for. many souls, go to bell because there ~0 danuar~l, 1"946 , IMMACULATE HEART OF MARk' is no one to make sacrifices for them." H(r message'in October .was similar. "She said that she was Our Lady of the Rosary," the children testified, "and their we must repent of our sins, "change our lives, and no longer offend Our Lord, who-is so much offende!!" The prayer she recomme.fided most was the Rosary. Pope Plus XII, in his radio address to Portugal, dwelt on the same needs. After recalling that it is proper to have confidence in Mary, he added: But, lest this confidence,be presumpt~uous, it is necessary . . . for us to listen to the maternal advice she g;~ve at the wedding of Cana and do everything that, Jesus tells us to do. And He tells us all to do penance . to amend our lives, and to flee from sin, which is the principal cause of the terrible punishments with which Eternal Jus-tice is afflicting the world . [He bids us] to be the salt that~pre2 serves and,the light that iilumines, to cultivate purity and to show forth in our manner of life the austerity of the Gospel . More still, [He tells us] . to diffuse around us, near and far, the perfume of Christ, and by constant prayer --- especially the daily Rosary--as well as by such sacrifices as zeal inspires, to win for sinful souls the life of grace and eternal happiness . Sorrowful in her foresight of th'~s great misfortune with which the Justice of God is punishing the world, Mary has pointed out that the way to save the world is by prayer and penance . Martj Omnipotent by Grace¯ We should be most eager and fervent in our devotio~ to the Immaculate Heart of Mary because, as the Mother of God and our Mother, all graces, gifts, and favors come to us from G~d through Mary¯ She is the Mediatrix of all graces. She is omnipotent by grace. Hence it was that Benedict XV wrote on May 5, 1917: Because all graces which the Author of every good deigns to distributg ¯ . . are., dispersed by the hands of the most holy V~irgin, we ~;ish the petitions of her most afflicted children to be directed with lively confidence., to the great Mother'of God . . . To Mary, then, who .31 THOMAS A. O'CONNOR is the Mother of Mercy and omnipotent .by~ grace, let loving and devout appeal go up from every corner of the earth." Pope .Pius ~XI, concluded his encyclical Miserer~tissirnus with an act of confidence "in her intercession with ~lesus . . . who wished to associate His own Mother with Himself as the advocate of sinner~, as the dispenser and mediatrix of grace." This same note of confidence in Mary was expressed by Pope Plus XII in his radio address to the people of Portugal, in which he consecrated the wo~rld to the Immaculate Heart of Mary: .Toda~-, . . there remains to us only confidence in God and, as in intermediary before "the divine throne, in her whom one of our prede.cess0rs during the first world war invoked as the Queen of Pefidd. " Letus invdke her again, for she alone can help us! . . . " Queen 0f'the Most Holy Rosary, Hell0 o~ Christians, .Refuge of the~Human Race, Victress in all God's battles, we humbly prostrate Oursdves before thy thron~, confident,that we shall obtain mercy, and- ~eceive grace and bountiful 'assista'fice 'and protection in the present chlamity, not fhrough ou, r own inadequate merits, but solely' through ith.e, great go0dfiess of thy Maternal heart . Queen of Peace, pray for us. and give to the world at war the peace for which all people are longing, peace in thetruth, justice, and charity of Christ. Give peace to the warring; nations and'to the souls of men, that in the tranquillity of order the Kingdom of God may prevail. Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us! INDEX OF BAC~K NUMBERS REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is indexe~l in the CATHOLIC PERIODICAL "INDEX. Con-tent~ of previous issues can be found by consulting the Readers' Gu.ide in your library. 32 The Magnetic Power 0t: Chris!: Malachi ~l.Donnelly, S.J, AS CHILDREN we .all played with an iron magne.t, and later, when we studied physics in high school, we perfdrmed experiments with the magnet. It was ", put under a piece of paper and upon the surface of this paper were scattered particles of iron dust. As we tapped the paper gently, we saw the tiny bits of iron arrange them selves in a definite pattern around the poles of the magne.t. We learned that between all the particlesthere was an inter~ play and exchange of magnetic power. Hence, they were not isolated units, bu.t closely interrelated and continually receiving and exercising magnetic influence. Further, all the power they had of influencing the.surrounding iron - particles all this came from the central magnet, their only. power-source. Finally, the-power of each tiny.iron filing depended on (1) its nearness to the.magnet, as source_of power; and'(2) its freedom from base alloys, which might render the iron particle less susceptible to the magnetic influence of the central source. With this illustration ~well in mind, let us consider briefly the religious life and especially ,the influence which every religious should exert on the world about him. Above all, the religious should realize the source of his power and what he must do that this power be his in the highest degree possible. This realization is of the greatest importance today, when everyone is talking, about post-war reconstruction and when even secular leaders are beginning to recognize the l~act that a material rebuilding will be of MALACHI J. DONNELLY " Reoiew [or Religigus little avail v~ithout a renewal of spiritual forces. Religious. .must,. and can,-play a major part in this post-war spiritual recopstruction, as we hope that the following, paragraphs " 'will illustrate. The life of _religious is not a fleeing from life. Nor, again, is it a mere repression of powerful life-tendencies. And, finally, it is not an utter abandonment of the world of human beings 6utkide the cloistered wall. Rathdr, the religious life is truly a fleeing towards, life, towards 'that source of all life, 3esud Christ, who has said of Himself, :"I am. the Life." Far from. repressing vital instincts, " the~teligious'life assures, thoiigh in a higher Spherel their full development. The religious life must mean a love-seeking, a love-search, but for God and men in God. This means that all true life-tendencies, tlhouglhts, will-acts (.yes, ~motions, too)--the whole human being must be 'vitally ~oncerned with this loving quest of God. ., From the psychological pc~int of view, such a life should never resultS in "crabbiness," neuroses of various kinds, or crippling inhibitions. The religious do~s not live a vacuum L life. He me~ely takes one ointment (indeed, good in itself) . frorfi the e:~rthly ~¢essel that it may be replaced by a" more precious perfume. True, if it does not attain its posit.ive p~rfection, such a life might well rest~lt in mere inhibitions and a consequent unwholesome, if not downright neurotic, frame:of mind. With regard to women in particular, this is well expressed in an excellent modern study: If we religio~s women fail to cultivate love on the high level of the supernatural, if we permit our love to center in self, we shall deteriorate in our spiritual .life and become objects o~f disedification within and without our convent wails. In the married state, as Wife and m~ther,a woman unfolds love, tenderness and co~apassion. In. " religious life, the sources of natural de, velopment are closed to her.She is" expected to-unfold love ori a supernatural level love for her , Divine Spouse and for the members of His Mystical Body. danuary~ 1946 MAGNETId POWER OF CHRIST If sh~ fai|S to cultivate this love; she be¢0m~s devoid of-all love, excepting self-love, which expresses itself in seeking morbid .h.um~an affections. She sinks into a condition that is not proper to her nature. The-finer qualities of he~ being dry up for want of fost.ering care. She becomes uhnatural in hard and exclusive selfishness.I But,.if lived as a positive, full-s6uled (-and ffill-hea~ted)i seard~i.ng f~r God, t~e hidden" l~i~e of the religious can never be.other thana fuller perfe~ti0n anti more complete dev~l~ opmentof human nature, of soul and of body, of the entire man. With attention now drav)n to the positive side of the religious life,.let us see what'eff~ct a relig!ous life WellAived can have on the world about us. Perhaps tile answer may be found in a consideration Of the religious and the Mystical Body of Christ. As we all know, the Mystical Body is truly liying and organic: Bodily life. is the power-of perfective, self-movement in an organism. It depends on nourishment 'from outside the living body, on food which through assimilation becomes part of the body and .supplies .the power by. which the living organism" directs itself in organic movement towards a definite end. Again, an o~ganism is made up of.heterogeneous parts. different in shape, and function, each of .which finds own perfection in working t~wards the good of the Whole .bqdy. And througho_ut the individual organs there flows the common life of the complete body. The life of the Mystical. Body is sanctifying grace, that divine life shared by men and poured forth into our souls by the Holy S~irit who is given to us. From the Holy Spirit, who is breathed forth into our souls by Father and " Son, ~omes our created Share of that same diC, ine life which 1Two Sisters of Notre Dame, Soul Clinic (New York and Chicago: Pustet. 1943). pp. 10-11. For a review of this excellent book. confer REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, II. p, 130. 35 MALACHI'J. DONNELLY " Reoieto /or Religious the three.divine Persons possess as identified, with theirown Persons. " - The life-movement of the Mystical Body is nourished by the in-take and assimilation of thi~ Christ-life, divine grace. Gra~e perfects the individual member and then, like the color of health,radiates out through the entire Mystical .Body and brings with it a health-restoring, or, as the case may be, a life-perfecting power. The movement of the members, or organs, of the Body will be an organic, hence corpo.rate movement towards God, the final end, the highest .good of the entire Body. As !.iving members of the Mystical, Body, we religious are, like ir0n-filings With respect to the central ma.gnet, grouped around Christ, our source of spiritual power. All the sup.ernatural efficiency we ba.v.e comes from Him, the uhique source. As members of Christ's Body, we receive and give off power, spiritual power received fro~ Christ the Head of the Body. Our sup,e.rnatural power .and efficiency depend on two things; (1) our nearness to Christ the sourcd of this power, and (2) the absence of base alloy in o~r sduls, that is, self-love and pridemin a word, the absence of worldliness, which implies a most subtle blending o.f pride and sensuality. ~ The communication of this divine lif~ to men is not a blind, necessary process. Christ does not force His life upon men. If men are to receive the life that ~lesus Christ came into the world .to give, they must freely respond to the, life-call. And here it is that we must look for the part played by the religious in post~war reconstruction. ~lust as iron-filings .far removed from the central .mag-net get magnetic'power only t~rough the intervening par- , ticles of iron which are closer to the magnet, so, too, in the ordinary,ways of God with men, the divine life, sanctifying grace, is given to men through the aid of other human January, 1946 MAGNETIC .POWER OF' CHRIST beings. ¯ This does not~mean that'men actually, give grace to others. But it doesmean that, ordinarily, the interior soul;life', divine grace, is given largely in'dependence upon external graces-offered directly through a fellow human being. How does this take place? In exa~t proportion as you keep close to 3esus Christ, your Source, will you get power~ and~ life. You know that worldliness is the, only real obstacle that can keep the divine life f~m flooding the inmo'st parts of. your soul. You know that,,by destroying self-love, by loving Chris~, by being, ambitious df the last place .in your Community to be in the first place i~ear~st Christ--you know that 'it is thus that y.ou Open the flood-gates for the rush of the divine life that is surging agalnst your soul. Add a real spirit of praye~ and what results? ~ Simply this: life floods.your souL. t~ut not to remain damm.ed up there.- No, like a riv~er in springtime," this life will overflow and flood all around you. Fill~d with ~this diyine life, you will benign to renew the face 'of the earth. You will bring one~essary external graces to a world hun-gering for divine life. Certainiy~, as even the unbeliever, George Bernhrd Shaw, maintained, the most powerful force in the world is personal example. And when this personal .example is the .overflo.w from intense love "of God, what must not its force be! Your own transformed life will bring to others, however faintly, the Very beauty of'Christ's own life, And there is-noth!ng that so wins.even the heart of the most hardened sinner as seeing Christ reflected .in a fellow human being of flesh and blood. The religious does not lead an in~sulated life, like a moth in a cocoon. If one rfiay Use a homely expbession, the ~reli-gious does not ride to heaven in an enclosed compartment. NO, he ride~ the coaches; and they aie crowded with fellow travelers hungeriiag for the life which you can give them. MALACHI J. E)ONiqEI~L~! ReoieW fo~ Reli0iou,~ TO "each person with whom you comeAn contact an infl'u.- - ence'goes forth from'y0u. And the real wortlawhileness o'f tha~.:infltience~, its spiritual value, is p~oportined to "your nearness to Christ." " 7~g.ain, it is well to remember that our workois the york of~Christ operating through us., We are really instruments in His hands. And, we all know that ~he effect produced by an instrument depends not .only 'on the dignit~y of the one ,using the instrument. " In order-to write well. the pen mus,t baste a good point, the ink mu~st notbe muddy. : Otherwise scratching and blottingappear. :'In similar mannevChrist ~ will not work ~ffectively th.rough the religious, if he as a f011o.wer of Christ does not condition and prepare himself to bi~ a good instrument in the hands of Christl Many there are, perhal3s. Who, in the eternM designs ~f God' will" ~r~directly owe their salvation' to you i*nd to you alon~. If you'rende.r yourselffit ?orpassing on the divine .life' in your own soul to others, then yo.u w~ll really save-souls. " : Surely, then, it is true that the-religious close to Christ will do much ~in the post-war reconstruction. Fbr brick ahd ste.el, bombs arid ta'nks are not what this world needs ~to insure a lasting peace.- What the world needs is a spiritual catharsis, a'complete soul-purging. And only the gra~e ~f " God can do this. That is the one and only all-out essential for mankind. And the one who can best.secure and apply this specific, this healer of the wounds of the world, is the fervent religious. Through the Christ,loving r~ligi6us. through the religious in close contact with Our Lo'rd, the" Christ-lif~ goes out to men. " In the classroom, the pupils will ,see in thkir instructor not just a human teacher, but rather one who,reflects Christ. And not only will the power of the religious teacher be increased, but the students will be impelled to seek after the- 38" January, 1946 MAGNETIC POWER OF CHRIST source bf the beautiful power that shines forth from their instructor. ' ° ~ In the hospital, the patients,~ Staff"members, arid ififei~nS, ~he o.r~lerlies,, the kitch~en help, and the janitors all will See in the religious, ' not .just a nurse, but a mirror ofChrist Who healed bodies ithat men might¯ v~ith this renewed healthalso get new life for their souls. Everywhere, then, in orphanages, in homes¯ for the a~ged7 eveffin the hidden life of¯the kitchen,-~his Christ-life must be.found pulsatirig in the soul of the religious. And from the religious this life must go forth to the world.For this Christ-life alone can renew the face of the. world, alone can effect a lasting reconstruction and a lasting peace among men. BOOKLET.NOTICES FIELD AFAR PRESS, 121 East 39th Street, New York, N. Y. Mar~.tknoll Mission Letters. Volume II, 1945. 50 cents. This ~dition of .the .Mission Letters¯ includes the-Mgryknoli Superior General's_ report on his recent visitation of the missions in China, a letter describing the . life and work of Father Rauschenbach. and the eulogy preached at the funeral Mass for Father Cummings---originator of "There are no atheists in fox-holes." Besides there are the usual interesting and informative letters from Maryknollers in China, the Philippines, and Ceniral and South America. THE NEWMAN BOOKSHOP, Westminster, Maryland. The Catholic Doctor and Catholics on the Police Force. both by Francis J. Con-nell, C.S.S.R. (Brief ~xplanations of the-moral obligations of doctors and policemen respectively). 15 cents each. GRAYMOOR PRESS, Peekskill, New York, Tale o: a Troubador. by Samuel Cummings, S.A. (A brief life of St. Francis of Assisi'). I0 cents. MONASTERY OF THE PRECIOUS BLOOD, 54thStreet and Fort Hamilton Parkway, Brooklyn 19, New York. Fighting Our Spiritual Enemies, 10 cents; O~w Warfare on the Spiritual Front, 5 cents. Both by a Sister of the Pre.cious, Blood. (The first of these booklets is intended for religious only; the second for lay people). " , THE CAMPION PRESS. 1184 Phillips Place, Montreal, Canada. Rosaries [or Russia: Little Meditations on the Rosary, by Magnus Seng. I 0 cents. "'PROSVITA-ENLIGHTENMENT'.' 61 I- Sinclair Street. McKeesport, Penna., and "AMER. RUSSKY VIESTNIK" Greek Catholic Union Bldg., Munhall, Penna. The Major Holy-Days (Greek Rite.). by the Reverend 3ulifis Gi-igaisy, D.D., and the Reverend Stephen Loya. N6price given. ¯ ommun ¢a!: ons - [NOTE: With regard'to communications published, the only" r~sponsibility ¯assumed by the editors, is to see that the letters contain nothing contrary to the approved teaching of the Church in matters of faith and morals. The opinions expressed in the communications should be judged on their own merits.] Reverend Fathers: You said you would welcome communications describing obstacles encountered in working for interracial justice. I want to outline a situation that constitutes such an obstacle. There is a Catholic high scho~l for. girls (one only) iffa.certain city: .t.he city's population is one-fifth Negro and one-half or more ~Catholic. ¯ The Sisters of this school are eager to do all they can to~ bring the blessings of higher Catholic education to the colored as well as the white ~girls of high school age. They long for converts among the colored, among whom the Church is little known. What can they do? Prejudice runs high ¯ in this town. But the nuns are not afraid of prejudice. They tell themselves, at least, that thdy would rather be lynched, with the col-ored than lynch with the white. They say, "We would,ripen our - halls to colore~l girls this afternoon, and remove .the lie which our doctrine of the Mystical Body of Christ, taught but not practiced. m~kes us live. But we have not the auth6rity of the clergy behind us." These Sisters talk racial justice in season and out Of season. They "teach a unit on it to every religion student. They write articles, give and have students give speeches, hold interracial panels, and urge girls, to take part in interracial retreats. And then they realize, in a cold sweat, that they are teacbihg their students that, as a matter of fact. o the local clergy are not bei.ng true to their pastorates. For it is known that the priests consider these .Sisters imprudent, not to say misled. And when the schedule o'f sermons calls for a sermon on brdtherly love. every pastor in the city talks about hating Japanese, of whom there are none in the city. or Germans, whom. they do not hate: but no pastor so much as mentions the Negroes-living just three or four blocki away in a shantied Africa that is largely the direct[ result of white oppr.ession, mistrust, and. in many cases, white hatred. Who would say that these Sisters are not, though with the best of intentions, forced either to deny the doctrine of the Mystical Body in practice by refusing Catholic secondary education to a portion of 40 'COMMUNICATIONS the Catholic population because of color; or, on the dther hand~ to prepare the way for the rending of tl~at same Mystical Body by teaching doctrines their students do not see upheld by.the ecclesiastical ~uthorities? Now everybody knows that many a Catholic diocese is not up a~ainst such.a prgblem as this. In many places the ecclesiastical supe-riors are backing fully and with Christ-like zeal the work of zealous lovers of racial jus~tice. But it is not done everywhere; and the tragic urievenness of the thing hu~ts. I suggest that your readers pray earnestly that the spiritual authorities will back us urffforrnl~t ,and ev, eryu)here so that the souls of our Negro brethren may not go on-languishing because loyalty to ecclesiastical authority keeps us from acting fully and with all our resources in their favor. " Sister Reverend Fathers: Father Coogan is right (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, ,November 15, 1945): "Hopes for a racially,~better day lie largely with religious, especially teachers." To. begin liquidating these l~opes many religious can within obedience use their.ingenuity about fostering the Christian attitude, They find opportunities, many or f~wer according to local circumstances, of influencifi'g their students. They can always give good example. They can a.t.the fight, moment encourage and direct classroom discussions: they can at time~s inspire their students through direct instruction and exhortation. ~ " The students are ge.nerally far ahead of their eiders, both parents and teachers, on matters interracial. "School strikes just don't hap-pen, unless the youngsters themselves are certain of being supported by parents, and even by teachers and pastors. ,.lanie and 2ohnny stand in no "picket lines once they hear an unmistakable order from home to '.'Get back into that school building!" The kids will squeal t~ the crooning of a generous, well-intentioned Sinatra; but a,snappy. rebuke from Dad packs more authority than an old-fashioned truant o~_cer. . ~ We were carrying on a discussion in my sophgmore class about the advisability of admitting Negroes to theschool, a private, academy for boys in a large Mid-Western city. Two or threeloud voices were" adamant, but the group all in all was very' favorable. -The discus, sion, however, was brought to a premature end by this p-olitely . 41 COMMUNICATIONS intoned comment: "If we're real Catholics, Father, we have to !~ C61ored boys into the school, The fellowss~em to agree on that. So it's.up'to the school authorities to talk'about it and do something." Since then two Negroes have been admitted and are-doing well. So is the school. Many authorities are in a position, to do mort by way of effective planning f6r Negro students. Those institutions which do havea "token attendance"i could'in many cases go a ~tep further by positively encouraging well qualified Colored youth--inviting them to scholar-ship competitions, personally canvassing their 'families, contacting Catholic pastors in Negro neighborhoods, etc. Elizabeth Adams has a poignant observation "in h~r autobio-graphical Darh Sgmphong: "Think of the number of Religious wh~) pray dail)~ to suffer--to share humiliations like those endured by. the Christ ;~ yet, if accepting a Colored child in a school or boarding home would mean financial loss to their institution, they would deny that child admittance." Truth is, Catholic schools have suffered not the siightest l~ermanent loss by accepting Negroes. Richa.r.d A. Schuchekt, S.J. West Baden, Indiana. CONCERNING COMMUNICATIONS We always welcome letters from our readers and are: eager to publish such as may prove helpful to others. However, to facilitate our work and to avoid confusion, we request that correspondents observe the following suggestions: 1. If you want your letter published, address .the envelope to: Communications Department Review for Rel;g|oui St. btary's College St. Maws, Kansas 2. If at all possible, type the letter, double-spaced. . 3. Make the letter as brief as you°reasonably can, without however sacrificing ideas for the sake of brevity,t 4.~ Sign ~rour name and ad~lres~, at the end of the letter~. If, however, you do not wiih your name and address published, add a postscript to that effect, In the past we have published some letters that were not signed, and we may do so again in the future. -However, we cannot guarantee that unsigned letters will receive the same consideration as those that are signed.--THE EDITORS. 42 The Virtue of IEquit y LouisJ. Puhl, S.J. 4~AUL, having passed through the upper country, came to Ephesus and found certain disciples; to whom be said, 'Did ye receive the Holy Spirit when ye believed?' But they answered, 'Nay, we have n0.t even heard whether there be a Holy Spirit.' " (Acts 19' 1-2.) If an examination were conducted on the virtue of equ!ty, it is safe to say that .many answers would much resemble that Of the Ephesian disciples of St. Paul. Yet St. Thomas,°in his treatment of justice in the Summa (II- _ti, q. 120, a. 1), not.only defends itsplace among the vir:. ~ues but calls it a :'superior rule of human action,'; the noblest species of justice. Equity, according, to St. Thomas, rises above the dead .letter of the law,. that killeth, and-seeks to be guided by the spirit of tl~e law. by the intention of the lawgiver. It is impossib!~ for the limited human mind so to word a law or command that it will cover every set of circumstances that may arise. The lawgiver, as St. Thomas points, out, has in mind that which happens in the majority of cases and cannot foresee the almost infinite variety of circum: stances that may at times make it impossib, le to observe the 1citer of the law. (Summa, II-II,q. 120, a. 1.) An illus'tration from obedience wil! make the-matter clear. No one could be considered obedient who by. observing the letter of the law thereby, defeats the very put.- pose and intention of the superior. St. Thomas gives a few s!mp!e and striking examples of the application of equity to the natural law. If a madman Should demand the return of a:sword he bad deposited with us, we would be bound to 43 Louis J. PUHL Reoietu for R~ligious refuse to return it. in order to protect, .the lives of others. Sho~Id~someonedemand the return of a sum of mon.ey he had ~intrusted to us, the common good would oblige us to refuse if he intended to use it to fight against his country.~ Moralists and canonists are familiar with this matter. underanother name. They commonly retain the.Gfei~k word of Aristotle, epicheia. However, they are so busy with the exceedingly complicated and ever-recurring cases. of commutative justice and taw that they do ngt.look upon. it from.the point ~of view of the virtue, as St. Thomas does~ but rather from the angle of legitimate interpretation Or exception to the law. ¯. This question has a far greater bearing on the daily lives of religious .than may at first be appa_refit. Superiors often have the duty to judge of the application of certain. laws of the. Church to tl'ieir, subjects. They should, kn~w the recognized "excusing causes" from these obligations so i:hat neither they nor'their subjects will have to bear bur-dens theywere never intended to.carry. Also they should know the legitimate exceptions to their constitutions and;. according to circumstances, should "temper these and the-- prescriptions of rule and the Orders .of:higher. superiors." - If they have no concept of duty other than the literal observance of the law, actual injustice may be done in indi-vidual circumstances and the whole purpose of the law may be defeated. They must understand that conditions ~an arise in which it is eviderit to any prudent person ~hat the lawgiver never intended the lav~ to bind. In such. gases, both the cbmmon good and justice to the individual demand that they consider the spirit Of the law and the intention of the lawgiver. Canon Sheehan wrote a beatitiful novel, "The Blindness Of Dr. Gray. Throughout the story, "It is the law," w~s the final decision of the deluded doctor, on all points. 44 danuar~l, 194~ TH, E VIRTUE OF EQUITY C_harity ~nd justice had to yield to this inexorable maxim. The blindness that affected Dr. Gray is not sd uncommon. A misguided zeal for the rule and the constitutions may _ lea~d to flagrant ifijustice against individuals. The comm6n : gobd, too, which is the ultimate, purpose of the law, may then be wholly disregarded. Even individuals may be called upon to exercise the virtue of equity. We cannot always consult, and circum-stances arise that demand immediate action. To follow the letter of the law without regard to circumstances'might do grave damage--might in fact, ac.tually reverse the intention of superiors. In such cases we should observe th~ spirit of the law and make exception to. the letter. St. Thomas quotes an old legal maxim which~states: o. "There is no doubt that he sins against the law .who embraces the letter of the law, and acts. against the willcof .the prince." (Summa, II-II, q. 120, a. 1, ad. 1.) A still greater violation of law arises at times when there is question of what are rather loosely ~alled"customs.': "It is our custom" is the maxim for se~ttling all cases, even to the extent of secretly setting aside the law of the Church and the higher laws of. natural justice and charit.y. The Code itself make~ it clear that, except for cases allowed by. the Church, nb custom can be established against the gen; eral law. The Code speaks of customs in the ;trict sense; what it saysholds with even greater force regarding those things which are customs only in the wide sense.° And the Code does not have to prescribe that.customs cannot be enforced contrary to the divi'ne laws of justice and charity. This expression, "It is our custom," is occasionally used by . both supe.riors and subjects in ways that show a misguided, " if well-meant, Zeal. Superiors sometimes use it to hinder the accomplishment of a greater good; and inferiors use it to criticize certain exceptions made by Christlike superiors. 45 LOUIS J.,,PUHL ~ Review [or Religious I~ is evident that what, is apparently the highest justice may be the gravest injustice: Summum [us, summa iniuria. Our Lord's severe.condemnation of formalism and Phari,~ saism should be earnestly pondered by all who ire' too quick to quote: "It is the law," or, "Iris our custom." In this connection the whole twenty-third chapter of the Gos-. pel accord.ing to St. Matthev~ may be meditated upon with great, profit. Fortunately, we may tak~ it for granted that there are no willfully hypocritical persons such as Our :Lord was dealing with there, but misju.dgments under the' appearanc.e o.f~good may do very great harin to others. In literal truth, those who seriously violate equity "bind. together heavy and oi~pressive burdefls and place them upon. ¯ theshoulders of others, but not with one finger of their own do they choose to move them" (Matthew 23:4.) They neglect "the .weightier ,things of the Law-~. justice and mercy and faith" (Matthew '23:23). They clean ,the out- ~ ,~ide of the cup by apparent legality and zeal for Order and yet serve injustice within the cup. "This is. really straining 9ut the.gnat but swallowing the camel. (cf. Matthew 23:24). It is no wonder that St. Thomas had the highest praise f6r equity. Without it there can be no true justice. It is a virtue c!osely akin to charity, the life and soul of all the vir-tues. It is full of Christian wisdom and prudence, full Of the spirit of Him who was meek and humble of heart, who did not break the bruised reed or quench the smokiflg flax. It looks beyond the dead letter"of the law and the lifeless :formalism of legality. It respects the dignity of man and the~purpose of the law, the good of man, which'ultimately finds its origin in the Infinite Good itself. Often both superi61s and inferiors should recall that riot all are of equal calibre, physically, intellectua.lly, ,spiritually; that they must' apply and interpret laws.and. ,lanuaryo 1946 " THE VIRTUE OF EQUITY ctistoms in the light of ;circumstances in order to practice justice; in fine, that the Virtue of equity, has an important place in our lives. Not all have the bodily strength to endure the same amount of labor or to do th.e same kind of work. Those in authority would be unjust to demand it, and our com-panions are bound not to expect it. Not all can be treated in exactly the same way under the plea of conformity to law and custom. The delicate health of one.demands more attention than others. The material needs of one in clothing and food are not .the sameas those of another.~ We must love poverty and conformity to common life, but neither of these suffers when individual .needs require more for o'neperson than for another. To follow custom or rule blindly when supplying material wants in clothing and conveniences can. result in this anomaly: .that some have far more than they need (and thereby poverty is not observed), while'others are deprived of what is necessary or convenient (and thus the obligation l~he superior assumes when the subject vows poverty into his hands is being neglected). God has not made us all alike. Superior and subjects alike must accept the will of providence and make allovc'ance for all as God has made them; or they ~in against equity. Intellectually not all are fitted for every position. God has not;given equal talent to all. To ask one to undertake a task beyond his ability under the pretext of treating all alike, is to.oppress the weak and do damage to the common~ good. Not all can have the same opportunities for intel-lectual impro~cement.~ Some are not fitted by nature and it would be vain to try to force them or for them to exigec.t it. Circumstances prevent other~ from obtaining the privi-lege. Equity demands that both those who rule and those who are ruled face ~cts, not with a rigid law and 'custom but with intelligence and the kindness of Christ. It would 47 I~0UIS J. PUHL - Review for Religious be futile to appeal to a custorri of seniority a.s giving the. right to be head of,a department, if thereby either the com-mon good or the individual be made to suffer: Equity 'is a~ virtue far above our rank in the community or the laws of sdniori~:y. - ¯ "' Spiritually not all have the:;same gifts .and advance-ment; hence, here again, subjects.and Superiors must make allowance for conditigns in applying law and customs. It would be foolish to ex~ pect the solidity of virtue in a novice that one might readily expect in a mature religious. Neither can we expect ~ev~ry novice to manifest the s~lme spiritual stature nor under the plea of uniform training indiscrimi; nately apply tests in the s~ime manner and with the same severity to all. God has not given the same grac.es t6 all, ,nor have all cooperated equally well in the past? All have not the same character and.the same difficultie's to overcome. There are times, too, when souls may find a tiial very diffi-cult, which-under normal circumstances they could bear very well; and equity talls for a wiseunderstanding of such critical' situationS. We know what happens in education when 'children are given matter beyond their years and are expected to ~pass tests not suited.to their age. The same can happen iri. the spiritual life. There are works, too, which are fraught with spiritual dangers for one but not for, another. It would be unjust to expose one tO danger under the plea of treating all alike. ~Subjects.and officials are bound to recognize these circumstances which demand interpret~ition.of law and custom if'equity is tO l~e observed. ~ Epicheia, the time-honored term for ~quity, that h;is come down to :us from the wisdom of Greece, expresses well the spirit of this virtue; and its full meaning has been taken over in Christian .practice. It. signifies something that is over and above What is strictly in accordance with law, ~6methifig su~eradded:, to mere legal justice. It signifies J~nuary, 1946 ,THE VIRTUE OF: EQUITY clemency, mer~y, reasonableness. A1Lthese meanings show how necessary this virtue is for one claiming to walk in the spirit of Christ. If we have put on Christ, we must l~ave the kindness and mercy of Christ. We must "put off the works of darkness,-, and put on the armor of light'.~ (Romans 13:12). In truth when our justice is guided by equity, we have put on the armor of light, illumined, by faith and vivified by charity. Books Received (From October 20 to December THE NEWMAN BOOK SHOP, Westminster, Maryland. Sermon Outlines for the Sundays and Holy Days of the Year. By William R. O'Connor. $2.25. Holiness for All. By .His ExcellenCy Norbert Roblchaud. 75 cents (Paper). THE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee. World Christianitg. By John J. Considine, M.M. ~ $1.00. The Divine Pur- ~uit. By RaChel Maria. $1.75. The Priest of the Fathers. By Edward L. Heston, C.S.C. $2.50. Going His Way: Little Talks to Little Folks. By Rev. Gerald T. Brennan. $1.75. The Man Who Built the Secret Door. Sister Mary Charitas, S.S.N.D. $1.50. B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, St. Louis. Pascal and His Sister dacquellne. By M. V. Woodgate. $~.00. The State in Catholic Thought. By HeinriCh A. Rommen. $6.00. SHEED ~ WARD, New York. The Flowering'Tree. -By Caryll Houselander. $2.00. dobn Henry Newman. By John Moody. $3.75¯ The Catholic Centre¯ By Edward Ingrain Wat-kin. $3.00. The Splendor of the Rosary.~ By Maisie Ward¯ $2.50. FREDERICK PUSTET COMPANY, New York and Cincinnati. A Tryst with the Holy Trinity. By the Very Rev. Frederick T. Hoeger, C.S,Sp. .$2.50. CREATIVE AGE'pRESS, New York. Chungking Listening Post. By Mark Tennien. $2.50. LA LIBRAIRIE EUCHARISTIQUE, Montreal. La Piete Eucharistique. By J. F. Berube. (No price given.) CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA PRESS, Washington. The Doctrine of S'r. Augustine on Sanctity. By Edward J. Carney, O~S.F.S. (No price given). - THE MARYKNOLL BOOKSHELF, l~Iaryknoll, New York. How the People of Africa Live. By Sister Miriam Claire. $1.00. LO~IC~IAN8, GREEN ~ COMPANY, New York and Toronto. Sptrttual Problems of Our Times. By Luigi Sturzo. $2.00. ¯ 49 May Religious Buy and Sell? Adam C[ Ellis, S.d. .~S A BO,Y,. Christ Our Lord learned the carpenter's~ trade from St. ,loseph; arid after the latter's d~ath, He supported Himself and Our Blessed Lady by His' l~ibo'rs at the carpenter's bench.We can infer this from the testimony of His fellow townsmen. On one of His rare visits to Nazareth, Christ went to tl~e synagogue on the Sabbath and began to'teach. '!And many.hearing Him .were in admiration of his doctrine saying: 'How came this man by all these things? and what wisdom is thisthat is given to him, and such mighty works are wrought by his hands? Is r~ot this the carpenter, the son ot: Mary?" (Mark 6:2, 3). The great Apostle of the Gentiles, St. Paul, imi-tated his Master and supported himself by manual labo_.r. He tells us: "We are homeless and we toil, workirig v)ith our own hands" (I Corinthians, 4: 12)~. And St. Luke informs us that "These two [Aquila and Priscilla] Paul visited and because he was of the same trade he abode with -them, and thus they worked; for by trade they were tent-makers" "(Acts 18:3). Inlthe early centuries'of the Chui:ch clerics and religious supported themselves by manual labor, applying themselves to trades of various kinds. The Church, therefore, has always held manual labor in high honor and has never considered it ber;eath the dign!ty of the~clericai or the religious s.tate, but rather recommended it as a worthy means of support for both clerics and tell: gious_. . From the very beginning, however, some of the clergy -found an easier way of supporting t.hemselves--by engag-ing in gainful trading. In itself, there is nothing wrong with gainful trading provided the price asked for the c0m- 50 MAY RELIGIOUS BUY AND SELL? modity traded or sold is not exorbitant. But the' exercise of gainful trading was beset with'm~iny dangerous practices and easily led to distractions from and neglect of the duties connected with the clerical and religious state. Hence are not surprised to find St. Paul warning Timothy: "No man being a soldier to God entangleth himself in secular business" (II Timothy 2:4). This warning 6f St. Paul became the watchword of the Church in .its legislation for-bidding clerics and r~ligious to engage in gainful trading. -For experience has proved that such occupation not only distracts and leads to a neglect of duty, but exposes clerics and religious to the dangerous spirit of cupidity and avarice with their consequent vices--fraud, perjury, injustke, and so forth. Besides from the practice of gainful trading there arises the danger of involving clerics and religious in civil lawsuits. All these possible dangers may r.esult in a serious diminution of the esteem of the faithful for the clerical and ~religious state and for the sacred.ministry. Hence the, need of a ~lear.understanding of the Church's law with regard to gainful trading as it applies, to religious.' PART I: THE LAW AND ITS MEANING In this matter there are~no special prescriptions that apply exclusively to religious, but canon 592 tells us that "all religious are bound to the common obligations of clerics listed in canons 124-142." The last of these canons, No~ 142, forbids clerics to engage in gainful trading. It reads as follows: "Clerics are forbidden to engage in lucrative industrial (negofiafio) or commercial (merccl~ura) trading, either personally or through others, either for their own advantage or for fhaf of others." Just what is fbrbidden by this cano_n? When are reli-gious and clerics said to be engaged in lucrative trading con- ~ trary to the law of the Church? No act of buying or selling comes unde~ the prohibition ADAM C. ELLIS Repiea~ for Religious against gainful 'trading, unless it contains ~four etem~nts simultaneousl~t.: (1) the object must be bought, (2) with tl'ie intention of reselling it, (3)unchanged or.changed, by hired help~ (4) at a higher price than Was paid for it. Let uk examine each of these four elements in detail. I. "'The object must be bought" .- It is not the property of the religious or cleric to begin with, hence he must acquire it in exchange for money or for some other commodity. Religious do. not violate -the law therefore when they sell the pro'dutts of their fields-- grain, fruits, vegetables. .They may likewise sell., wool~ hides, eggs, but~er, and milk produced by their herds and flocks, as well as calves, lambs, chickens, pigs, and other animals provided these are the natural produci of things ¯ already possessed. LikewiSe articles° received as gifts may ~ be sold, even at a great profit, since they were not purchased by the religious. 2. "'With the intention of reselling it'" ~ The reiigious who bu.ys an object or rawmaterials must intend, u2hen he bd~js them, to resell them later on. If this intention is not present at the time of purchase, then-his transaction does not come under the-prohibition of our_ canon. The religious who purchases a supply ofcommodi-" ~ ties for the use of his community does not intend to sell them. It may happen, however, that in the course of time some of the supplies are in danger of spoiling; or he may find that he has. purchased more than the community-needs. In either ca~e he may sell these supplies, even at a higher price than that he paid for them, because when he bought them he did not do so with the intention of r_eselling them. For the same reaso~ one may sell objects which have lost their usefulness fdr the com.rnunity,"such as furniture, raw materials, books, and other t.hings; and one may take a 52 MAY RELIGIOUS BUY AND SE~'.L~ _profit on them. It is. also allowed to invest the com- "munity funds in real estate, to buy ahouse or a-farm, and then to rent or lease it, thus assuring the community a source of regular .income. To rent or lease property which the commu.nity owns is ~not the same as selling it. This_ is merely an act of prudent administration required by canon 1523., 3 a. "'Unchanged" When an object is bought with the intention of s~lling it unchanged at a higher price, we have the most specific case of that strictly commercial trading which is positively forbidden to clerics and religious. This is never alloWed,. even tl~ough the objects bought are of a religious nature, such as rosaries, crucifixes, and prayer books. Nor may re!ig!ou~s buy real estate with the.intention of~selling it uhimproved as soon as an opportunity arises to sell it at'a higher price. Under this heading one is also forbidden to rent or teas~ property from the owner for the purpose of. immediat.ely subletting it to another party ata h.igher rental, for such a transaction is the equivalent of buying something with the intention of selling it unchanged at a higher price. ~ 3 b. "'Or changed b~t hired help'" We saw above that the Church has always held manual labor in high esteem; and spiritual leaders have ever encour-aged religiousto" employ themselves with such labor ih order to provide for their temporal needs, to avoid idleness.¯ and to make it possible for them to assist the poor and the needy. Furthermore, the Church has always allowed reli-gious to purchase materials in order to change them by their own labor and then to sell such objects at. a profit. Thus the monks of-the,desert supported themselves by wea~ing baskets, making fish nets, and the like. In the Middle Ages 53 AD!kM C~ ELI~IS / o ~ Ret~ieto /or Religious monasteries of both men.ahd ~vomen.frequently supported themselves by manual labor; the monks by cultivating their fields and caring for their herds, and then selling the prod-ucts of field and herd; or .by transforming these products into cheese, butter, wine, bread, or even by distilling.liqueurs such as the famous Chartreuse and benedictine. The nuns were famous for their fancy needle work and for their artistic production of illuminated manuscripts and books, This buying of materials and changing them by the labor of one's own hands may take many forms: grapes" may be bought, and made into Wine; silks and fine materials may be purchased and turned into precious vestments, or ¯ trousseaux. As long ~s the change is brought about by the " labor of the religious themselves, there is no ¥iolatioh of the law forbidding gaiffful trading. But the case is different when materials Which hav~ been rpeulrigchioausse dth.aerme sweolvrekse.d W orh ecnh apnagiedd l abyb ofrii irse tdts feide ltpo, cnfoiat ~b,yg teh"e. materials wfiicfi l~aoe beer~ bo~t~Tbt with a view to their sale at a profit in thei'r changed state, we have an operation which is equivalent to strictly comme~:cial trading since the religious are buying both the materials and the labor involved in making the change. This has b~en the Constant opinion of canonists; an opinion which has been upheld by many decisio.ns of the Holy See. Here are some practical examples of what is forbidden under this head: religious ma.y not buy grapes and hire 6ut-side help to mak~ them into wine; nor may they buy wool, cloth, leather, or other mate.rials, and engag.e hired help to make them into clothing, shoes, and the like with the intention of selling such products at a profit. They may not buy cattle to be pastured on rented land by fiired hell~, to be sold later at~the market price; nor may they rent land to be cultivated by fiired labor and then sell the crops at a JanuarF; 1946 MAY RI~LIGIOUS BUY AND SELLi~ profit. It is not forbidden, however, to. rent land needed to graze a herd which is owned by the religious; nor to buy cattle which will consume the surplus pasturage of land owfied by the religious. In both cases the cattle may be sold later at a just.~price. 4. "'At a higher price than was paid for it" " Here we have the final element which is required to con-stitute gainful trading forbidden to clerics and religious. This elemeni constitutes the very essence of gainful trading --the sale for pro~t. This, however, must be understood rightly. One does not necessarily make a. profit even though he sells an article at a higher price than that which. he paid for it. The ,expefises involved in the transporta-tion, storage, and.conservation of goods, the wages paid to hired, help, and any other ,ex15enses incurred are to be con~ sidered as part of the cost. An increase in the sale price because of such expenses does not constitute a real gain and consequently is not forbidden. This. clause in the, law merely forbids the sale of an article at a higher price than its complete cost, and this is true whether the article is sold unchanged or is sold after having been c.hanged by hired hands. Obvidusly then religious may sell articles and ~oods which they have purchased, provided they do so at the cost price (estimated as above explained). If-no profit is made in the transaction, it does not come under the pro-hibition of the law. This seems to be so evident that nothing more need be said about it. Thus far we have considered the four elements which constitute gainful trading forbidden to clerics and religiqus by canon 142. All"four elements must be present simul-taneoust~ t in order that the act of buying and selling come unde~r the prohibition of the law. If ang single one of them ¯ is lacking, the transaction is not forbidden. Let us now consider the remaining clauses of the canon. 55 AD~I C: ELLIS Re'uieW~for, ReHgio,,s "'Either personall~j or thr6~gh others'" Up to the time of Pope°Benedict XIV there were certain canonists and moralists who held that acleric'or.religibus, though forbidden to engage personally_in gainful trading, might do so through, others by entrustifig his money to a" layman to invest in his.obusifiess or trade. Their argument ran that in such a case the religious or cleric would not be burdened with the cares and worries of such trading.~ In practice, however,, such religious and clerics did not cease to worry about the success or failure of the business or trade in which they had invested their money; and,not infrequently" they were tempted to help the good work.along by taking an active, though perhaps a minor, part in it. H~nce they were distracted and hampered in the exercise of their clerical and religious functions. After pointingout that this had really been prohibited by his predecessors, Benedict XIV solemnly forbade clerics and religious to engage .in gainful trading even t/~rough others. Since his time, therefore, it has been prghibited to clerics and religious to be even part owners of any strictly indust.rial or commercial enterprise, though the busihess or industry was conducted entirely by laymen. "For their own advantage or for that of other~'" ¯ This clause was put into the law by Urban VIII and, emphasized .by Clement IX in,the seventeenth century w.hen missionaries began to engage in gainful trading not for their own benefit but for the support of their missions. In individual cas~s of great rieed the Holy-See gave permis-sion for Such trading in favor of mission work; but at the same time the fact was always emphasized that the law for-bade such trading even for the sake of charity towards others. Hence it should be kept in mind that gainful trading may not be carried on.by clerics or religious, no matter how 56- January/, 1946 MAY RELIGIOUS BUY.AND SELL~? worthy the cause may be. to-which the. profits of such trading are devoted. ¯ In concluding this first part it may be well to call atten-tion to the fact that this legislation binds both religious communities as a~ whole and individual religious with~ respect to their personal property. PART II: SOME MODERN PROBLEMS, IN BUYING AND SELLING Hav!ng anaiyzed the notion of what precisely is for-bidden by the law of the Church with. regard to gainful t.rading on the part. of clerics and religious, let us proceed to apply the law to some probl~erns which a~e peculiar~ to our modern e~onomy. Bookstor,es Most bo~irding schoolg and many day schools conducted by religious have a book store in which textbooks, station-ery, and sundries of various kinds are sold to the students. Originally, and in many cases even today, the primary pur-pose of such a store was not to make money, but rather, to serve the needs and the convenience of the st'udents. Fre-quently enough the Catholic textbooks used in schools can-not be purchased elsewhere. Agai'n, for purposes of dis-cipline and training, it is desirable that uniform stationery be used for class exercises, tests, homework, book reports, and the like. If each pupil purchased his stationery atria different store, such uniformity would be impossible. Hence "the need, or at least the convenience, of.~he school bookstore. What is the actual practice .with regard to such. stores? ,Usually books, stationery, and sundries are bought at. wholesale and sold at retail. ~ When this is done, .we have a perfect example of gainful trading forbidden to religious. The.articles arebought with. the intention of selling them unchanged at~.a higher~ price. As we have said above, the 57 ADAM C, .ELL[S ': ~:-~.: "i~:° 7 ;; ~ RevieW=.[o~ Religid£~s primary purpose" of th~ st,ore.is, not t.o.make profit but to meet the needs and" the convenience of the student body. Still, . the , law is violated unless:the elemeiit.of.profit is :eliminated. "Thismay be.done ifi. 5ne.of two ways : :either sell atcost price,., or. give the profits back to the students. Let us consider each method. " " " " ¯ To sell at.cost price has its .drawbacks. In certain cases the firms publishing school, books :~nsist tha~ a minimum rf.tail pr.ice,be charged. Then too, it is difficult at times to determine. [he exa~t cost of .a Sing!e. article. One must take 'into consideration attendant e.xP.enses--!ight, .heat, kental .ofspace occupied by the bo0kstore;.transportati0n chargds, a juit recompense;f0~dlerki, whether:'theybe extefns whb. work for a salary or students who receive fr~e textbooks and stationery for their services.Then there is the item of ,itoss due to deffi:ioration of goods which' become shoi3worn and must ibe sold.at a bargain, as well 'as books" left over which cannot be returnedto the publishe~,or which, if 'traded in, bring'a lower price than that originally paid: All these itemsshould be taken into consideratioh when "the c'o~t price"is put upon books and stationery. , . ¯ ~A far simpler arid more satisfactory solution of the problem may be found by returning the profits to the stu-dents- giving them something to which they are not entitled by reason of their tuition fees. Thus the profits may be used to supply the library with extra books and magazines which normally v~ould not be purchased; to provide extra lectures and performances of both a literary and entertaining character; to give the Students extra recrea- ~.tional facilities:' for example, additional recreation Or lounge rooms, or needed athletic equipment.: In this way the profits are, returned to .th~ students, whose purchases have created them. Thereligious do not ieceive any of thd profits; hence the law of the Chuieh is observed. 58 danuarg, 1946 MAY RELIGIOUS BUY AND SELL? A thirdsolution would be to turn the bookstore.over to the students: cooperative, if there be one in the school., Lunchrooms or Cafeterias ,Here again the motive for conducting these enterprises in a school is not primarily to make money but to promote discipline and to meet theconvenience of the student body. These activities differ from running a book store inasmuch as materials are purchased and changed before being sold at a higher price. If this change is effected by the religious themselves, they may retain any resulting profits. Usually, however, ~such changes as cooking .food, preparation of lunches, making sandwiches, and so forth are effected by hired help, wl~ether by outsiders or by part-time student help, and then the operation comes within the prohibition ~of the Code. Here again the solution of the problem lies~ . either in selling meals and lunches at cost price, which'is difficult to estimate, or in returning the profits to the stu~ dents as suggested above in regard to bookstores. The same . is .to be s~id with regard to profits derived from the sale of. candy,., ice-cream, and other edibles which are sold ¯ unchanged in lunchrooms and cafeterias. Gift Shops in Hospitals and Sanitaria Within recent years gift~ shops have made t.heir appear-ance in hospitals and sanitaria. One purpose of such shops~ is to supply visitors with a convenient opportunity to ~pur-chase a forgotten gift for the patient they are about to visit. No doubt they are also patronized by nurses and patients. .They have all the appea'rances of sale for profit that any other store has; and the pro.fits may not be kept by the reli-gious who conduct the hospitals. The best solution of the prOblem perhaps would be to rent out the concession to a lhy person who would take both the risks and th~ profits in return for a reas.onable.rental charge. If no ~uch person o 59 ADAM C. ELLIS ~ , Reoiew for ReligioUs. "can be found, the profits should be turned back to the pur-chasers ~in ~ome Shape' or form. Since these are, casual visi-" 'tors for the most part, this may be difficult. A certain amount might be used to make the visitors' "waiting rooms .m.ore comfortable; the rest might be devoted to increased :and ~improxied recreational facilities forconvalescent pa-tients. Sale of Religious Articles " Under normal circumstances there is no reason for reli-gious to engage in the sale of rel~gio.us articles. On special. occasions, however, such as parish missions and school 9r alumni retreats, it may be desirable too have .such good.s available for purchase. Usually,, they are obtained from a general supply house at wholesale prices with the p~ivilege of returning what has not been disposed of. Each indi- ¯ vidual article is marked with the retail p, rice. Here again we have a clear case.of buying and selling forbidden by the Church to clerics and religious. The only proper, way to ~onduct such sales is to turn over the entire transaction a ~church or school society, and allow it to keep the ~rofits. Neither clerics nor religious may share in them. Sisters who ~upply the needs of a. First Communion class (veils, wreaths, prayer books, rosaries, and similar objects) should 'sell. them to the c~ildren at cost price. "In country parishes pious Catholics who wish to obtain religious articles frequently ask the priest or the Sisters to procure them. In this case there is no buying at wholesale and selling ~it ret,ail, since there.is question usually of a single article a rosary, a crucifix, a prayer-book. T-he Sisters may purchase such an article from a Catholic supply hbuse and charge the retail price. The small, discount give.n single article may be considered as ~ gift to the religious: as a matter" of fact, it will .scarcely compensate them for carriage charges and'stamps" expended. 60 J~_r~uarg, 1946 ]~tAY RELIGIOUS BUY AND SELL.7 ¯ i . Articles Made in Trade and Industrial SChools " The modern religigus apostolate includes trade schools f6r poor boys and industrialschools for poor girls. In these schools boys are taught a trade, girls are instructed in'needle~ wc;rk and domestic science. Their first efforts will hardly ~.find purchasers; bu~ they learn rapidly, and articles, and goodsmade by them are sold by the institutio~i. Here we seem. tohave a form of industrg--materials are bought and ¯ changed by outside help. IS' it forbidden to sell such goods at a profit? No, it is not. First of all, the principal pur-pose of such schools is to instruct the pupils, to teach them an art Ora trade; and this cannot be done without practical work. It is not the primary intention, therefore, to sell the materials purchased ~nd changed by hired help at a higher price.,. Secondly, the proceeds do not go directly anti,exclu-sively .to the religious in charge,of the school, but are used to provide board and lodging for the pupils and fre-quently to pay the salaries of experienced lay persons-~ who act as instructors. ~rh~tever surplus may be left over should, be shared With the pupils who are entitled to some recompense for their labors. A final consideration which keeps the transaction from coming under the ban of.ga.inful trading is the fact that, at Ieast in a boarding institution, these pup!Is are not, strictly speakihg, hired help; they,may be considered as part of the religious family. . Printing and Publishing Books A religious or cleric is always allowed to print (or have p~inted) and sell at a profit whatever he has, written himself (Holy Office, June.10, 1846). Here he is not buying anything,, but he himself supplies the object which is changed and sold--his own literary composition. B.ut,. a religious is not allow.ed tO buy.books written and published by others and Sell them at a profit. This latter practice is clearly forbidden by the law. 61 ADAM C[ ELLIS '. ' '.: - ,~" ? ' ~. Ret~ieto for Religio~s M~g religious own and operate a prin, ting.pres~?. ( 1 ) If the religious run the press themselves and do all. the work, they may printand still not only books and writings of the m~mbers of their institute, but .also books written bY others who are not members. (2) If the religious merely. own-and direct the press and the' work is done by hired help, they" mayprint all :works w~itten.l~y members of their institute but nothing else unless they.have a special indult from the H61y See: nor may 'they engage in ordinary com-mercial printing. -In this second case,, they. may print reli-gious reviews, magazines, .journals,other. forms of xeligious literature destined for the spread, of the faith, and school ¯ books which cannot be obtained elsewhere--provided that ¯ no profit is made. Of coursea reasonable amount of income may be taken gradually to pay for .installation, "amortiza-tion of debt, .superintendence, and so forth. Rental.6f Space ~or Vending Machines Many institutiong, hospitals' especially, find it very conv

Issue 47.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1988. ; A Spirituality of Suffering Issues and .Trends--1987 Advance Health-Care Directives Evaluating Chapters Volume 47 Number,2 March/April 1988 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 edito-rial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. REvmw FOR REL=G=OUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1988 by REvmw FOR RELiGiOUS. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $12.00 a year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add $5.00 per year; for airmail, add $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. 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Charism as E powerment to Discerff, to, De.cide,, tO Act, to Assess : F:intan D: Sheeran, SS.CC:. ' ~, Fathbr Fint~n D. 'Sheei'an'is a priest ih the" Congregation of, the Sacred Hearts. He works p~'esently as a.consultant.to religious communities and resides in his Congre-gatio, n's formatjo.,.n.~.c.ommunity, in Ch,everly, ,Ma.ryland: This is ,hi~s first contribution to our pages. He may:be addressed. ~ at Damien House; 6013 Inwood Stre~et;,. Chev-. erl~, Maryland 20785. harles de.,Gaulle.is supposed to have puzzled ove.r the possibility of.gov-erning a people who had more,t~.an three hundred diffeyent cheeses. Per-haps Church authoritie~s~are affli.cted with somewhat similar doubts as they cpntemplate the present state,of religiou~s life .and,especially the pre-sent state,of study and writing 9.n,the re.ligious life. ~Prior .to the CQuncil, a narrowly ju.ridic and0institutional~ u~nderstanding ~i'nd interpretation of re,ligious life0dominated practi.caily all writing and reflection on the sub-ject and there was consider~ible:hom.og.eneity in the field, even by pre-conciliar~ standards. Since the Council, there has been.a rich and continu-i, ng outpouring of reflection as atte,mpts have been and go on being made to understand and to.reinterpret,the religious life from various~vantage pojn~ts including in the light of.dev~eloping experience. The author of~one such ,r.ecent .i~nterpretatip.n, ,Sar~dra .Schnei.ders,. ob.serves about .this, "What a).l~ of t.hese attempts have demonstrated is the richness of the phe-nomenon of religious life and,.the,fecun~dity of approachi.ng its mean!ng fnraotemd b_trhoea dtheero.p.looignyt~s ooff 'rveileiwgi othuasn l itfhee a dt olegamsat tsiicn jcuer itdhiec aCl oounnec tihl.aotf h ~arde ndto. m~iz One fairl3~ prominent feature of all, of this.reflection has been the con-siderable ¯ attention given to charism the charism of, religious life, the charism of founders, the charism of particular congregations. This atten- 161 Review for Religious, March-APr~ il 1988 tion has included reflection by religious themselves, u~sually in a pastor-~ ally oriented way, as an element of such enterprises as rewriting consti-tutions, establishing apostolic criteria or mission statements and so on. Then, forthe first time, there have been statements on charism in offi-cial Church documents. These have been well noted. Evangelica Tes-tificatio speaks of the charism of founders (n. I I ) and Mutuae Relationes of the chai'ism of particular congregations (nn. I l, 12). Finally, charism has been touched on, to a greater or lesser degree, by practically every t.heologian writing comprehensively about the religious life since Vati-can II.2 Among theologian~ none has given more particular attention to the nature and role of charism in religious life than Tillard in line with his strong accent on the religious life as the "following of Christ." I will touch briefly on some of his reflections on charism referring in par-ticular to his There Are Charisms and Charisms.3 What I wish to speak about in this pres.ent article is Charism from a dynamic or "functional" perspective rather than from the point ofview of '~'content," meahing ho~ a charism is a particular Gospel orientation with certain evangelical accents and nuances. I am concerned rather with how a charism "func-tions" if one can speak in such a way, in the ongoing life of a congrega-tion, how it can be a source of life, of unity and of dynamic newness. A religious congregation is born of a Personal and particular experi-ence of Christ and his Spirit, a charismatic experience in the sense that it is the Spirit alone who initiates the encounter that leads to such a re-alization. ".the charism~of the religious life, far from being an im-pulse born of flesh and blood . ~. is the fruit of the Holy Spirit." (Evangelica Testifi~atio n. 11). "The 'charism ~f the founders' (ET n. 11) .appears as 'an experience of the Spirit'." (Mutuae Relationes n. 11). The person is ~eized by the Spirit. To iliuminate this experienc,e Til-lard turns to the New Testament narratives of apostolic vocation and re-sponse. 4 It is Jesus who invites; it is he;who takes the initiative, filling the life of the person ~ind leading them to the service of the kingdom. This divine initiative d0e~ not at :all depend upon any moral excellence on the part of the humarl partner in the encounter nor does it of itself im-mediately :add anything to their moral stature. (This point has larger im-plications with which we are not immediately concerned here with ref-erence to the truth that vocation to the religious life is in no way a call to any "higher" degree or form of holiness than the call of every Chris-tian in virtue of baptism.) It is an encounter with the Risen Lord which reorients the persoh's life creating a mysterious enthusiasm in which ex-planation for the otherwise inexplicably radical response is rooted. As Charism as Empowerment / 16~$ John Lozano remarks, commenting on the call of the apostles: ¯ . .They leave e~,erything--family and occupation--and go off with him. As an event in a chronicle, it would not make any sense. But it is not just any "unknown man" who passes through the account . The center of it all is relationship with Christ, understood, of cou~:se, in a post-resurrecti~on sense, when these accounts were shaped as an ex-pression of faith in theoSon of God.5 For the founder and for every religious, as for the apostles, this fol-lowing of Christ originates in an encounter'which is "charismatic"--it is of Christ and his Spirit. At the deepest level the reason a person be-comes a founder (or a member) of a religious congregation is ": . . not a for . . . but a because of. One does. not become a religious for something, ,with a view to something; one enters the religious life be-cause of JesUs Christ and0his ascendancy.''6 I make these remarks and references centering on the fundamental character of the charism of religious life because while my concern in this article is with the ongoing dynamism of charism in our religious com-munities this dynamism is inseparable from what charism is at root. Be-fore moving along it is also worth no~ting some of the marks of authen-ticity of the charism of a congregati6n, marks which continue to have considerable import for the life of a group. Mutuae Relationes mentions a number of the "true marks of an authentic charism" (12). One of these is a distinct quality of newness. "Every authentic charism brings an ele-ment. of real originality in the spiritual life of the Church along with fresh initiatives for action" (12). (The document does'not fail to note that this very newness may be a cause of difficult);. Most religious congregations can offer some testimony from their history to the truth of this. observa-tion. Nor need they always go back.to the archives to obtain it.) It is help-ful to look at something of the nature of this "newness." . The newness of charism is a n~wness of action and realization and not just of thoughts and words. The charism translates into pastoral life and action on behalf of God's people and not just into words and docu-ments. It is an originality which relates intimately and penetratingly to the reality of a particular time and place. Founders and foundresses are people of their own time, place, and culture, and they have a keen aware-ness of their environment. Moreover, they discover their vocation pre-cisely in the context of that environment. It is in terms of their percep-tion of reality and of their vision and articulation of a response that the newness of the Spirit is revealed. Their concrete pastoral response is a "fresh initiative for action"; ~it is new; it is other than the response (or 16~1 / Review forReligious, .March-April 1988 lack of response) customarily being made by'society .or tt~e Church to this part!cular need. In facL it frequently reveals the~pgvert~y of the percep-tion and the.ineptitude.of the response of the Church~and of society ~gener-ally. No wonder, as Mutua'e Relationes delicatel,y remarks, such re-sponses "~ay appear unseasonable to many." A further trem(ndously powerful element of the'freshness and :new-ness of c,harism is an aspect of which we are be(oming more awa~re. It is that the charism empo.wers the ,founders of religiou_s_:congregations to anticipate and to shape the,future in concretely effective~ways. Charism is, by its. very nature futtire-0riented. But it is an,orientation filled with purpose and with the power to achieve its purpose. This becomes clear when we read the histories.of our congregations in. the light of whatis for u~ arelatively recent perception: that history procee~ds, from, the choices, decisions and actidns 9f individuals'and particularly of groups, organized groups,of all osorts--politic'alo parties,, unions, corporations, churches, and so forth. Social realities are, the result, of human choices and decisions made in the context of economic, social,.political alterna-- tires and not simply the product~ of blind 'processes. and intractable natu-ral. forces. These actions ot~ individuals and groups create structures and systems 'whiCh in turn condition and limit our perception and options. The Shape of our society is chosen. The choi(es and action of the Church and its commuhities"fall within this complex. A~social history of eight-eenth- and nineteenth-century Europe."would surely show that society~as it was then constituted required .and secured the existence of large masses of illiierate poor in order to maintain itself as it actually was. When in-spired women and men commiited themselves to creating religious con, gregations who would,educate and care for the. illiterate poor, they did much ~more than perform an immediate work of mercy~--they became ef-fective ~gent.s of social transformation. They anticipated and shaped an alternate, future, a "new" future. The "newness" which has charism as its source is dynamic and creative; it "renews the face of the earth," "In realit.y, the charism of the religious life . . is the fruit of the Holy Spirit, who is always at work within the Church.'. It is precisely here that the dynamism pr.oper.to each religious.famil3) finds its origin" (ET, 11). My concern with charism ~is exactly with the dynamism proper to religious congregations not simply as regards their origins but more as regards their ongoing life and mission. Again the actual experience of the foundersand foundresses is illuminating. Orie significant practi, cal outcome o~f~a renewed .focus on~ charism in many congregatiQns has been the serious study given to the lives of the founders anti, also in some charism as Empowerment / 165 instances to congregations" initial or "'primitive" commt~nities. These studies have been motivat(d by a~desire to rediscover th~ originating his-tory of the community as it really was and especially to know the persoh oLthe founder or foundress freed from the m3~ths and apocrypha which had often accumulated over years of neglect of critical history. Almost invariably, the result has been someth.ing like the restoration or,rediscov-ery of the work of Michaelangelo in the Sistine Chapel. Anyone who has had the opportunity to be present while the work of restoration in' the Chapel has been going on has to have been powerfully impressed by see-ing the ~"old" and the. "new" side by side. From behind the dust and debris of years thereoemerges into the light astonishingly rich and pow-erful portraits, far more striking and iml6ressive than the painting that had been accepted as authentic for years. Similarly, the women and men with whom we come into contact in recent studies of foundress~s and foun-ders ~re~p.eople'of'vividly living faith, of prophetic imagination and origi-nality; they are deeply human people with 'a'great stor~e of practicality arid common sense; men and women who were wholly, given to the Church'e~,en as they'had the insight and courage to name its needs and to confront its resistan~'eg.7 What had passed for authentic portraits had frequently~obscured a more~brilliant reality. Because of the ~i+ailability of many such Studies~ it is also possible to see, in very rough outline certainly, but perhii~ps more clearly than be-fore, something of a c6ifirhon pattern' of'movi~ment marking these jour-neys that culminate in the foundation of ~ congregation. What we are lo6k-ing at is the historical realization of charisms, their taking on concrete form and incarnation in real people, real groups. I beliexie that there is a movem6nt'inv01ved which has a typical~ rhythm, one marked by dis-tinct phases or "moments." There is an initial moment of sear6h~iSt dis: cernment with regard to the'authenticity of the call tO move in the di~'ec-tion of commencing a project; there i~ a moment of definite ch6ice 'or decision; there is a rn'oment.of action and finally a moment of assessment or evaluation. The word "moment" could be misleading. While deci-sion or choice is always in itself a m~tter of a moment'whatever the prece-dents, the actual history of ]~oundations shows clearly that the other so-called moments can be a matter of a Io,ng time, many years even; or of a relatively short period. It'varies greatly from one founder or foundress to another but these moments as such are, I believe, discernible in their histories. Obviously these moments are0quite ordinary in the sense that th~ey represent the elements of any careful decision-making and action process; in that sense they are to be expected,. Our interest in,them, how- 166 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 ever, is in how in fact they take on a distinctively "charismatic" char-acter, how they embody the "functional dynamics" of charism, how in this sense they. are utterly.di.,stinctive. . The moment of search or discernment is that period when the per-son begins to be aware of being called by God in a special way but as yet lacks assurance about this. They wonder, pray: seek counsel. Clearly there are instances where this moment stretched on for years, where the interval between the first intuition and the moment of decision was con-siderable. The time of search is followed by a moment of decision. The person now sets aside all doubts about their call and embraces the invitation of the Lord wholeheartedly and without reserve. Choice is made and com-plete commitment. One way that this new and profound option is mani-fested in the life of the person concerned i.s by an important change in their language. A confident assurance that their inspiration is from God, prev!ously absent, now marks their expression. What in other circum-stances might be regarded as simply pious phrases or even trite expres-sions take on a clear and undeniable authority and power. Such phrases as, "This is God's will" or "This is the will of ~Divine Providence" or "This is God's work" are now used in reference to their efforts. There is a new transparency of purpose; a clear~, simple and confident assurance marks their speech, as indeed a great courage,° freedom and enthusiasm marks their conduct, about the enterprise. These very quali-ties are, without doubt, key to their capacity to attract others to join them. The third moment is.the moment of actign, of doing the thing that they are called to do, gathering people together in a spirit of mission. The moment of decision and the moment of action are not the same. There c~an be instances where the decision has indeed been made but ac-tion is delayed. In the history of the foundation of my own congregation there is an example of the founder making a decision to commit himself to the project of foundation and then delaying to act on the decision. In the event he felt himself to be called to account by the Lord and repented of his delay. ~. The charism of founding a congregation comes to fruition and real-ity only when the group actually, exists and from,the beginning the un-folding of the project in fact will always involve the unforeseen and un-foreseeable. It may be better not to think of the charis.m of a founder as separated from fits realization in the original group. In a sense the foun-der or foundress must wait to 'see what God has wrought but there is ai- Charism as Empowerment / 167 ways an intuition and sense of what the new community must~be which is key to judgment on its development. While it is never a question of checking against a preexisting blueprint, there is a need to assess and to assure fidelity to the inspiration which called it into being. This moment has parti(ular significance for the founder and for the primitive commu-nity but it is a moment which must continue as long as the community endures. So indeed must all of these moments in their own way. They comprise the charism in action, the "dynamism proper to each religious family." What I wish to suggest now is that this same rhythm, these same mo-ments must continue to mark the "functional dynamics" of the charism as it exists and is exercised in a congregation. Mutuae Relationes (11) speaks of.the charism of the founders which ".hppears as 'an expe-rience of the Spirit' transmitted to their followers to be lived by them, to be preserved, deepened and constantly, developed in harmony with the Body of Christ continually in a process of growth." The charism enables" the group to search and discern what it must be and do, what must be its way of life and of pastoral action in response to the world in which it finds itselfand to do this with a certain perspective, a certain orienta-tion and point of view, a particular spirit. ~ The implication is that the group must actively.commit itself as a group to such search and discernment evdn as the founder or foundress did. It is a search by the group in such fashion that if must guard and foster that level of unity which alone makes corporate search possible. This search in turn deepens and strengthens the real unity of the group. A province, for example, needs to identify and tO sustain the processes and structures which make a group or corporate reflection and search pos-sible as a province in a stable rather than a merely elbisodic manner: Lead-ers need to'know how to promote and foster such processes of reflection and the structures they require. The charism of a group is riot "auto-matic" nor does it function in any magical way. It can remain virtually inoperative for want of sufficient cohesion within the group or for lack of sustained 6ommunal processes. The charism enables the group to search out what it must be and do and to what it must commit itself in the power of the Spirit, animated by precisely those attitudes and values which constitute the "content'" of the charism, meaning that particular Gospel orientation or accent which characterizes every charism. The grbup is enabled to make judgments which are inspired by the same spirit which animated the founding vision. More, they can experience a confi-dence in their capacity for authentic and profoundly religious newness 161~ / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 in their.:pastoral responses. As with the founder 9r f0undress, it is Jesus who in~,ites;.it is he who takes the init!ative.leading us in. service to the kingdom in,this time and this place. Nor is that initiative~depe_ndent on any spl.endid historic achievement b.y the congregation orieven on ;the measure of its present, resources: But process and structure are necess~ary. The processless,~ s~ructure!ess~co.ngregation or.province is a mirage, Which is not to say, ho.wever, that the processes and structures must.be t.his.or, that~type, an.d even less that there i~s only one acceptable _form. While the cultivation and sustenance of process and structure make~ par~ ticular demands on,!eadership, it is also one,area.where the real mean-i. ng o.f" membership"~_ is tested. Real living commitment, to the commu-nity demandsoand is .revealed in a real investment of time, energy and presence in. its pro.cesses and structur.e~. C, ommitm~nt ,to the,"spjrit of the. cgngregation. ," while h.a.ving no time for its. process.es, is commit-ment. to the dance w~hile disdaining the steps; it becomes increasingly, ethe-real. ~ ~. ¯ . ~., ~- .- .~ ~ Secondly,, the .charism enables a group to. make decisions and choices whic_h ar~e faithful expressions of the charism oitself. It is a.grace which leads to and-enables choices made for the sake of the kingd0m,and bear-ing the mark of a certain spirit and orientation. Some groups find it prac-tically impossible~ to make real decisi0.ns and diffiRult choices. People go through .the for.ms and moti0ns~of, decision-makin~g, 9t. chapte.rs ,for ex-a. rnple., only.to, discover in time that no real commitment had been gen-erated and that implementation is_ unlikely or impossi.ble.There had,been only the,~.utward app~earance.of dec.!sion. It is.not a questiQn of .bad faith but.of processes in, adequate to the challenge. Of eyoking commitment at deep level. One of the dynamic ':,fu.nctions" of charism is to empow~er and enable the group to truly choose and gen~uinelydecide; to risk, to surrender, .to be converted. At a time when all of our, congregation~.s.ar~e. confronted~ wit.h, chali,.en.ging choices of serious consequence,, this is, an area where we read.ily experience.both the neeod that, charism play its em-powering ¯ role and tha!0we be open. to .it. -The charism further enables the group,to act and to act corporately. This means that the charism enables in the.group that level of, shared per-ception and vision, of shared aspiration and intent, w, ithout which cor-porate choice and action are impossible. And it empower.s, apos.tolic 9c-tion. "Corporat.e action" js not a .question of everybody, doing the same thing but rather that the members.of t.he group act~by intent in .the~iight of a shared vision of, direction which can give uni.ty and .c.oherenceto quite varied _ministries. For example, a group .may-have achieved a Charism as.Empowerment / 1169 shared understanding of.what '.'evangelization" means in this particu, lar place and time and, though in the.service of that vision:the members. pursfie quite diverse ministries, they are aware that they pursuea com-mon goal,. On the contrary it can happen that people exercise th'e same ministry (even hll te~iching in the'same school; for example) withotit hav-ing any shared visionOf what, they are doing or even having quite 6p-posed perceptions of ~hat it is that.they are about. " ' ~ Finally the charism enables th~ "group to assess its decisions add choices~ i!,s orier~tati~ons and actions in terms of fidelity to th~ founding ifispiratio~i and ~esp~si.veness to current needs. I re~eat here without. ~ilab~ratii~n ~th~t all Of this does not happen aiatomatically. It demands susz' tained effd~t I~y the~r~tip p~ec.i~sely, as a group ~r~d it is ~,i~rtually !n~pos'- sible without having in pla.,Ce;oin a stable way, those processes and struc-tures which ~ak~e bngoin~or~orate rei'lection,~choice 'and'~actiofi the'nor-m'al way Of life of the group~.°These 'processes and structures will vary, greatly from gr6up~°to group depending on their h.~story and trad~tlon~s,. their niamb~rs, ~g~ographical dispersion, and so forth.- I must point Out that while i tiavetried in thi~ ~irticqb to k6ep the "c6n-tent'" of charism and°its' "dyna~aic functi~_.n" separate, in th'~ end this is, of cgurs6, impossible and it'seems more especially so now in these time's thah ever. The "functioning of a religious congregation ~s ~n-s'eparabl~ .from its id~n~ti.ty, 'fro~ the radical meaning of its ~li~;e in°the Chu~'~h "/~ffci just as the f'6under ~nd (o'undress discovered their v~ocation , . .~ ~,; ~ - _ , . ~ o , o "~ ~ . : . - and ~ts meamng and shaped what they d~d and how'they d~d ~t ~n the con-text df their envir6nment, so do we. A sh~arp aware~ness of the i'6ality of our world and of. our place in it is as much a par~ of out vocation's iri-" gredi~nts ~is it was that 6f our fo'u'fiders ~nd foundres'ses. And we have avail~ble to us by God;S gift~,inst~:uha'ents and r~6ans for awareness; for takir~ cri{icai dista~e and for critic~ii~nalysis whicl~ th'.ey did riot. Tti~se are means which can enhance our capacity for pt:ophEtic dis~ernmeni, choice and.action,, means~which are immeasurably deepened and sharp-ened by the charismatic gifts that root the life'of.the congregation. I~'wouli:l conclude with a brief comment on the relationship between the charism of a religious congregation and the place of the c6ngrega-tion in t~ local ChUrch. The first obedience owed by every religi6us ~con-gregati'oia tc~ tile Church isto be faithfully itself. As a ~ift' given by the Spirit io the Churcl~'a congi'~gati6n remaihs "useful" to the extent that it remains faithful to its charism. If it is authentic, this ~lways'r~eans deeper ~olidafity with the olife and' ministry of the Church.This deeper solidarity is not just a matter of rendering more services or of undiscrimi- 170 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 nated availability. Rather it is a matter of living and acting as a congre-gation in the Church more and more in virtue of the charism. "The re-ligious life is a state within the Church, not just in the sense that it op-erates within the Church, receives grace from the Church and is legally sanctioned by the Church, but in the sense that it shares in a.special way in the mystery of the Church, is one of her organs through which, the Chi~rch perfects her own life."8 The charism is the first medium of our solidarity with the Church as a congregation. And so we bring to the lo-cal Church, for example, not only ministers and services, but a particu-lar point of View, a particular capacity for discernment needed by the Church,~a. capacity for choices, actions~, assessments, illuminated by a definite Gospel inspiration. Solidarity with the Church, in turn, evokes and animates ih~e~charism of a congregation. A congregation can therefore be profoundly obedient to its charism and to the Church to the degree that it is integrated in the life of the Church. Where the local Church strives to be a Church which integrates all of its m~mbers in its life and mission, in its discernment and decision-making, it gre.atly facilitates the deepest obedience of religious congre-gations. Where the local Church integr.ates all of its members in a search for God's ,will for his Church, in choosing direction for its mission and in implementing, its decision~, in such a Church, the charism of the reli-gious congrega[ion, a gift given for the Church, will grow to full stat-ure. Such obedience must never be substituted by a mere rendering of services in an undisce,,rned way even---or especially when there is much regi~rd for service and little appreciation of the meaning of charism and of its role in the Church. I offer here a brief ~uote from Bishoia Stanley Schlarman of Dodge City. In January o~" thins year' I~e wrote a pastoral letter to his people in which he reflected on religious life in the light of the dialogue with the religious of his diocese. , Furthermpre because religious become even more skilled in searching out God's will together, they can initiate new ways of answering the needs of the times, even taking risks, when needed on behalf of the poor and oppressed . In the light of these reflections I want to invite each person in our dibc~san family into a Trinity experience of community through knbwl-edge and love, dialogue and respect, and the mutual s6pport of one an-other's vocation.9 For religious that is an invitation to charismatic life, dynamism and newness. Charism as Empowerment / 17'1 NOTES ~ Sandra M. Schneiders, New Wineskins, (New York: Paulist Press, 1986) p. 28. 2 For a very useful survey of writing on charism see M. Midali, "Contemporary Theo-logical Trends in The Charism of Religious Life: A Gift of the Spirit to Church and World" USG. (Rome, 1981). 3 j. M. R. Tillard, There Are Charisms and Charisms, trans. O. Prendergast, (Brus-sels, Lumen Vitae, 1977). '* lbid, p. 41 ft. 5 John M. Lozano, Life As Parable (New York: Paulist Press, 1986) p. 28. 6 j. M. R. Tillard, op. cit., p. 56. 7 Francis J. Maioney, Disciples and Prophets, (New York: Crossroad, 1986) pp. 161- 2. Maloney stresses especially the prophetic dimension of religious life and of the role of founders and foundresses. 8 Friedrich Wulf, Decree on the Ai~propriate Renewal of Religious Life: Commen-tary on'the Documents of Vatican II, Vol. !I (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968) pp. 669-70. 9 Bishop Stanley Schlarman, "Reflections on a Dialogue With Religious," Origins, March 5, 1987, pp. 669-70. ApostOlate of the Moment Frank Quinlivan, C.S.C. Father Quinlivan,is director of, his novitiate and,has served as a missionary. He may be addressed at Holy Cross Novitiate; P.O. Box 749;,Cascade, Colorado 80809. ~kctive religious life has a rootlessness to it. Religious are a truly pilgrim people. We move on. We are seldom anywhere long enough to put down deep and permanent roots. We enter.into the lives of others and they en-ter our lives, but we pass through each other's lives. It is not uncommon for us to long for more "normalcy" in our lives--what we see as some permanence and stability, a place to pitch our tent for more than a season, a set of relationships which endure. Min-istry today, however, seldom affords us this. Even those whose ministry allows them to be in one place for an ex-tended period of time still find a certain rootlessness because in our highly mobile and nuclear society the people ai'ound us move on. Hos-pitals and schools have a built-in turnover of people. Today urban par-ishes see a large and continuous flow of people in and out. The pace of change is rapid. Perhaps most disconcerting of all is to look back and see that we have left few, if any, permanent marks behind us. So many years and so much effort leave little to show. The things we began, the work we did has ceased to exist or else has been greatly altered. The lives we touched have moved on and changed. We quite literally "lose track." We enter into many lives. That is what ministry is. We enter into people's lives in significant ways. We are there in a special way, invited into the hearts and consciences of people in a moment of pain, of joy, of growth or healing. But where are those people now? Maybe we still get Christmas cards from a few of them. 172 Apostolate of the, Moment / 173 ¯ ' 'Did our ministry make a difference a long-term, lasting differefice? Sometimes we may know, but'usually we.don'-t., In-an effort to p¢ofessionalize our ministry we have learned to do a great deal of lo'ng-ran~e planning and goal setting, of clarification bf ob- ¯ jectives and intensive evaluations. Ou~: experience of ministry, however, is" often that we ehd up walking a path that we did not envision and through areas that w~ 'have not charted. We can take the tools of management and apply them to ministry. They cfin help; 15uttheir applicati6n is ne~r perfect. If we do not lobk at ministry~as often perhaps most often unexpected, unplann+d, mo-meritai'y ~ind without measurable long-term consequences, we will be building up gomething Which can 6nly be frustrated and frustrating. It is important that we see much of ministry as an ap.ostolate of the moment. We are here now in this place with this person and it has, made a difference at this time inthis iife and that is enough. Fieeting contacts between pe~pJe where something human happens, often unplanned and impo.s'sible to follow up on, are how the history of the kipgdom and of ministry are most often written. This pers~)n was min-istered to at this moment,, l,oved, served, ,forgiven, encourage~d. There was,, a pointof huma~n~ con, tact, a sharing, a totJ~hing,, ~eemingly not sig-nificant, nor planned and, perhaps, not even remembered, but,this was the building of the_ kingdom. We move through others' lives and they thro~ugh ours, often in a.jum-ble, but the.points of intersection and meeting are the way. We,do not know, where fully ninety percent of them are-now. It is enough that their Way and our way crossed. ~ When we have aplan, be it for our lives or for only the day; we tend. to get very upset by interruptions. The in,terruptions, perhaps, are what we are meant to be doing. As'ministers we~are meant to be interrupted. ~ This is not an argument against planning and evaluation, or against efforts to make ministers "more professional: It is an argument, however, fOrothe" need to realize that ministry'does not°often ,fit into these catego-ries. It ,is possible .for us, like so many people,, to so live and work in the past or in the future, that we fail to,understand the,importance of the present moment. Yet it is in this.very moment that ministry is done.:" Our very rootlessness, as disboncerting'as it can be for us, is a key factorin our ministry. It allox;vs us to be.present this moment, the time when ministry.is done. It allows us to'be true agents,of the kingdom which is built up by many cups of cold wate~ given~in Jesus? name., 174 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 The apostolate of the moment is tied to our definition of .success. The normal definition of success hinges on things which we can point to and count, marks left behind which are permanent and observable. Ministry affords us little of this. How are we to know that weare ~uccessful min-isters, ,when. we have so little to "show"? All of us have been to funerals in our community when an elderly religious is laid to rest. We can ihink:of the countless lives he or she has touched. We can think of the thousands of points of intersection where his or her life and works touched ~nother's. Yet when they die, other than the community, there is usually no one else there.~ Most of the peo-ple they ministered to, in those special moments, are not aware of their death, do not remember the moment of ministry, do not recall even their name. Success in ministry, in our apostolate of the moment, cannot be meas-ured by conventional standards of success. Lives, may hav~ been touched profoundly, deep change~ may have occurred, but our rootlessness will mean that we will often never even know this. Jesus speaks of salt and seeds and yeast: They "are little things, seem-ingly insignificant, that effect great works, u~ually unseen, transformed into something else, hidden from notice, known only if they are lack-ing. This is'~how the success of our apostolate of~the moment must be understood. Let us attempt to plan and .to evaluate, but let us also understand our apostolate of the moment. Each human life is God-given and precious, beyond all value. Each moment of each life is precious and invaluable. That we are there in this moment is tremendously important. If there be an enduring effect or long-range consequence, we may never know. It is enough simply that we were there at that moment. A final word. Jesus tells us that he is the vine and we are the branches. When we reflect on ~his and on our rootlessness, there is much to learn. A branch does not have rootsoof its own. Separated from the vine it will die, but it is rooted in and through the vine. What weexperi-ence as rootlessness is, in truth, deeply rooted in Jesus. All ministry is his. The branches may grow in all directions; but the vine ties them to-gether and ~provides them .with root and life. The branches are often pruned and cut back so that there may be new growth in new directions, but they are neveruproote.d or cut off from the vine entirely. Much of our ministry is momentary, but its significance is eternal. Jesus told us that even a cup of cold water, given in passing, was not without lasting, even eternal significance. Apos~tolate of"the Moment / 175 It is difficult ifor us to be content with an apostolate of the moment. It would be satisfying to be able to see enduring effect and accomplish-ment. Our planning actually accounts for little of what we end up doing and there is so little visible to evaluate. It is, in the end, a matter of deep faith that we will not show up empty-handed before the Lord, but rather loaded down with a great deal of fruit despite being so rootless. Thief You kissed me - a Child of five - and stole my heart away. You called me - a girl of fourteen - and became h~y "first love." You covenanted me - a young woman - and bound me to You, eternally. O, gentle Thief, never give me away, nor ever set rile free! Claire Mahaney, R.S.C.J. Valparaiso Community 140 Valparaiso Avenue Menlo Park, California 94025 Eoaluating General and Provincial Chapters Gerald A. A~buckle, s.M. Father Arbuckle continues to give workshops on "refounding" religious life and to write for this review. His "Beyond Frontiers: The Supranational Challenge of the Gospel" appeared in the May/June 1987 isSue. His permanent mailing address is: East Asian Pastoral Institute; P.O. Box ~1815; Manila 2800; Philippines. Come now, let us talk this over, says Yahweh (Is 1.'18). People differ about the effectiveness of general and provincial chapters they attend. In the evaluations of a general chapter held recently, par-ticipants varied in'their assessment. Some were thoroughly satisfied; oth-ers felt that it was a useless experience since ~participants were not.com-mitted to implement the chapter's mission statement and decisions. Oth-ers claimed the chapter ignored'realities, while some felt that they had been manipulated by well-organized groups. Who is right? Without some objective criteria to judge the chapter by, it is impossible to even begin to answer that~question. This article is an attempt to offer sonie ~ciological and faith criteria to help readers evaluate their chapters. It is not in, any way an exhaus-tive study on how to assess the effe~tiyeness of chapters. My aim sim-ply is to answer this question: Are there certain attitudes, ways of look-ing at the world, procedural methods,, and ideologies which hinder or facilitate the work of chapt6i's? I will concentrate on general chapters, but my comments will apply with only very minor adjustments to provincial chapters. To aid in ~y analysis I will list a selection of comments by participants of general chap-ters held from 1971 to 1985 and then use them as catalysts for my own 176 Evaluating Chapters /:177 evaluatiofi of,such gath6rings. Hopefully, readers will be able to iden-tify from their own experience with several of these comments and. then be helped by my .,a.ssessment. I will proceed by defining,the nature and aims of a general chapter; by recording various comments by participants of general chapters; and then by evaluating thes~,corfihaents in lighi 6f sociological and:faith, criteria. ', Aims ~f ~en~r~i,,c]t~pters ,.~ "; ~dd~lly,° 'a general chapter, "aft a ~'ign of unit~, in charity," ~ho~u.ld be "a moment of grace and of the action of the Hbly Spirit in an insti-tute. It should be a joyful, paschal,, and ecclesial'experience which bene-fits the institute itself and also the ,whole Church.-The,general chapter is meant to renew and protect the spiritual patrimony of the institute as well as elect the highest superior ahd councilors; conduct major, matters of business, and issue norms for the whole institute.''~ There are two key emphases in this. desc~ription: the apostolic .calls to w~tness h~r6 a'ntt now and to plan for the futur6. I ffill~expI~iin briefly what ~acl~ em a~is means. In order to ffitnes~ h'ere and now, 'ihe chapter is to I~ a faith experi-ence, a cooperative action of both the Holy Si~irit ~nd the" memb~i's of the chapter. It is to be to the.Church and to the,congregation a vivid com-munity expression of,g.osl~el°charity and joy;:.comm~union will .arise out of a pro~cess bf personal a~nd .corporate convers~ign. ~ , . In planning for the~future, t.he chapter is. to,c.a, II the congregation to be accountable to the ideals of the Gospel and its charism, praising crea-tive apostolic, initiatives' and correcting aberrations since the: last chap-ter. It should establish~policies that~ relate the congregation's-charism, ap-ostolic life, and personnel resources to the ever changing pastoral needs of the People of Gbd. It is to.elect,the,highes(officer and his or her~ as-sistants on the basis of their abiliti~e~ to4ead~and inspire ~the 6ongregation to conversion, to its faith-and-justice mission, and tb the implementation of the chapter's policies and decisions.~ It should, call p.a,~icipants to com-mit themselves to lead within the~pr~ovi~ces i'fi impl~m~i~ing thee policies and decrees of the chapter. The two calls'are" complementary. 0n~ m~st not e~i~t:without the other. If all the chapter does is to formulate polici.es for the coming years, it is no different.than a commercial board of directgr~ which meets to plan and choose its executive officers. If, on the other hand, the mem-bers believe that all they have to doAs pray and live in charity and thus fail to prepare theologically and in every,,other way necessary to make sound pastoral and religious-life policies,, ~then they gravely misunder- 178 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 stand the incarnational role of the apostolic Christian and so of their con-gregation; they are running away'from serious obligations, taking refuge in a false spirituality or supernaturalism (see Lk 6~46-49). Reflections on Reality Do chapters in fact realize this twofold.call? To help readers answer this question, ~ list some evaluative comments of the participants 0f sev-eral chapters; then I attempt to assess them in tile light of the ideals for cha~ters given above. i. "No outward conflicts, but~there was too much pressure for con-sensus .in all things. The time for divisions was over, we were told. The consensus just covered over deep divisions; I "and others became in-tensely angry because of this. The chapter was not a reconciling event that it is said to have been." 2. "The c~hapter was to be a time for dialogue, yet it was riddled with conflicts. Some group said they were out to bring reality into the chap-ter. They caused conflicts all the time, refusing to listen to contrary views. We agreed on nothing." 3. "I tried to raise the important initial-formation issue, but the emo-tional reaction and pressure of the group against it was so great that I had to drop it. I was marginalized for proposing a discussion. So we strug-gle in ignorance for. six mor6 years about formation." 4. "We had a good chapter, since we stressed the discernment pro-cess, downplayed debates and the study of reports on the congregation." 5. ~'I feel unhappy with our chapter. One national group effectively stopped the discernment process. 'We don't decide things by prayer! That's pre-Vatican pie.ty,' they said." 6. "Some participants held back from sha~ring their views until they had ihe right momeni for maximum impact; they would not listen to others. I thought they used their silence as power to manipulate us." 7. "People say that there sfiould never be conflicts, but only'consensus' on issues. This puzzles me. Perhaps disceinment might'help." 8. "I feel the chapter was an experience of grace. I did not feel the under-" ~urrent of ideological pressure groups, power movements, national/ cultural lobbying, that characterized our last chapter." Evaluating Chapters 9. "There was hardheaded debate, but a spirit of listening, openness to reports of the world we must be evangelizing, an experience 0f rec-onciliation and sisterhood. I believe there was a deep conversion to the Lord in all of us. Discernment, research, and prayerful preparation helped. Decisions are being now implemented." 10. "Every now and then our chapter made self-congratulatory expres-sions or decisions that were so unreal. You would think that the whole world was waiting on every word, yearning to be led by a dynamic con-gregation, well equipped for apostolic action. We wrote a mission state-ment,- but ignored priority of apostolic needs, the insights of theologi-cal e.xperts--anything, it seems, that would have embarrassed us to face the poverty of our spiritual and human resources. We had warm, comfort-ing liturgieS. It made people feel good. What a sad, escapist experi-ence!" I I. "'We wrote many documents, including a mission statement. We felt we had accomplished much because we did a lot of writing, but the real issue of conversion remains unconfronted." 12. "I was frightened by the repeated labeling of participants as 'right-ists' or 'leftists.' If you were classed as a leftist by one vocal group, there was nothing one could do wrong in the chap~ter. Groups, especially some national groups, spoke of 'winning or losing battles,' obviously rejoicing when rivals were 'conquered.' " 13. "It was a prayerful chapter. We got to the painful issues, and made good decisions. Now, several month~ later,participants are not inter-ested in doing anything about the decisions." 14. "Two sma!l, but vocal, groups struggled to dominate or manipu-late our chapter. One group wanted by force of law to restore the status quo, the opposite group wanted.change to be,imposed by law on all of us. Both were humorless, almost fanatical." Some of these comments are optimistic, but, overall, respondents are uneasy about the effectiveness of'their chapters. Given the frequent, un-critical 'use of such value~charged sociological terms as "conflict" and "consensus," I estimate that their unease is justified. I suspect that sev-eral chapters described by participants were insensitive to how power can be manipulated, sometimes by people with immense goodwill but with little knowledge of the social sciences, in ways that are quite contrary to gospel values. Review for Religious, March-April 1988 Because of the confusion that Can exist about how a culture or group functions?internally, a, confusion evideht in the comments listed, my task is now to, ex.plain the n'ature-and function of two popular models of so-cieties: the confliCt arid ~the consensus models; this will necessitate an analysis of the strengths and weaknesses'oUsociological models in gen-eral. Also, after showing how these two models can be misused w~hen applied to the'an, al.ysis of r~li~iOus~congregations., I,shali ~xialain the role of di~ce~'nment in m~k.ing'decisions. Models of Society , - A model, o~: ideal-type, analysis denotes a~particular and popular method of sociological investigation of society. An idea.! type i~ an "ex-aggerat! on',' .of cert,/in features which tend to be present in society; once the type is constructed by ttie researcher; ~i°concrete s'ittiation can then be better understood by means of comparison with the ideal type. For ex-ample, the researcher concludes that a particu, lar society is like, or di-verges from,~the ideal type in this or that way. Ideal-types have been con-structed, for example, of capitalism, communism, bureaucracy, and pre- Vatican II religiouscongregational governments.3 In summary, an ideal type has the following qualitieS: First, it is not "ideal" ir~ an ethical way. Secondly, it is rather "ideal" in a logical sense;it is freely d~signed by the researcher in an effort to better ~om-preh~ nd reality by isolating, accehtuating or emphgsi~ing, arid artiCulat-ing the elements of a recurrent social phenomenon (bureaucracy~ for ex-ample) into an internally consistent system of relationship. Thirdly, an ideal~type in no way em.b~.~ces all details of the~rea!ity; the aim, as opted, is to emphasize or highlight "significant" recurrent social phenomena. This means that various aspects of society are not included in the model because they do, not fit its Overall purpose or focus~ Hence, to get the best possible analysis of a social situation~, it would be.important to construct several ideal types for analytical use. The response can then be integrated to give a fuller picture of the sit'uation. ~ Fourthly, ideal types are not hypotheses; they are not falsified if they are not, fully substantiated in a particular situation or even,at all, but they are research aids in the building of hypotheses, Fifthly, ideal types gen~ erally are~really scientific refinements of~ common sense. ,For example, the fact!that people use,(even correctly) the two models we describe be-low (consensus and conflict models) does not necessarily mean,~they°are trained social scientists. It ma~, mean that they instinctively.feel, for.~what-ever~ reason~ comfortable, with the emphases that .the models describe~ Moreover, some models, such as the two we are to describe, have.~be~ Evaluating. ~hapters / 181 comepopular!zed in all l~inds of literature, so that the nonexpert" readily absorbs the language particular to the models ,and thus uses it in ways that may or may not be sociologically exact. Finally, an ideal type or model is not a caricature of reality. A cari-cature, when made of a person, consists of a graphic distortion of the s~a-lient points of his or her appearance or habitual costume so as to excite amusement oro.contempt; a caric,ature of a society or. group has the same deliberate distortion.An ideal type does not distort reality, but only high-lights particular details to facilitate a better knowledge of a situation. Of course, if an ideal type is ,wrongly, used, it can well become a caricature. Consensus and Conflict Models of Society Cooperation or Consensus and conflict are two basic processes of group life. Consensus is that general agreement in thought a~d feeling which~tends to l~roduce order where the~e was disorder. Conflictu~l'i'ela-tionships c~n be~=ategorized in terms of competition (mutually opposed efforts to obtain the sa~ne objectives), rivalry (conscious competition be-tween particular groups), or~conflict (the struggle over val~es and claims to scarce resources in which the aims of the opponents are to neutralize, injure, or eliminate their rivals). Two commonly used~ideai types have been constructed~ around'these two words: consensus and conflict (see Fig-ure ~1) 4 . Inthe cQnsensus model the.assumption is that people generally agre~e on values and norms; soqial life.is.basically.stable becausecooperatipn is rewarding.A spirit, of interdependenc,e pervades the society. Conflic-tual situations do ,emerge (~r~iters on this-model then tend to speak of "strained," "otense," "rival ".or, "competitive" relationships rather than "conflictual" o.nes), but they, do not threaten the dominant, consen-sus; .conflict resolutionS°in which equilibrium or harmooy 'i~ resto~r.ed, is achi.e~ed othr.~ugh trust :~n~ di,alogue and with ~'he aid of legitimate lead-ershi. p.,5 Maj.or social change comes very siowly and .depends on signifi-cantly large shifts in a~t.itud.e, and belief. The model therefore is conser-vative 'about change; many su~ggestions for chang~e are considered unre-alistic because people hold so firmly to their existing attitudes, vaiues~ and customs. ' In.the conflict model the key characteristic is the domination of some groups~by others, and actual or.potential conflict is at the heart of all so-cial relations. If~consensus exists-it is only a.facade. Behind this mask of.harmony the powerful, including ;the legitimate authorities, in order to maintain their-positions of .influence, manipulate or oppress othi~rs through the use of coercive power. ,Change comes about when existing 112 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 Key Points I. Basic qualities 2. Social life involves is essentially and depends on or produces 3. Leadership through 4. Social systems are and tend to Figure 1. Models of Society Consensus or Integration Model no'ms/values commitments cohesive consensus, solidarity,. reciprocity, coopera-tion, dialogue legitimate authority integrated remain Conflict or Coercion Model interests inducement and coercion divisive structured conflict, op-position, exclusion, and hostility power ¯malintegrated 9nd con-tain "contradictions" change conflictual situations are further exacerbated and new groups or individu-als emerge who manage to challenge the power structures in a confron-tational manner. Adversaries in conflicts generally judge the outcomes in terms of victories and defeats, wins or losses. In brief, at the heart of the conflict model is the assumption that conflict is the indispensable force in society. Ali relationships are coloreffby' it. The model empha-sizes the role of structures in society and how the powerful can use them to their advantage, and hence emphasiz,es'that change comes about through the alteration of structures through various forms of coercion. The roots of the conflict model go back to .people like Machiavelli and Hobbes. Karl Marx helped to refine the conflict model; conflict leads to revolutionary change rather than fi~aintenance of the system and, in the end, to what Marx claimed Would be a better society. His influence in the social sciences is considerable, though supporters tod~y do not nec-essarily agree with all that he said.6 Uses and Abuses of Models of Society As pointed out above, models are human constructs that articulate emphases in society. The models help us measure particular societies or cultures; enabling us to get a better understanding of their structures and dynamics. Most social scientists today would avoid adopting exclusively either the conflict or the consensus model; depending 9.n the nature of the particular group being studied, they would draw. on the.~trengths of Evaluating Chapters both models. Cultural anthropologists, whose task it is to study in depth a cultural situation, generally feel more comfortable with the consensus rather than the conflict model; they discover that people are more apt to resist change, often vigorously,~ because it threatens their critical need for cultural identity, security, and sense of belonging. People may adopt the jargon of the conflict model and yet remain at heart most unwilling to change. The process of facilitating change is more complex than the en-couragement of conflict; that may have quite the opposite effect. Abuses of the models occur inseveral ways. (A) One way is through the unscientific and exclusive application of one or other of the models to reality. People are then blinded to wider realities and values that may significantly influence the behavior of people. For example, as regards the mainline Filipino culture, it is .unwise to apply the cohsensus model exclusively, even though most key aspects of that model are evidently present. The emphasis is on the external maintenance of smooth, inter-personal, cohesive relationships and consensus in decision, making. If the enforcing of justice endangers harmony, then justice may have to be sac-i'ificed~ However, if theconsensus model is uncritically applied to the culture, it will not bring to light the intense conflictual anger and°resent-ment that can build up within individuals, for example because human rights are being ignored. A pointcan be reached when the anger cannot be contained, and it then breaks out with a feroc!ty and intensity that can stun the.unwary observer.7 On the other hand, the exclusive use of the conflict model blinds peo-ple to the existence of values, held in common and to the attitudinal re-sistance to change that generally exists at any level. The mere change of power structures, without attitudinal change or a chaiige of values, will lead to new forms of oppression. (B) Another abuse of the models occurs through the conscious or un-conscious desire to deny uncomfortable or embarrassing realities. There is the urge in all of us to deny awkward truths about ourselves or others, for if we acknowledged their existence we would have to do something about them. (C) A.-third abuse is the turning of either model into an ideology. By ideology I here mean (I am defining it in its pejorative sense) an action-oriented understanding of the person, of history, and of the world. The understanding is dramatic; the individual identifies ~vith it, is emotion-ally and totally gripped by it; one's :personal identity is constructed around the ideology and one accepts a role within the action drama. An ideology is apt to become for its adherents a dogmatic faith, blocking out 184 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 all challenge~ to it; people believe.,in it, then they~beheve in beliex;ing in'it.8 Ideologists readily use emotion-'ch~rged'labels.ofithemselves and others, for example; "libei-als, . conservatives," . ~ rightists,"~ "left-ists," o "radicals.",' An ideology is a caricature of an ideal type of soci-ety.~ My e.xperience'is that ideologists can,,~become so fanatically con-sumed by the rightness of their cause that. humor is beyond them, most certainly~,:t~he gift. of being~able to laugh at themselv.es.9 Ideologists are blinded to anything that threatens to undermi~n.e their assumptions. Take the conflict ideologlst. Situations and people are sim-plistically categorized, fo~xample, into '~pEre.ss~rs.and t.he oppressed, so that no gray ar,~e,a in the.a, nalys.is is. perm, itted. A.nyone who .~lares to doub! the analysi.s is lqgically (and emotively) assigned to the category "oppressor." ~0 Sigilarly, the consensus ideologist will not tolerate ai~y-thing~ but "harmony,," so that even ~enuine 90nflictual sitt]ations ar.e cov-ered over.~,,. Consensus/Conflict Model Analysis and'the Church Interest in the conflict perspective ih social'relations revived~ ht least in the Ehglish-speaking 'hations, in the. 1960s: In ~r~ceding decades, the dominant" sbc°ial-science theori~'s a~d:m0del~°d'eiaicted societie's~as founded and maintained o~ consensus ar~l ~ooperatiori. Howe~ier, the po-litical upheavals~ of th~ 1960s, 'botli domestic and international; focused attent~oh;ofi~)cial coffflicts and'~h6ir r~solution~ through ye~hlore con-flicts. For example, as concern for world poverty gi'6~v, people 6~ed the cbnflict rno~l~i to'better appreciate how pbwer (~conomic, l~olit'ical, and military) ~otild be i~ed to'impose unequal'exchanges which lead toga ~vorld system ina?ked by dependency arid pb~?erty. : : ~ ~ At the same time as the conflict"fia-6del was being revitalized and re-fined in the secular world, the Church began to ekperience the impact of'the incarnational and social-justice thrust of Vatican II.'Papal social documents 'and'synodal statements reflected,this trend. Proponents of lib-eratidn theolo~gy pointed'out that the philosophy of'cohsensus was being twisted, into an ideology in South America by the powerful minority to oppress the poor. Structural poverty must be tackled in order to briffg genu-ine relief. The.bishops~-'conference at Medellin in 1968 shocked partici-pants. into an awareness of this fact, and thereafter the small ~eed of lib: eration.theoiogy'sp~routed and grew rapidly. The documents of Medellin clearly show thd powerful influence of~the conflict-model in aiding the bishops to grasp the efiormity of the injustices being experienced by their people. On the wider intbrnational scene,.,Paul VI in his~landmark 197.1 document Octogesima Adveniens and in his Ef;ang~lii Ntintiandi (30-39) . Evaluating. Chapters o.f L975.and the bishops; 1971 ,synod on Justice in the World pinpointed ~he~caus.es of. world pox~erty in terms of the sgci.ological conflict model; but cle.arly rejecte.d ~both conflict and ,~consensus ideologies. , In the late 1970s there developed among concerned pastoral workers what became.known as Structural Analysis. This is a heightened criti-cal~ iselfrawareness of. .the wgys in which we c.an be. biase.d~ oLlimite.d in 9ur own thinking by our soqial, e.conom!c, cultural, or religious-life con-text. Advocacy, for the poor is a~critique of conservative-establishment power, domination, and wealth ideology. Identification with the poor and the oppressed is pictured as a "war waged on a more or less clearly iden-tifiable enem~,. The model is essehtially a conflict one where the promo-tion of a good ~s ,~nextrlcably hnked to a fight w~th a known adversary. ~ Unfprtunately, Structural'Analys~s, when it is used by tl~e amateur so-cial scientist, can r~adily t'~:n into a conflict~ ideology and'~hus"b~ the. cause of inj~Jst'ic~rather than an ~nstrument for its'removal. There are example~ of this in the evaluative coinment~ of genei'al ~ch~l~ters gi~,i~ri above. ' ~: :" " In summary, in the main Church documents that set out evangeliz, a, tion's preferentia! option for the poor: 1. The conflict/coercion/consensus models are used as ins, t.ruments of ~ocial/power ,analy.sis. 13 ,o 2. The limitations a,nd.~the dangers of misusiog the conflict mode!,in pa~rticular are pointed out: (.A) The,model cannot embrace theotransce_~n~ de.n,t; concern for just~ice mustoembrace the fullness of the ggspelme, s.- sage: "the prophetic~proc~l.amation of a herea.fter, man's profound and definitive calling, in both cofltin~uity and dis.cgntinuity with the present situation." 14 o~ ~ (B) The model must not be turned into a violence or conflict ideol-ogy;~ 5 "the action which,[the Church] sanctions is not the struggle of one~ class agai.nst an.other !n ord.er to eliminate the foe. She does not.pro~ ~ce.e.d from a mistaken acceptance of an alleged la~ of history: . . . The~ ~Chris.t~ian :wil~l always prefer the path of dia!ogue and joint action.' ,.~6 Nor should the conflict model be turned.into an °ideology that interprets the special option for the poor as embra~cing evaong.el.ically only;one section of the population: "This option excludes no one. This is whyothe Church cannot express this option by means of re.ducti.ve sociological and ideo-logical categories which would make this preference a partis.an choice and~ a.sourc~e of conflict." ~7 0 (C) Sociological models, 0.r ideologies that use these models, do not take into account the reality of sin; efforts at attitudinal or structural 11t6 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 change that ignore our proneness to sin are d6omed to failure. The urge to dominate or neutralize one's opponents, and the culpable escape from the realities of mortality, find their causes within our desire to deny God and replace him with gods of our own making.~8 (D) True dialogue between individuals or groups is not based on the ability to dominate, but on a spirituality of powerlessness born of char-ity; charity moves us to be open to others in order to respect and listen to them. 19 iE) E~vangelizers must watch lest they use the models in an amateur, but osten.sibly scientific~ way ~ manipulate and oppress people.2° 3. The~commitment to the social-justice apostolate must come out of a deep spiritual conv6rsion nourished by pra~yer. Prayer brings us to un-derstahd, how injustice is rooted in the sinfulness and selfishness of our hearts, it is prayer which calls on th~ Spirit to create within us both the courage and the love to bring about a conversion in people's hearts and the renewal of all structures of society.2~ Understanding Discernment "Discernment" is another frequently used term in the chapter com-ments noted ~bove. Discernment is a prayerful reflection on a human situ-ation in the light of faith. I must discover and root out all the attitudes, ignorance;, and prejudices that obstruct ~y ~penness to the Holy Spirit. Hence, I turn to whatever can hell~ me sharpen my grasp of truth--to the-ology, to social sciences, to discussion. But for discernment I need more than skilled human insights. I need the openness of a converting listener of the Lord. Discernment is not so much a skill as a presence with the Lord. It is being a Mary, "who sat down at the Lord's feet and listened to him speaking" (Lk 10:38). Father Thomas Green, S.J., points out that there are three presuppo-sitions of genuine discernment in the life of a Christian. First, discern-ment assumes that a person sincerely desires:to do what the Lord wants; secondly, this desire involves an openness to what God wants without reservations. Thirdly, the discerner must know the~ Lord in love, an ex-perienced intimate knowledge of God that a converted person has espe-cially through prayer. Discernment assumes conversion or the fact that the person has responded to God's grace and abandoned himself or her-self to the Lord. As Green says, "Discernment is.a function of a lov-ing, pe~rsonal relationship to the Lord. It can normally be only as deep and as solid as that relationship itself. The true discerner must be a pray-ing, loving person."22 Evaluating Chapters The presuppositions for communaLdiscernment are the logical exten-sion of the requirements for individual discernment.23 Every person of. the community must desire God's will; there must already be that open-nes, s, that intimate union of friendship in Christ. Without these qualities, communal'and individual discernment-remain human actions or tech-niques, not movements .in faith. Only'an individual or,group that has ex-perienced "that peace of God which is so much greater than we can un-derstand," and which ought to "guard your hearts and your thoughts in Christ Jesus" (Ph 4:7), can identify what the Lord is asking. Discernment does not dispense with the need to use every human method possible--for exa~nple, sociological research, theological discus-sion-- to clarify the options that one must choos~ from. At tim6s this may require vigorous debate Or discussion. This is indispensable preparatory activity. To neglect it is to ekpect the Lord to work miracles, and'because of our laziness this he will not do. However, despite the perfection of our research, there are limits to our insights. We are relating to a God and Savior whose ways~ can be humanly inconceivable and unpredic.table; so, once the background material has been clarified, then we take it in a prayerful way, to the Lord and with him we contemplate the options. Evaluation of General ~Chapter Comments In view of the above explanation, many of the evaluative comments on several general chapters are not at all surprising. ShOrtly after the end of Vatican II, congregations initiated a series of provincial and general chapters of renewal aimed at updating legislation arid approving new con-stitutions. In the 1970s and 1980s the j.argon of ihe consensus, and espe-cially the conflict, mode~ls of analysis became increasingly popular and acceptable in secular and theological circles. Participants at congregaz tional chapters merely reflected ~hat was happening in the wider Church and society. Our formation p~ograms unfortunately had not adequat~ely prepared us in the social-gcience disciplines always to use sociologica~l or anthropological models with the needed professional caution. We have used sociological terminology, especially of the conflict model, but have frequently failed to grasp the technical ramifications of the language. In very recent years, as congregations have slipped more and more into the stage of chaos,24 religious have grown suspicious of the simplis-tic use of the conflict model and more aware of the attitudinal and spiri-tual dimensions needed i~ charige. Structural changes have not had the desired miraculous effect. Now the terms "consensus" and "discern-ment" are the "in" words though there is frequent confusion about their 188 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 meaning, as is evident in the following analysis of the chapter evalu- ¯ ations. Mis'use of tl~e Conflict Model (Reread Con~ments 2, 3, 5, ,,6, 12,~ 14) Delil~erately or otherwise~people coerced other participants. Com-ment 3 p,oints to an~,,atmosphere of subtle,.but effect!ve, coercion; the in-dividual feltemotionally pressured io withdrawoa mgtteroof considergble importance to the congregation~--initial formation. In comment 5 one na-tional group r~efuses to cooperate in the discernment process, so the only option ope.n is the ~use of power politics~ pressure grouping, wins and losses. In comment 6 some manipulate the group through orchestrated sile~nc,e.s; they will not risk shar!ng views~ntil they are in a positio,n to d~minate the g~roup with their own decisions. Christi.an mutuality.d~es np.t. ex!.s,t: In comment ~2 i.ndividuals are thor~ughgoin~g ideglogists; they openly proclaim that nothing will be done except through confhcts initi-ated by .them. MisUse~%f the Consensus Model (Comments 1, 7) In comment 1 participants Were using corisensus ideologically, though they may not have been aware of it. Obviously, they had experi-enced in the past the disruptive b,!tt, erness and failure of.the conflict ide-ology. and wanted to~ avoid it at all-costs., They the.n misunderstood the meaning of consensus. People of comment 7 are se~rc,hing to grasi~ the meaning of discernment. Misufider~.tanding of Discernn~ent (cpmments.4, 9, i3) Comment 9 ~vould suggest that a positive chapter was held; not so with .the chapters referred to in comr~efits 4 and 13. A l~'ey presupposi-tion in dis~ernmen(is, the willingness to do what God wants ~f us, no matter h~ow Oistastefql it may be. The fact that "nothingohas been d~)ne about th6 Chapter decrees" shows that this effective willingness was not present. ~, Escdpism/Denial (Comments V,~' 2,, 3;~ 4, 5, 6, 7) ~ . Ernest Becket claims that the root cause of human evil is that our "natural and inevital~ie .urge" is "to deny mortality and achieve a he-roic self-image."25 Discernment demands that we admit our mortality, our,absolute need~of God. This means f.acing ~up constantly to the reali-ties of our 'own sinfulness and our need to be dying to ourselves in order that we rise in Christ, This is painful. It attacks that which we so enjoy-- our .pride and~ self-sufficiency, ., ' ~ EvaluaiingChapters / t89 ~There are examples and hints of participants denying their own per- ,sonai and corporate mortality and thus avOiding reality, for example'; through the misuse.of conserisus and conflict models and the failure to have the openness to one another that.comes 6nly through the risk of faith. Power, as commonly understood in:the comments, is unilateral; that is, people are out to impose their influenc~ on others while cloging then~selves to the'insights of the'latter. RelationalpoWer is precisely the ability t~O listen to others as well as being available to influence the same people (see comments 2, 3).26 InSistence on conflict or c6nsensus at all costs overlooks, the fact that ultimately there can be nor worthwhile change unless it springs out of one's conversion to the Lord'~ his love, his meekness. Fine documents do not effect conversion (comment~l l')~. In response to.grace we must turn wholehe~rtedly to the Lord. No culture must ever be the norm for the Christian.-A cultu;e may or. ma3? not facilitate dialogue, but ultimately dialogue for tl~e Christian must=have its roots in faith and in imitation of Christ.'He is the exemplar of relational power, the power of mutuality and risk' in .~harity. He thtis teaches us what genuine dialogue means. Ponder how often he asks peo-pie wh~it, they wish of him. He does not tell them what hE thinks they need: "'What do ~,ou want me to do.for you?" he said to the blind man. "Master, let me see again'~' (Mk 10"51). Or take that in~ident~in which Jesus enters into dialogue with the Canaanite woman who persistently begs him to heal her daughter. She does not take no for an answer, and Jesus listens (Mr 15:21-28), just as he does with the Samar.!tan woman at the well and his perplexed follow+r.s on the rgad ,to Emmaus. Then the touching interchange on the cross itself, when Jesus in his agony listens and responds to the repentant thief. The ultimat~e~source of his gift of lis-tenir~ g is the divine/human e£change bf th( incarnation itself:"'Hi~ State was divine, yet he did not cling to his equa!ity with~God, but emptied himself to assume the condition of a slave" (Ph' 2:6-7). Conclusion " Chapters are called to be witnesses of charity to the Church and to their own congregations and to apostolically relate their ~institutes to the needs of a changing world: In order to know these needs, "participants must break through the'barriers of their own pr6judices and ignbrance. An amateurish use of the social sciences, for exampl.e, through the mis-use, of sociological models of analysis, only iincrease~ these barriers. St. Paul was never a trained social scientist, but he had a shrewd in-sight into how people could misuse power. He detested those who sought to divide the Church into exclusive, conflictual, unlistening po~er blocks "191~ / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 that aimed to dominate one another--all in the name of Christ: "What could be~more unspiritual than your slogans, 'I am for Paul' and 'I am for Apollos'?" (1 Co 3:4), That approach, he insists, traps.people and deprives them of their freedom and openness to the Spirit; it. is a "sec-ondhand, empty, rational philosophy based on the principles of this world instead of on Christ;' (Col 2:8). Paul then is condemning ideologies, or any action-oriented beliefs, which claim to legitimize the domi~nation or manipulation of people. At root, "feuds. and wrangling, jealousy, bad temper and quarrels, disagree-ments, factions . . . and similar things" are the fruit of "self-indul-gence," which "is the opposite of the Spirit, and the Spirit is totally agaipst such a thing" (Ga 5:20, 17). The sign of the converting, therefore listening, person or group is love, for "Love is always patient and kind; ~t is never jealous., never rude or selfish., not resentful . [It] delights in the truth; it is al-ways ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and .to endure whatever comes" (I Co 13:4-7). Such ~people will do all they can to discover God's will, for they take to heart the ever pressing invitation of the Lord: "Come now, let us talk this over, says Yahweh. Though.your sins are like scar-let, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool" (Is 1:18). NOTES t Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life, May 1981, par. 51. 2 See G. A. Arbuckle's Strategies for Growth in Religious Life (New York: Alba House, ! 986), pp. I 16- I 19. 3 See Max Weber, TheMeth~gdology of the Social Sciences (Glencoe: The Free Press, 1949), passim. 4'See P. S. Cohen, Modern Social Theory (London: Heinemann, 1968), p. 167. 5 See presentation of model by Talcott Parsons, The Social System (New York: The Free Press, 1949), passim. 6 See Steven Vago, Social Change (New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1980), pp. 39-44. 7 For a Japanese parallel see lan Buruma, A Japanese Mirror: Heroes and Villains of Japanese Culture (London: Jonathan Cape, 1984), pp. 219ff. 8 See Antonio B. Lambino, "Ideology, Social Change and the Christian Con-science," in Loyola Papers, Manila, 1976, nn. 7/8, pp. I If. 9 See Arbuckle, StrategieS, pp. 67-87. t0 See insights by Renato A. Ocampo and Francisco F. Claver in Pulso, Institute on Church and Social Issues, Manila, voi. I, no. I (1984), pp. 7-16, 48-63. t t John L. Seymour, "Social Analysis and Pastoral Studies: A Critical Theological Assessment," in Pastoral Sciences, vol. 4 (1985), p. 58. Evaluating Chapters / 191 12 See Joe Holland and Peter Henriot, Social Analysis: Linking Faith and Justice (Ma-ryknolh Orbis, 1984); pp. 14-44. 13 See Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Instruction on Christian Freedom and Liberation, 22 March 1986, par. 42; also Donal Dorr, Option for the Poor: A Hundred Years of Vatican Social Teaching (Maryknoih Orbis, 1983), pp. 175,244- 250. 14 Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi, 1975, par. 28. 15 Paul VI, Octogesima Adveniens, 1971, par. 28. 16 Instruction, op. cir., par. 77. ~7 lbid, par. 68. ~8 lbid, pars. 38, 39. ~9 lbid, pars. 55-57. 2o Octogesima Adveniens, pars. 38, 39. 21 Evangelii Nuntiandi, par. 15. 22 Weeds Among the Wheat: Discernment--Where Prayer and Action Meet (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1984), p. 64. 23 See John Futrell, "Communal Discernment: Reflections on Experience" in Stud-ies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, vol. 4, no. 5 (1972), passim; and Brian P. Hall and Benjamin Tonna, God's Plans for Us: A Practical Strategy for Communal Discern-ment of Spirits (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), passim. 24 See Arbuckle, Strategies, pp. 23-66. 25 Escapefr~om Evil (New York: The Free Press, 1976), p. xvii. 26 See Evelyn Woodward, "Uses of Power in Community," in Human Develop-ment, vol. 4, no. 2 (1983), pp. 27-29. The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell~ Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The ,Relevance of Life Review tO the Vowed Life James J. Magee, D.S.W. ~ ~o' Doctor Magee has, done extensive research and consultative work in the j'ield of re-tirement programs for religious women~ His last article in these pages, "Confidants Help Older Religious with Life Review," appeared in the issue of March/April 1987., He may be addressed,at the College of New Rochelle; New Rochelle, New York 10805. ¯, ~ ¯ , In response to the "graying" of their membership, many religious com-munities have begun to draw upon the reminiscences of their older mem-bers as a valued resource. Communities have sponsored groups to tape oral histories of the personalities, geographical sites, institutional crises, and developmental issues for which only the older members can give first-hand accounts. They have asked members whb are retired from their pri- ~ mary mini, str~!e~s~i'tg~.feiz.0.~d ~th.~zhaile~i'~es t,h~t iin~ar)'~.bly cbn.fro~t those who succeed them. Ttiey have, encouraged them, too,. to value the in- . creaseo ~nvo~vemento~n~4tte rewew that accompanies'aging:as occasions for healing memorie_s and di.sce~rning God's gracious intervention through-out their lives. Life review is a fo£m of reminisce.nce,~in whic,h persons recall long-forgotten incidents, dwell on them, and re6apture the emotions that origi-nally accompanied them, often while trying to convey these felt experi-ences to a listener. Thes'e.re~zollections are:usuhlly clear and vivid, ac-' companied by pleasant or uncomf6rtabl~ emotions varying in intensity. Life review increases dra~atie~ll~ in middle age and continues un-abated among older adult~':~In, life~re~,iew:ifii:li.vidfi~als reflect upon their personal history and accept responsibility for it. It is a process in which reviewers gradually r.ecpns~truct and assess their past, using their current 192 Life Review and the Vowed Life / 193 values to weigh behavior that memories progressively retum to conscious-ness. It focuses attention upon the connectedness of their: past with their current sense of themselves, evoking memories of formative experiences that influenced their personal development (Merriam, 1980). Life Review and the Daily Examen This description of life review overlaps several of the functions of the daily examen. A critical evaluation of life experiences with a goal of integrating them in an acceptance of oneself here and now is common to them both. Life review, however, is seldom a structured progression of memories. Usually it proceeds circuitously through reverie, reflection, dreams, diary or journal entries, correspondence, and storytelling. More significantly, life review enhances the fruitfulness of the daily examen by focusing upon the vowed lifestyle as a way of life that can release its members from compulsions that impede their self-actualiza-tion and intimacy with God. Like everyone who engages in life review, older religious become enmeshed in memories which join their own per-sonal history with the history of their family. They particularly recog-nize the ways in which they have mishandled in their own lives some is-sue( s) that they know various family members have mishandled over gen-erations. In a previous article in this journal (Magee, 1987), I indicated that these intergenerationai issues characteristically include the fol-lowing: WEALTH. (How much is enough? Who has access to it? What is sup-posed to be done with it?) HEALTH. (Use/avoidance of preventive and rehabilitative services, hy-pochondria, phobias) SEXUALITY. (Knowledgeability, scrupulosity, homophobia, premari-tal and extramarital activity) WORK. (Workaholism/inertia, process/product orientation) ANGER. (Forms of ex.pression, targets, repression, degrees of openness to resolving differences) RELIGION. (Freedom to participate/disaffiliate, questioning institutional teaching) AUTONOMY. (What decisions are mine to make? Where can I live? How often am I expected to contact kin?) These issues recur in families over generations because they have never been resolved. Instead of coping with them when they arise, fam-ily members react with a heightened anxiety which spurs demonstrations of denial, projection, and somatic symptoms. One authority refers to such issues as "islands of sensitivity" in a family. When family mem- Review for Religious, March-April 1988 bers even approach one of the "islands," no more than a particular kind of look, gesture, word, or tone of voice is needed to arouse an emotional explosion (Fogarty, 1977). ¯ Life Review and the Vowed Life How appropriate, then, that the lifestyle of living in community un-der vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience should lead religious to con-front the very issues which hold such intractable control over most peo-ple's lives. Texts concerning formative spirituality consistently em-phasize the inevitability of the vowed life engaging religious with their tenacious, problematic attitudes toward status, sexuality, and autonomy. It is to be .expected, then, that life review will elicit memories that reit-erate the difficulties religious had in observing their community's way of life precisely because that lifestyle addressed issues of exquisite sen-sitivity in their families. Consider the situation of a son who intervened between his parents who were estranged over any subject involving finances. The mother, in turn, invested in a compensatory relationship with her son, while the fa-ther maintained a deprecatory attitude toward him. The son rallied to-ward his mother, but experienced increasing anxiety over the intensity of their relationship. Later, after entering his religious community, he remained sensitized to expressions of anger, even disagreement. He was unable to resolve arguments, felt drawn to one member against another, and yet believed he must work everything out between them. Finally, he remained particularly scrupulous about observing the letter of his vowed poverty, and alert to any apparent laxity in the observance of other com-munity members. A second example concerns a woman religious who was raised in a patriarchal household in which daughters were assigned, without right of protest, the least challenging and most wearisome chores. Although she demonstrated exceptional organizational abilities in her community, she participated only reluctantly whenever her superior asked her to co-ordinate retreats conducted by a priest rather than by another woman re-ligious. In fact, whenever community liturgies involved several male cele-brants, she suffered symptoms severe enough to keep her from attending the services. A final example concerns a friar who grew up in a tradition-oriented family in which the eldest son for four consecutive generations had as-sumed direction of the family business. In this man's case, however, he entered his community even though he was the firstborn and had been christened with his great-grandfather's name. He maintains that his Life Review and the Vowed Life choice of vocation was the only discontinuity with his family of origin. For the family's entrepreneurial orientation and expectations for his as-gendancy continued throughout his life to compound his difficulties in sharing in the give-and-take exchange of community living and in ob-serving prescribed consultations with his superior. Life Review and Depression For most older religious, life review affirms their self-esteem as saved sinners, "in Christ, a new creation." Insight into the heritage of their family-based compulsions demystifies so much of their dysfunc-tional behavior. With faith, they see their frailties of character as graced opportunities "to boast of nothing but the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." For a troubled minority, however, life review, like the examen it-self, can lead to depression instead of peace. For three groups, life re-view can precipitate a crisis of conscience and faith. One group consists of religious who "have consciously exercised the human capacity to in-jure others" and cannot imagine that they could be forgiven by those whom they have injured or by God (Butler, ! 963). They feel that no re-course exists to undo whatever harm they have inflicted. Often they ap-pear obsessed with a theme or event, discussing it with one listener after another. Somerset Maugham's (1959) observation about reminiscence is poignantly relevant to members of this group: "What makes old age hard to bear is not a failing of one's faculties, mental and physical, but the burden of one's memories." Members of the second group.are those charact.eroiogically arrogant and proud. They use life review not to appreciate the gratifications that their memories recall, but to accentuate that their accomplishments and sources of life satisfaction are now behind them. Moreover, because they have built their self-esteem upon recognition for their achievements and affiliations rather than on their inherent worth as human beings, they view aging as distancing them further from the bases for their self-worth. Life review may also lead to depression for a third group who have tended throughout their life cycle to live in the future. Their memories surface a lifetime of opportunities missed because they were focusing uport tomorrow rather than upon today. Feeling powerless to modify their future-orientation and seeing death as foreclosing further opportunities, they become disconsolate over a life that appears to them as wasted. These three groups are in crisis about their spiritual life and their men- Review for Religious, March-April 1988 tal health. Their depression requires professional mental health attention. Conclusion Increased investment in life review is a developmental attribute of aging. As members of religious communities age, life review becomes a more potent resource. It enhances the quality of the daily examen. It helps religious to understand lifelong difficulties they may have had with their vowed community lifestyle. Finally, it helps in identifying relig-ious who need mental health services as well as spiritual direction. REFERENCES Butler, R. (1963). The life review: An interpretation of reminiscence in the aged. Psychiatry, 26, p. 70. Fogarty, T. (1977). Fusion. The Family, 4(2), p. 56. Magee, J. (1987). Confidants help older religious with life review. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 46(2), p. 235. Maugham, S. (1959). Points of view. Garden City: Doubleday. Merriam, S. (1980). The concept and function of reminiscence: A review of the re-search. The Gerontologist, 20(5), pp. 604-609. The Cross Reconsidered William F. Hogan, C.S.C. Father Hogan's last article, "Eucharistic Community of Disciples," appeared in the issue of November/December 1985. He continues to reside at the generalate of the Christian Brothers: Fratelli Cristiani; Via della Maglianella, 375; 00166 Roma, Italy. History points to the virtual impossibility of maintaining balance between all the facets of the mystery of Christ, his person and his message. Theo-logical controversies over the centuries bear witness to this; current spiri-tual movements, as in the past, similarly offer testimony. ~ In the present day, emphasis on the Cross would appear to be one aspect of theology-spirituality that has receded in the light of other stresses, and a variety .of reasons could be adduced, not the least of which would be a reaction against some of the negativism in the past associated with the attention given= to the cru~ifixiofi in the Paschal Mystery and the insufficient ac-cent on the resurrection. Further, the broader view of the theology of crea-tion and incarnation has been seen .as necessary for a better appreciation of the basic concept of mission and our part in it today. It is not surprising that the recent extraordinary synod pointed to the need of recognizing "that in today's difficulties God wants us to teach more profoundly the value, importance, and :centrality of the cross of Je-sus Christ."2 These words assume a particular importance when we re-flect on the many kinds of life-struggles in our world and the areas need-ing redemption. What the synod said concerning teaching the Cross should not be restricted to ministerial actions toward others, for the mes-sage touches life and spirituality and needs to be integrated therein. But how a person approaches the centrality of the Cross in ministry as well as in personal life is very important, for there is need for integration as such. We cannot just let the. Cross remain outside ourselves as a reality 197 Review for Religious, March-April 1988 to be looked at. (While this may seem obvious, in fact, in our daily liv-ing we may well find ourselves looking at the Cross disinterestedly as an object.) The Cross is not simply a thing, static; rather it involves and expresses a relation of personal self-emptying love and total giving for us. Unless seen in that perspective, it will not touch us concretely and we will find much more comfort in concentrating on the Risen Jesus, avoiding the starkness and pain of the Cross. Touch us it must, for the Cross is at the core of Christian discipleship and reveals the mystery of divine love in the gift of the person of Christ, who invites us to follow him into the Paschal Mystery. Discipleship entails such a preferential love for Jesus as to demand that we go after him all the way into the mys-tery of his death-resurrection and not be deterred by lesser preoccupa-tions. The integration of the mystery of the Cross into our lives is inti-mately associated with the whole question of our human sinfulness and brokenness and how we own that as part of our lives. Often we would prefer not to look at that side of ourselves, since it can be discouraging and depressing. Some past approaches of spirituality urged people to re-flect on sin in such a way as to foster morbidity and gloom because of insufficient attention to the love of Jesus and that of the Father in send-ing him to humankind. As a result, instead of a deep spirit of sorrow for sin, a sense of guilt took its place, accompanied by feelings of shame, where the attention is at least unconsciously on self and not on God-- "I thought I was better than that." And then for many the next logical step is the loss of a meaningful sense of sin out of a flight from guilt and shame. No doubt, it can be frightening to see some aspects of ourselves, when at times we catch a glimpse of our dark side or it catches us by surprise; and we would prefer not to acknowledge to ourselves our sin-fulness, brokenness, and weakness. Yet a major factor in this reluctance may be how we look at this part of our lives. Do we view it separately in itself or in conjunction with the Cross and the healing power of God's love? Do we at the same time see God's power operative in the midst of our human frailty, using it as an occasion to break into our lives? A basic call is given to each of us to accept ourselves as we are if we are to grow to maturity. This includes acceptance of our dark side as well as the brightness of gifts, talents, and admirable qualities. However, the acceptance of one's sinfulness must be against the background of the re-ality of the Cross and divine love eager to lead us through our b~oken-ness towards wholeness, analogous to the felix culpa message proclaimed The Cross Reconsidered / 199 in the Exsultet of the Easter Vigil Service, We are not to cling to our sinfulness in a wrong way, trying to hide it from ourselves and from God, but let him use it and operate through it--sincerely believing that "for those who love God all things work together unto good" (Rm 8:28). A correlated sense of sin and of the Cross leads to greater convic-tion of need for, dependence on, and openness to the God who loves us in our weakness; simultaneously there is a breaking down of the exagger-ated kind of personal autonomy that lies at the root of so many personal and societal problems. And the human person gradually becomes steeped in the gratefulness to God that is the antithesis of the ingratitude of sin. Joyful dependence on God should overflow into a sense of dependence on others, enabling us to more intensely live Jesus' message of interde-pendeiace. We need each other, as we all need God and his redemptive love, because of our mutual brokenness and sinfulness. And in a very real way it can be said that God uses individual frailty as a means of be-coming a life-giving channel for others when we accept them and need them in their sinfulness. God ministers to them through us when we com-mune with them in our mutual need for healing and strength; and at the same time we receive God ministering to us. The Cross is not an isolated reality, for it extends to all aspects of individual and social life in touching what is most fundamental in hu-man nature. Each season of the liturgical year, while concentrating on one or other dimension of the mystery of salvation in Christ, must ulti-mately be viewed from the perspective of the Paschal Mystery. The Cross and resurrection are present in all of them even as they were pre-sent in the lifelong discipleship of Jesus. His self-emptying in following the will of the Father and seeking the Father's glory in all the phases of his life led to the culmination of kenosis in laying down his life. Any-one who would respond to Jesus' call of discipleship must necessarily make the same journey from self to the Father, and the Cross is inescap-able. We may~not like the manner of expression of the Imitation of Christ, but the message still holds true: The cross is always ready and everywhere waits for thee. Thou canst not escape it, whithersoever thou runnest; for whithersoever thou goest, thou carriest thyself with thee and shalt always find thyself. Turn thyself up-wards, or turn thyself downwards; turn thyself without or turn thyself within thee, and everywhere thou shalt find the cross.3 Various spiritualities in the past emphasi~.ed practices related to the Cross and some of them have been dropped. Perhaps this was wise and 900 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 even necessary because the devotions were not sufficiently well grounded for some people and even, in fact, became ends in themselves. Now may be the opportune time to take another look at the values these devotions and practices were meant to instill and deepen and to seek to reincorpo-rate them with new expressions and emphases, especially making a more explicit link to discipleship and our human brokenness. This could be help-ful in enabling us to perceive life and ministry struggles in terms of the Cross and drinking the cup (see Mt 20:22). Similarly opportune would be ongoing personal reflection on God's personal redemptive love for the individual--a truth that can never be deeply enough engraved on our hearts, a truth intellectually admitted but so often not interiorly believed such as to affect our lives. In the awareness of the pilgrimage of our lives, we need to see the already attained as having been reached in terms of God's love and the power of the Cross and the "not yet" element as something to be faced in the light of the same. Throughout the centuries the Cross has been a symbol of Christ, point-ing backward through history to the salvific event and at the same time forward with a prophetic call. It speaks to the world and to individuals about love, unlimited love, the love to which we are still challenged to-day: What I say to you is: offer no resistance to injury. When a person strikes you on the right cheek, turn and offer him the other. If anyone wants to go to law over your shirt, hand him your coat as well. Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him two miles. Give tqthe man who begs from you. Do not turn your back on the borrower. You have heard the commandment, "You shall love your countryman but hate your enemy." My command to you is: love your enemies, pray for your persecutors. This will prove that you are sons of your heavenly Fa-ther, for his sun rises on the bad and the good, he rains on the just and unjust (Mt 5:39-45). The disciple of Christ, even in his/her sinfulness, is empowered to take up the challenge of Christ through the power of the Cross operative today and, in trying to witness to this love, will be living out the Pas-chal Mystery. How important it is that we seriously reconsider the Cross and its im-plications in our lives today, for it is so easy to forget or at least take it for granted. The Cross Reconsidered NOTES ~ See John Dalrymple, "Not Peace but the Sword," in The Way, January 1986, where the author indicates how some elements of charismatic spirituality tend to cloud over some disturbing aspects of Christ and his message. 2 L'Osservatore Romano, December 10, 1985, Documents section, Relatio Finalis D. 2. 3 Thomas a Kempis, My Imitation of Christ, Confraternity of the Precious Blood," Brooklyn, New York, 1954, p. 147. A Sister's Passing I watched the sunlight touch the corners of the sky and softly climb the hills, while you-- so still-- let the light fade in your room and quietly went.away to another mansion where mysteries are no more, and the Son-light never dims. I shall not question your going. R.LP. Sistei" Dorothy Clark, R.S.C.J. 2/6/85 Claire Mahaney, R.S.C.J. 140 Valparaiso Ave. Menlo Park, CA 94025 Advance Directives for Health Care: A Proposal for Priests and Religious Ruth Caspar, O.P., Ph.D. Sister Ruth, recently returned from a sabbatical devoted to research in bioethics, is a consultant in biomedical ethics along with being Professor and Chair of the De-partment of Philosophy at Ohio Dominican College; 1216 Sunbury Road; Colum-bus, Ohio 43219. The events surrounding the recent death of Monsignor.Thomas O'Brien will put clergy and members of religious congregations on notice that they should enact directives concerning their preferences regarding medi-cal treatment well in advance of the age of 83. ~ This was the age of Mon-signor O'Brien at the time of the severe stroke that left him paralyzed, unable to swallow and take nourishment, and incapable of speech. It was also the age of Brother Charles Fox when he suffered cardiac arrest and anoxia during routine surgery.2 In both cases, medical technology was available to sustain the lives of these patients, and in both cases persons close to them--friends who could have been expected to know their val-ues and preferences--sought the removal of these medical interventions. A review of the medical, legal, and ethical aspects of these cases, which differ in significant respects, will be instructive in providing a con-text for the discussion of Advance Directives "for members of the clergy and of refigious congregations. Brother Fox In the literature of bioethics, the case known in law as Eichner v. Dillon stands as one of the precedent-setting decisions regarding proxy consent authorizing termination of treatment for an adult incompetent pa-tient. 3 Father Philip K. Eichner, S.M., secured in that decision judicial 202 Health-Care Directives / 903 approval from the Appellate Court, Second Department, of New York State to remove respirator support from Brother Joseph Charles Fox, di-agnosed as suffering from "permanent or chronic vegetative coma." This petition had initially been approved by a trial court order, but was appealed by Nassau County District Attorney Denis Dillon. Both Father Eichner and Brother Fox were members of the Society of Mary, and both at that time belonged to the community at Chaminade High School in Mineola, N.Y. When Brother Fox entered Nassau Hos-pital for routine surgery for a hernia in October 1979, he had spent 66 of his 83 years as a Marianist Brother, the last ten of them in retirement at Chaminade, where his longtime friend Father Eichner served as relig-ious Superior and president of the high school. Their relationship, beyond that of friendship, was also established on the trust and respect that are part of the structure of religious community life under vows of obedi-ence. In 1953, Eichner had been a novice under the guidance of Brother Fox, then prefect of novices; in 1979 this role was reversed, and Fox lived and worked as a member of a community under the direction of Fa-ther Eichner. Why did this case make legal and bioethical history? Removal of a respirator from a patient in chronic vegetative state, with no hope of re-covery of cognitive functioning, is now fairly well supported in legal precedent and moral consensus; the debate in the courts and among bioethicists today focuses on the withdrawal of a further and more con-troversial intervention: tube feeding, which is at issue in the O'Brien case. But this was not the agenda in 1979 when Quinlan was foremost in the consciousness of the courts and the public as a result of media ex-posure. The Fox case was not finally resolved until March 31, 1981, when a decision of the New York Court of Appeals, highest court in that state, consolidating Eichner v. Dillon with Storar, upheld the decision of the lower court regarding Fox. It had opened on October 2, 1979, when Brother Fox, in relatively good health but advanced age, went in for sur-gery to correct a hernia he had suffered while gardening. In the course of the surgery he suffered cardiopulmonary arrest. Heart massage even-tually restored a heartbeat, but not before oxygen deprivation tothe brain had reduced Brother Fox to dependence on a respirator to sustain even the most basic ~of vital functions, with no hope of regaining conscious-ness. When this prognosis was confirmed by neurosurgeons, Father Eich-ner requested that the hospital remove the patient from interventions that 204 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 were clearly "extraordinary" under the well-articulated moral teaching of the Catholic Church. He was supported in this request by Brother Fox's nieces and nephews, all of whom concurred in this decision. More-over, Father Eichner and the provincial, Father Keenan, could report that they had heard Brother Fox express his preferences regarding the mat-ter. In discussions surrounding Quinlan he had said that he would not want to have his life prolonged by such extraordinary and artificial meas-ures, a conviction he reiterated immedi~ately prior to his own s.urgery. He had, however, no written document stating his position. When hospital officials refused, alleging both legal and moral qualms, Eichner was left with no alternative but to go to court if he wished to honor the known preferen.ces of his Marianist brother. He sought a court order appointing him as proxy for the incompetent patient with authority todecide whether life-sustaining equipment should be with-drawn. This was granted by the trial court on December 6, 1979 (Brother Fox had by now been in deep coma for two months); the order was im-mediately appealed by Dillon. Before the subsequent decision in favor of Eichner was rendered, Brother Fox died on January 24, 1980. Citing the far-reaching impact of the issues contested in the case, the Appellate Division proceeded with the case, announcing its decision two months later (Eichner v. Dillon, March 27, 1980). Dillon appealed once again, to the highest court in the state; once again Father Eichner's right as proxy to authorize the termi-n~ ition of treatment for Fox was upheld in the 1981 decision In re Storar. Though vindicated at every level of court review, the progress of the Fox case nevertheless incurred $20,000 in legal fees and over $80,000 in medi-cal costs. Monsignor O'Brien If the Fox case seems relatively clear and straightforward in spite of the difficulties encountered in its progress, that of Monsignor Thomas O'Brien, had it proceeded through court review, would have been a storm center. Nevertheless it presents an even stronger argument for a need for Advance Directives on the part of clergy and religious. Father Thomas O'Brien, ordained a priest for the archdiocese of New York, served over the many years of his priestly ministry at St. Paul's in Harlem, St. Anastasia's in the Bronx, and St. Malachy's, the "Ac-tor's Chapel," in Manhattan, where in retirement he held a position as Pastor Emeritus. He is described in the court record as "a lively, gre-garious loving man, an avid reader, a rapt conversationalist, and a good friend to the members of his parish."4 Health-Care Directives / 905 At the age of 83, he was severely disabled by a stroke suffered on May 25, 1986. As a result of the stroke~and subsequent paralysis, he was restricted in his movements, unable, initially, to swallow or take notir-ishment, and incapable of speech. In response to the medical emergency, a nasogastric tube was in-serted for the provision of nourishment. As the name suggests, these tubes are inserted through the nose and pass to the stomach. No consent form was required for this "noninvasive" intervention. Alth6ugh there was some difference of expert opinion about Father O'Brien's degree of competence, the record indicates that "he was not happy with the tube that was inserted and would have preferred to have it out." This he com-municated clearly by attempting to remove it fifteen times. At this point, hospital officials at Frances Shervier Home and Hos-pital in Riverdale, N.Y., petitioned the court for a conservator for pur-poses of consenting to the surgical insertion of a feeding-tube directly through the abdomen into the stomach: a gastrostomy.Such a procedure would allow the continued provision of life-sustaining nourishment with-out the irritation and discomfort associated with the nasogastric tube. It would also, from the perspective of the hospital, "buy time" for the reso-lution of the question bf competence. With the consent of a court-appointed guardian, "there being some conflict in psychiatric testimony.as to whether Msgr. O'Brien was or was not competent to make a decision as to the continuation of life-sustain-ing procedures," the surgery was performed on September 17, 1986. The issue, now that the stomach tube was in place, was whether it could be removed. To determine this, the court sought additional psychiatric testimony and heard the opinions of those most closely associated with the patient. There were no family members in a position to speak for Father O'Brien, nor had he personally authorized anyone to make decisions regarding his health care. No living will was available. One fellow priest is mentioned in the court record--the director of the residence where Father O'Brien livi~d--but he did not act as proxy decision-maker. The person who seemed to be best able to speak for the patient was a Iongtime friend who had initially requested removal ofthe NG tube. His opinion is noted in the record with respect ("His integrity and concern define what true friendship is all about"), but it was not held to be binding. Four psychiatrists, examining the patient who now had the stomach tube in place, found that he "was not so depressed or withdrawn as to render him incapable of making a rational decision affecting his life." 906 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 His method of communication, however, was limited to affirmative and negative responses which he communicated by squeezing the .hand of the speaker or nodding his head. In this way he indicated that he was not happy with the tube. He understood that it was necessary to sustain life. Did he want to live? No. Did he want to die? No. Hearing his testimony, Judge Greenfield found it necessary to visit the patient himself and to conduct his own assessment of competency and patient preference. Once again he found the evidence unclear and the mes-sages ambiguous, leading him to conclude that the court could not order the removal of the tube. "It will not order the discontinuance of a life-support mechanism without the clearest and most compelling indications from the person most directly involved. Whenever there is doubt, a court must opt for the affirmation of life." For some weeks after the insertion of the stomach tube, Monsignor O'Brien seemed to improve. Attorney for the Shervier Home, Thomas Ford, reported that he took some food orally, attended physical therapy, and prayed the rosary with his nurse.5 He died on December 8, 1986, three months after surgery for the gastrostomy. No further legal action was taken with respect to his case. Who Speaks for the Incompetent Priest or Religious? In the wake of~ Eichner v. Dillon major superiors of religious con-gregations in the United States commissioned a study of the legal issues surrounding treatment decisions in terminal illness, patient rights, and sur-rogate decision-making for their members. Prepared in 1983 by Mary Cos-grove Consentino, Esq., for the Leadership Conference of Women Re-ligious and the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (LCWR/CMSM), Health Care Decision Making for Incompetent Patients: Who Decides? provided an analysis of these issues, a review of rulings in the six states that had, at that time, acted on matters regarding who might decide whether life-sustaining equipment might be withheld from a terminally ill or permanently unconscious incompetent adult, and a set of recom-mendations for effecting surrogate decisi0n-making. Although this paper was not addressed specifically to clergy who are not members of religious institutes, many of its suggestions could be adapted for their use, and indeed for anyone contemplating the designa-tion of a proxy for health-care decisions. In the case of sisters, brothers, and priests who are members of religious communities, the analogy with the family offers strong support for the recognition of a fellow-member as the person best able to speak for an incompetent patient. Health-Care Directives / 207 Religious communities and dioceses will be concerned about these matters for a number of reasons. The individual person's rights of self-determination, privacy, and dignity in dying will be of paramount im-portance. In addition, there are legitimate concerns regarding the finan-cial costs of unnecessary and. futile treatment, the desire to avoid litiga-tion, and a need to clarify the roles of family and community members in decisions regarding medical treatment for priests .and religious sisters and brothers. The LCWR/CMSM paper recommends oral discussions--both for-mal and informal--as one means for bringing these concerns to the sur-face within a religious congregation. It had been this type of discussion that provided the occasion for Brother Fox to articulate his personal pref-erences regarding life-extending technology, remarks that were accepted as evidence by the courts. Increasingly, however, a more formal vehicle for the expression of directions concerning terminal care in the event of incompetency is advised. Referred to generically as Advance Directives, these may take the form of a living will or a durable power of attorney for health care. The living will is a directive executed by an individual while com-petent, specifying preferences concerning the types of treatment that one would wish in the event of incapacity. Typically these directives, antici-pating a condition of terminal illness and incompetency, request the with-holding of life-extending measures that would have the effect only of pro-longing the dying process. Durable powers of attorney are legal docu-ments authorizing an agent (the "attorney in fact") to make decisions on behalf of another person, even a~ter that person becomes incompe-tent (hence "durable" since traditional powers of attorney terminate with the incapacity of the principal). In each jurisdiction th'e binding force of living wills and durable pow-ers of attorney will depend on legislation (Natural Death Acts), compli-ance with statutory regulations, and the interpretation of the courts. As anyone familiar with the d~iily news will know, this is one of the most rapidly developing fields in medico-legal affairs. The LCWR/CMSM'pa-per reflects the state of the question on these matters only for ! 983 and must be updated. Highly recommended for this purpose is the recent publica~tion, A Mat-ter of Choice: Planning Ahead for Health Care Decisions, prepared in 1986 by attorney Barbara Mishkin for the U.S. Senate Special Commit-tee on Aging and distributed through the Special Projects Department of the American Association of Retired Persons.6 A Matter of Choice pro- 208 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 vides essential information that will greatly assist anyone contemplating the preparation of an Advance Directive for health care, as well as those charged with planning and implementing policy on these matters. Included in this report are the statutory provisions for the enactment of living wills in the 38 states that had legislated Natural Death Acts by September 1986, and a complete discussion of the durable power of at-torney, now recognized in all 50 states. Information regardingfamily con-sent statutes in the 17 states that have specific legislation regarding the rights of family members to make health-care decisions for incap.acitated adults is also provided, as are the provisions for making donations of bod-ily tissue or organs through the Uniform Anatomical Gift Act. Sample forms for living wills and durable powers of attorney are provided in an Appendix. The Durable Power of Attorney for Health Care There are some clear advantages of the DPA, making it preferable to a living will, and reflected in the recommendation and endorsement by the President's Commission for the Study of Ethical Problems in Medi-cine and Biomedical and Behavioral Research in 1983.7 As an Advance Directive it is more flexible and more personal: phy-sicians and others involved in health care will be interacting with a per-son who is cognizant of the actual condition of the patient, rather than with a document drafted at some time in the past. The agent, chosen by the patient with a view to being able to speak in his or her behalf, will be in a better position to authorize either continuation or termination of treatment, in consultation with physicians and others responsible for the patient's care. DPAs can be used in behalf of persons not terminally ill (someone with permanent loss of consciousness or with degenerative ill-ness) and can be drafted to authorize a variety of services. A further advantage over the living will is the fact that, with the leg-islation by the District of Columbia in January 1987, 50 states and the District now have DPA statutes. There is great variety among them, how-ever, and only the most recently enacted were designed explicitly for use in medical-treatment decisions. Since most were enacted primarily to authorize decisions regarding property, they are silent with regard to their possible use for health care. Increasingly, however, they are being rec-ommended for this purpose. Attorney Mishkin's report for the Senate Committee is optimistic regarding their application to this field: No court has ruled on the validity of powers of attorney in this context, however; therefore no one can say with absolute certainty that a power Health-Care Directives / 20~ of attorney for health care would be implemented by a court, if the ques-tion were posed. Nevertheless, since courts generally will accept clear and convincing evidence of a patient's wishes in matters concerning health care, the probability is high that a court would accept an incapaci-tated patient's designation of a proxy health care decision maker through a durable power of attorney.8 For members of religious congregations, the DPA seems best suited to one very important function: clarifying who may speak for the com-munity member when physicians and courts, in the absence of such a des-ignated proxy, may tend to assume that it would be next of kin. This is not to say that family members might not be involved in the consulta-tion, but that the designated spokesperson would be a member of the re-ligious institute. An Education Program for Priests and Religious In recent years many religious congregations, provinces, and dio-ceses in the U.S. have begun the process of widespread education of their members regarding these matters. In some instances these programs are well underway or nearing completion, with all members aware of their rights and responsibilities, in consultation with the legal, medical, and ethical expertise needed to facilitate the implementation of an effective policy. Others have just begun. The rapidly developing fields of biome-dical ethics and the law surrounding terminal care will assure that this will be an ongoing project for all groups. For those who have not yet fully considered these issues, a program for community education is sketched in broad outline. Whatever ap-proach is taken, the design should enabi~ members to come to g~:ips with the,major theological, ethical, legal, and medical questions raised by the new life-extending technologies. For members of communities under vow, these will be considered in the cohtext of congregational expecta-tions with respect to a common life, simplicity, and justice in the alloca-tion of resources. Theological Reflection Priests, brothers, and sisters who have chosen to live in dedicated service within the Roman Catholic Church will want to ground their re-flections on the long and well-articulated tradition of that Church regard-ing the sanctity of life, the ministry of healing and caring that defines Catholic health care, the redemptive role of pain and suffering, and the reality of human finitude and mortality. No document better summarizes 210 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 that tradition and addresses the pressing moral questions t~aised by new forms of treatment than the Vatican Declaration on Euthanasia.9 The 1980 Declaration, prepared by the Congregation for the Doc-trine of the Faith, carefully distinguishes the terminology used in the eutha-nasia debate: actions and omissions, intentions and consequences, ordi-nary and extraordinary means-~clarified in this document in terms of treat-ments offering "proportionate" or "disproportionate" burdens and bene-fits. Its principles are clear and offer realistic guidelines. While affirming the.sanctity of life and God's sovereignty, the Dec-laration speaks also of the unavoidability of death. Seen in the light bf faith, death provides entrance into eternal life. We may not hasten the hour of death through suicide or murder, but we are not required to sub-mit to treatment that "would only secure a precarious and burdensome prolongation of life, so long as normal care due to the sick person in simi-lar cases is not interrupted." Care-givers act conscientiously when they "administer the remedies that seem necessary or useful." Medical in-terventions that are normally optional, are those in which "the investment in instruments and personnel is disproportionate to the results foreseen" or" those that "impose on the patient strain or suffering out of propor-tion with the benefits which he or she may gain from such techniques." Some Catholic religious may be initially hesitant regarding the legiti-macy of enacting advance directives, having read of the opposition of their bishops to living wills. In this regard it will be important to clarify that the opposition of Conferences of Bishops to state legislation of cer-tain Natural Death Acts was directed at the legislation and not at an indi-vidual person's right of self-determination in writin~g such a directive. Foreseeing the rapid development of law (39 states now have such legis-lation), the National Conference of Bishops, through its Committee for Pro-Life Activities, issued on November 10, 1984, "Guidelines for Leg-islation On Life-Sustaining Treatment." ~0 These guidelines, reflecting the Vatican Declaration, propose "ways of respecting the moral principles ¯ . . as well as related concerns of the Church, whenever there is a de-bate on whether existing or proposed legislation adequately addresses the subject. ' ' The Catholic Health Association distributes a directive, the "Chris-tian Affirmation of Life: A Statement on Terminal Illness," that provide.s an opportunity for a person to state his or her wishes regarding treatment in terminal illness, in full compliance with the principles of the Church. ~ In states that have legislation regarding living wills, some, but not all, Health-Care Directives / 911 allow departures from the statutory form, and this document might be used as an alternative. Women and men whose lives have been lived in faith will also ap-proach sickness and death inspired by the same faith, identifying with Jesus in obedience to the call of the Father. They will appreciate the min-istry of their brothers and sisters who care for them in their illness, and will be concerned to act as responsibly with the resources of their com-munities in their illness as they have done in good health. Belief in res-urrection and eternal life places decisions regarding medical intervention within a faith-context. It will be inappropriate to deny death by insisting on medical interventions that are futile and that only prolong the dying process. Ethical Principles Ethical discussion of the issues raised by new developments in medi-cine and life-extending technologies, when addressed to a broader pub-lic than the Catholic community, is frequently framed in terms of cer-tain principles that must be honored and balanced in the delivery of good health care. Among the principles most central to this debate and to the matter of advance directives are these four: self-determination (or auton-omy), beneficence, justice, and fidelity. The principle of autonomy is derivative from a recognition of the in-herent dignity of the person as a free and self-determining individual. As such., competent adults have a right to control what will be done to them regarding medical treatment, and others have a responsibility to respect their reasonable wishes. This right holds, also, for previously competent adults who have indicated what their preferences would be in the event of incompetency andlor who have designated a proxy to make decisions for them. The full exercise of this right requires adequate disclosure of information--the risks and benefits of alternative procedures--as foun-dation for truly informed consent or refusal. The right to self-determination is not absolute and may be overrid-den in certain circumstances. Patients, thus, may expect that their pref-erences will be honored unless they are in conflict with "compelling state interest," the stated policies of the health-care facility, or the pro-fessional integrity of the care-givers (who are also persons with the right to self-determination). For the religious who has freely joined and re-mained as a member of a community guided by the teachings of the Catho-lic Church, choices will be further limited by fidelity to those teachings. The more extreme interpretations of autonomy assume a radical individu- Review for Religious, March-April 1988 alism that is contrary to the commitment that members of a voluntary com-munity have with respect to one another. The principle of beneficence, or patient benefit in this context, re-quires that one do good and avoid doing harm. The negative requirement (nonrrialeficence) is a more stringent duty than is the need to provide posi-tive benefit to improve the lot of the patient. In fact, these two aspects of o

Issue 53.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1994. ; OUS Christian Heritages and ContemporaryLiving MARCH-APRIL 1994 ¯ VOLUME 53 ¯ NUMBER 2 ¯ Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ° Fax: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, 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. ©1994 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. review for religious Editor David L. Fleming Associate Editors Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Canonical Counsel Editor Elizabeth McDonough OP Assistant Editors ¯ Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Advisory Board Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Susanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APILIL 1994 ¯ VOLUME 53 ¯ NUMBER 2 contents 166 feature In the Midst of the Times: Religious Life and the Ever-Present Experience of the World John W. Padberg SJ presents three historical perspectives on religious life to aid in imagining and planning for the future. commitments 182 Vowed Witness in a Church Intent on Love 189 196 David Maria Knight suggests that religious are examples and models of that dramatic gesture which is a key element in launching anyone into passionate relationship with God. Quest for an Undivided Heart Theresa Mancuso ponders a heart focused on God in a life of consecrated chastity. Imaged Celibacy: A Reflection for Priests Brian C. Yates proposes a way of imaging that allows us to enter more freely into the reality of celibate living. challenges 200 Needed: An Ethic of Memories 208 214 222 Joanne Marie Greer suggests various ethical aspects that need to be considered when sharing memories, especially those which are a part of therapeutic counseling. ADiscipline of Self-Respect William Mockus describes the need for spiritual discipline as a function of self-respect. A Transformational Journey Annete Adams SND observes the cycle of the monarch butterfly to gain understanding about the spiritual-direction process. Community for Today and Tomorrow Janet Roesener CSJ sets forth the call and challenges for reli-gious to live a covenantal community life. 162 Review for Religious 231 238 254 263 directions Fruitfulness versus Achievement Peter G. Van Breemen SJ reflects on the distinction which we Christians need to make between achievement and the biblical notion of fruitfulness. Old Brothers and Young, Dreams and Visions Robert C. Berger FSC uses images of the Hebrew Scriptures to shed light on the action of God and the relevance of brother-hood. Just Look at the Lord Joel Giallanza CSC presents a simple and practical melding of our desire to pray and our praying from Teresa of Avila. Pray Always: John Cassian on Distractions Kenneth C. Russell applies the insights of John Cassian to help us live a life focused on God amidst the distractions of the modern world. reflections 273 Genesis Continued Mary Michael McCulla CDP poetically reflects a kind of Genesis account of woman. 278 Called to the Harvest Vera Gallagher RGS enters us into her experience of God's healing grace in people's troubled lives. 285 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and ~7orks 1993 Kenneth G. Davis .OFMConv presents a panoramic of the year's events within the U:S. Hispanic Catholid community. departments ¯ ¯ 164 Prisms 303 Canonical Counsel: Norms for Renewal and Reflections on Its Progress 309 Book Reviews Marcb-/lpri11994 163 prisms ~edo not necessarily compliment our-selves when we compare ourselves to the first disciples of Jesus. For example, the two disciples on their way to Emmaus do not symbolize either gospel people (evange-lizers) or apostolic people (on a mission). In a way, of course, they are pilgrim people, journeying, although they are running away from Jerusalem, where their lives are meant to be centered. They know a lot about Jesus-- enough to k6ep talking about him at least between them-selves or privately with an amiable stranger. Yet what stands out in their telling of the Jesus story is their own disappointment. Disappointment may be the common cross that afflicts us followers of Jesus all the more because we like to describe ourselves as Alleluia people. These two disciples symbolize disappointment immediately after Jesus' pas-sion. During the active ministry of Jesus, a rich man with much fervor wanted to lead a holy life, but walked away from Jesus--disappointed with his kind of "Beatitude" challenge. Other disciples caused Jesus such pain by their leaving that he asked Peter and the others identified as the Twelve, "Will you leave me too?" People had left cha-grined by all this foolish talk about Jesus being the food and drink of their lives. They were unwilling to live with promise in such incarnate guise. Disappointment can certainly be a difficult cross to bear for us Christ-followers. For us present-day disciples of the one who has overcome death, it somehow seems "not right" to have to continue to face defeat, failure, and betrayal, especially from agents that speak or act in Christ's 164 Review for Religi?us name. How can we not be disappointed when the Vatican is the only agency among all the world's states which recognizes a repressive government in Haiti? How legitimate the disappoint-ment is when we face the problem of certain clerics or religious who betrayed a trust by their sexual abuse of a child! How disap-pointing for us as a community is the high percentage of failed marriages, often within our own families--marriages celebrated with all the beauty and solemn commitment of the wedding Mass! Are we ever disappointed with ourselves--after years of striving to be Little Flowers--at still feeling more like the scrubby weeds found along abandoned railroad tracks? Disappointments come in all sizes--some so big that they seem insurmountable, but others so small and daily that we suf-fer them as the necessary "colds and flu" of our spiritual life. Disappointments come at all stages of life development. Young and old and all the in-betweens face unrealized or shattered dreams, an if-only sense of things left undone, feelings of aban-donment by ones they love. Where does the event of Christ's resurrection touch most directly the practical living of our lives? I would suggest that we need to look towards our experience of disappointments. We test quickly the firmness of our faith in the resurrection by our lived response to disappointment. Among us followers who want to distance ourselves from this hierarchical church or to walk away from a disheartened priesthood or to dismiss a seemingly anachro-nistic religious life or to reject a cumbersome parish structure, we find an identity with the two disciples on their way to Emmaus. The question we face is whether we will take the time from all our talk or activity to listen to and recognize the call to believe what is central to our faith: Jesus is risen, and our response to disap-pointment need never be a time without grace, an experience without new life. The Easter e{r~nt translates into our creedal "I believe in the resurrection of the dead." But the daily disap-pointments that make us die by inches are where we all need to let our resurrection faith have.its effect. As with the two disciples on that first Easter evening, it is in our hurrying back into a dis-appointing Jerusalem--with our faith in the risen Lord--that we truly act as evangelizers arid people on mission. David L. Fleming SJ March-April 1994 165 feature JOHN W. PADBERG In the Midst of the Times: Religious Life and the Ever-Present Experience of the World The reader of these reflections by an historian will have noted at once that their title is a variation on the immediately preceding theological essay by Elizabeth Johnson csj, "Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God." That reprise is quite deliberately meant to introduce the reader to the com-plementary. intent of these remarks, in accord with the overall structure of the Religious Life Futures Project. That comprehensive, study of "the future of religious orders in the United States" included six independent ele-ments or "research units" in its work. The first five were a national survey, leadership studies, studies of caring peo-ple and of visioning groups, and a series of individual interviews. The sixth unit was to be a two-part theologi-cal/ historical monograph, of which the first part was to provide a theological framework for interpreting the data gathered in the study and this second part was to be "an historical postscript" or a set of reflections on that theo-logical essay from an historical perspective. John W. Padberg SJ is director of the Institute of Jesuit Sources in St. Louis. This article will be part of a companion book to The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Transformation and Commitment (Praeger Publishers, 1993) by David J. Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis. His address is Institute of Jesuit Sources; 3700 West Pine Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. 166 Review for Religious The theological essay concludes saying, "For religious life in the United States it is now Advent, the most honest season of all. ¯. What is needed is vigilant patience, profound prayer, and the ability to act boldly toward that future where new forms of evan-gelical life will develop" (Johnson, p. 24).1 This essay will take off from that judgment, which is both correct and important. Advent is a new beginning, but it comes after the conclusion of the year-long liturgical season during which we first await and long for the arrival of Jesus and then in turn remember and cel-ebrate the impossibly good news that he himself is: a hidden life of long duration, the preaching of the good news in person and in word, his seeming defeat in his terrifyingly real passion and death, and then the paschal triumph. We might be tempted to think it is all just a cycle, but then the year goes on beyond the life of Jesus, like an arrow into the future, to tell us that the spreading of that news and the imparting of that life take place in the down-to-earth reality of the post-Pentecostal church which, if we stop to realize it, still lives on as our present church. And then the year begins again with another Advent. The history of the church has recorded many such Advent and subsequent varying seasons. So has the history of religious life in the church. As the theological essay notes, "the evangeli-cal following of Jesus in the church, traditionally called 'religious life,' has been incarnated in a great diversity of forms [which] have consistently emerged from the insights of individuals and groups responding to the Spirit in the crucible of cultural change" (Johnson, p. 7). If it is true that "the only reason for religious life is the experience of God" (Johnson, p. 16), and that such experi-ence is a "postmodern" one "between the times," it is true in another sense that the only way such religious life is lived is "in the midst of the times" and in the context of "the ever-present experience of the world." Hence the complementary title of this essay and the tenor of its remarks. The theological essay suggests that the emerging "under-standing of [religious] life is primarily that of persons and com-munities called to prophetic ministry embedded in a contemplative relationship to God" (Johnson, p. 12). It maintains that beneath changes in structure are changes in attitude and that underlying such changes in attitude is a postmodern experience of God. "Postmodernity is conscious of the end of progress, the limits of reason, the sad isolation of the unconnected individual, and the March-April 1994 167 Padberg ¯ In the Midst of the Times Spiritualities significantly influence the ways in which °religious congregations remain faithful to their original purposes and the ways in which they respond to human need. catastrophe that results when nature is disrespected," while wish-ing to keep from the modern era such goods as "the emphasis on human dignity and human rights and their expressions in liberty and equality. Postmodernity is awake to the egregious failures that the modern ethos has wrought. It wants to go Away-From-Here" (Johnson, p. 18). But meanwhile it is absolutely nec-essary to remember that the "Here" from which postmodernity seeks to escape still mightily influences our cur-rent life. And while the contexts of pre-sent and past are inevitably different, the reactions to past contexts might yield clues as to how we shall react to the pre-sent context. Religious life has of neces-sity existed in several such past contexts of a world changing around it. Often enough that life took on a particular character from the ways in which its members, men and women religious, looked both on change "in the midst of the times" and on the "ever-present experience of the world" around them (to quote again from the title of these present reflec-tions) and from the ways in which they judged both world and change or history. The body of this essay will deal especially with those two matters. It will, firs.t, present several such modern changes in reli-gious life in the midst of changing times, in other words, several examples from history. Secondly, it will reflect more generally on the ways in which religious life responds to change and to the experience of the world, because the nature of those responses characterizes in part the dominant spiritualities which inform either religious life in general or a particular form of that life. Such spiritualities, in turn, significantly influence the ways in which religious congregations remain faithful to their original purposes and the ways in which they respond to human need. As the executive summary of the study concludes, "fidelity to the spirit of the founder and responsiveness to critical and unmet human needs are basic to the original mission of religious com-munities" (Summary, p. 42).2 168 Review for Religious Three Times in the Midst of Change In its fifteen-hundred-year history in the Latin Church of the West, religious life has experienced upheaval more often than is realized. To look only at the modern world, such upheaval has happened in a major way three times in the last four hundred and fifty years: during the time of the Reformation (beginning in 1517), during the time of the French Revolution (beginning in 1789), and in the renewal which was asked for by the Second Vatican Council, which ended in 1965. First, the Reformation. The whole notion of religious life was rejected by the Protestant reformers. This rejection had its foun-dation in their theology, but it gained popular support because religious life had lost much of its credibility. The scandalous rep-utation of many religious congregations and their members-- especially male religious--was all too often deserved. One does not have to read Chaucer (before the Reformation) or Rabelais (dur-ing it) for examples of why that reputation was well deserved. The church documents in those years, calling for reform, are vivid enough. Over and over those calls for reform were made, and over and over again they were ignored. The effects on religious life in the lands of reform were dev-astating. In England men and women religious had already been brutally driven out of their houses. In other countries monks and nuns left their orders in droves. Even in lands that stayed Catholic, the numbers of persons entering religious life dropped drasti-cally. So bad had the reputation of religious life become that more than once during the Catholic reform it was proposed to the Holy See that all but four orders of men, and most orders of women, be suppressed. And yet, in the midst of this seemingly impossible situation, during the Catholic reform new orders and congregations arose, grew in numbers, and flourished. Older orders gradually took themselves in hand, reformed, and prospered. Why? The second major upheaval took place at the time of the French Revolution. While the religious orders in general had been far more faithful to their rule and to the furtherance of the spiritual lives of their members than at the Reformation, still many, even the most active of them, had often lost touch with the changing world around them, a world influenced in many ways by the Enlightenment. The Revolution brought chaos to the church and to religious March-April 1994 169 Padberg * In the Midst of the Times life. Europe was the home of most of the members of the church. It was the place where the administrative structures, the finan-cial resources, the educational establishments, the charitable apos-tolates, the seminaries, the religious congregations had existed for more than fifteen hundred years, all in aid of the preaching of the gospel and the celebration of the sacraments. Quite simply, the Revolution swept away most of these realities upon which the church depended and in which religious life had embodied itself. The properties from which many of the dioceses and orders drew their support were secularized by the new governments and sold to the highest bidder. (For example, Cluny, the acme of Romanesque architecture, the glory of. the Benedictine Order, the second largest church in the Christian world, was destroyed, in part by revolutionary ideology and frenzy but mostly by several good middle-class families who bought it after the state had con-fiscated it and then had it taken down, stone by stone, to be sold for their profit as building material, all in the name of the sanc-tity of private property.) Many of the religious orders were officially abolished in the lands reached by the Revolution; members of almost all of them were turned out of their houses and left to fend for themselves. In 1789, as the French Revolution began, there were some two thou-sand Benedictine establishments in Europe; by 1815 only about twenty were still functioning. In fact, of the many religious orders of men in existence before the French Revolution, only two, the Christian Brothers and the Jesuits, have ever again grown to be as large as they were before the Revolution or larger. And yet, the hundred and fifty years from the Revolution to the beginning of Vatican II were for religious congregations and orders the most unusual years in the history of the church. More new congregations were founded than in any comparable period in the history of the church. More new congregations of women were founded in that century and a half than in the whole previ-ous history of the church. The older orders grew again. More missionary congregations were founded than ever before, and more women and men went to the foreign missions. Why? To turn now to our own histories, and the third upheaval, the Second Vatican Council brought undreamt-of change to the church and to religious life. Many in the church had hoped for change, but no one could have imagined the depth and breadth of the change which did occur. This is not the place to rehearse 170 Revino for Religious those postconciliar events of the past twenty-five to thirty years. The theological essay has well noted many of the changes that took place. Perhaps, however, the quantity and especially the qual-ity of that change can be evoked by recalling ten words or phrases from Vatican II. With the two exceptions of the words "liturgy" and "revelation," none had been common in the church before the council. The other eight are: aggiornamento, collegiality, dia-logue, people of God, inculturation, religious liberty, joy and hope (gaudium et spes), and ecumenism. The realities behind those words raised expectations and produced changes which often have gone beyond either the worst fears of those who wanted no change or the best guesses of those who hoped for it. But whether we now react with dismay, delight, or doubt, many of the details, good, bad, or indifferent, of the world of the church and the world of religious life in the church of thirty to forty years ago have changed irretrievably or even vanished. In and through those changes since Vatican II religious life has been in tur-moil, as it was in the two other great Changes were not introduced from some source external to the church such as the Reformation or the Revolution, but came about internally, from the church itself'at Vatican II. modern upheavals. A very great difference, however, is that these changes were not introduced from some source external to the church such as the Reformation or the Revolution, but came about internally, from the church itself at Vatican II and from what has been truly in its proportions a paradigm shift in the church's self-understanding. The notion of "tranSformation" in the organiza-tional realm, as described in the Religious Life Futures Project, is utterly apt here for what has happened in the~ church. "It refers to qualitative, discontinuous shifts in members' shared under-standings of the organization, accompanied by changes in the organization's mission, strategy, and formal and informa| struc-tures" (Summary, pp. 9-10). In the midst of all this, religious orders and congregations were themselves directly asked by the church to review and revise their own way of life in the light of the council's teachings, in accord with their originating charism, and in adaptation to the March-April1994 1 ~1 Padberg ¯ In the Midst of the Times needs of today. In general, they have taken this request seriously and generously, often at great personal and institutional cost. They, too, have been caught up in the process of transformation. And yet, in this case, the optimistic aftermath of the two ear-lier upheavals has not occurred in the wake of Vatican II. Why? A brief response to the why asked at all three junctures will come later in this essay. The Experience of the World and of History The second major part of this essay will include some reflec-tions on the particular types of spirituality that inform the inner life and the external activities of religious orders. Again, why? Because on such various types of spirituality which inform reli-gious life in general.and specific orders in particular will depend religious life's understanding and judgment of the times in which it lives and of the world which it experiences. "Spirituality" is here understood simply as the way an individual or a group habit-ually acts in learning about and loving and serving God in accord with God's self-revelation in and through God's deeds, especially the greatest of those deeds, Jesus Christ himself. The heuristic structure used here to describe a variety of spir-itualities3 distinguishes four possible ways in which they view the world and history in the midst of a particular time and space by the responses to this question: Does a spirituality.view or not view the world and history as positive means to express itself and to practice a growing relationship to God? "World" includes not only the obvious natural, material world but also human society and institutions. "History" includes especially process, develop-ment and change. In practice, of course, no one of the four resul-tant types of response exists in its absolutely pure state, and obviously in real life they all exist in. particular sociocultural con-texts. In addition, all four types are always intermingled. Perhaps most importantly, each of them is in itself a good. To distinguish them however is, in general, useful for clarity and, in particular, for helping us to see where our contemporary religious life stands and how we might be inclined to move to the future. The first response to world and to history says no to both of them. The second says no to the world and yes to history. The third says yes to the world and no to history, and the fourth says yes to both world and history. 172 Review for Religious Particular examples may clarify these categories. The first response, a spirituality that says no to the world and no to history, might be called an apophatic spirituality, one which comes to a knowledge of God by way of negation. This is the type of spiri-tuality often and somewhat misleadingly known as mystical, for example the kind expressed through such works as The Cloud of Unknowing, or through the works of John of the Cross, or more recently through some of the writings of Thomas Merton. It is important to note that such a spirituality does not necessarily see the world as evil or history and change as meaningless. Rather, such an apophatic spirituality emphasizes that God is beyond any concepts and that the most authentic expression about God is negation of any specific image from world or history. A person goes to the love and knowledge of God through unknowing or through darkness. In our present and our immediate future, in .what the theological essay describes as "the dialectic between divine absence and presence" (Johnson, p. 23) such a spirituality and the postmodern experience of God may increasingly find sup-port in each other. A second type of spirituality finds an expression of the authen-tic not in the world but in history, that is, in change and conver-sion. In saying no to the world but yes to history, it is a prophetic type of spirituality. For example, the Old Testament prophets offer both judgments and interpretations of history. Through his radical poverty, Francis of Assisi said no to the abuse of material wealth that his world of the early 13th century was involved in; in so doing he gave to the poor a sign of hope in a God faithful to his promises. Such a prophetic spirituality is often characterized by living one or more of the gospel values to an extreme. Such a spirituality surely informed the first examples of religious life among the desert fathers and mothers of the Egyptian Thebaid. Other examples of such a prophetic spirituality, in addition to Francis and his poverty, would be early Christians spurning the world and awaiting the call of martyrdom and contemporary Christians motivated by the gospel to practice civil disobedience. Today, as the theological essay puts it, when accepted "forms are breaking down, interpretive support systems, are collapsing, rift~ with the institutional church exacerbate the darkness, [and] many members are in distress" (Johnson, p. 24), we may have a situation in which religious congregations say no to a world that is passing and say yes to a hoped-for change to a more fully gospel-inspired March-April 1994 173 Padberg ¯ In the Midst of the Times future "in the risk that God is faithful in judgment and grace" (Johnson, p. 14). ¯ Third, what might be called a "locational" or a "city of God" spirituality says yes to the world and no to history. But here the When we seek a stable world and way of living in it or when we focus on a particular community or place or on our own hearts, we localize ideal, unchanging circumstances, bringing a changeless "city of God" dimension to our spiritual lives. world may be a world. Th~ authentic is located in one special place, in a world, geographical, psychological, temporal, theological, to the exclusion of other place's, with the changeless-ness that the fulfillment of that king-dom implies; that place then becomes a reflection of the kingdom of God. For St. Benedict it was the monastery as the place in which to live out the Rule. For The Imitation of Christ it is the safety of our own hearts where "you will see the kingdom of God come into your soul." For some it is the familiar church of pre-Vatican II observances. This type of spirituality may be the most common type throughout Christian history. It has also been one of the characteristics of every other type of spirituality and a force for stability in the midst of chaos, It may be an especially inviting and understandable spiri-tuality for those who have just come through a revolution. VChen we seek a stable world and way of living in it or when we focus on a particular community or place or on our own hearts, we are highlighting a way, or place that has worked for us. As a conse-quence we localize ideal, unchanging circumstances, bringing a changeless "city of God" dimension to our spiritual lives. Finally, there is a spirituality which answers yes both to world and tb history. This can be called an apostolic spirituality. To avoid misunderstanding the term and its application to religious life, let it be~ clear that everyone, of course, even in the most con-templative order, is called in some way to apostolic endeavor, to a life committed to the spread of the kingdom of God. But not everyone is necessarily called to an apostolic spirituality, a'spiri-tuality which seeks God primarily through involvement in the world and the transformation of its history. Ideally, such an apos- 174 Review for Religious tolic spirituality sees the world and history as a locus for trans-formation and for self-transformation. Most of the orders and congregations founded since the Reformation, and especially since the beginning of the 19th century, have been inspired by the ideal of an apostolic spirituality. But because the church since the Reformation, the Enlightenment, and the French Revolution has often made quite hostile judgments of the world and of history or change, this is a difficult double stance to maintain. One can easily multiply examples of church mistrust and con-demnation of the world as a source of self-transformation. And even if we have often thought the world could be such a source of self-transformation provided it had a different history or pro-vided we managed to change it, we can easily multiply examples of church mistrust and condemnation of change as a source of self-transformation, especially if it were suggested that change should apply to religious orders and more especially to the church. The way in which to give positive answers to both world and his-tory can vary greatly. Several of the 16th- and 17th-century Catholic reform reli-gious orders of women are examples of an attempt to do so. Mary Ward had a vision of such a spirituality for her Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary and attempted to put it into practice. But the apostolic group, of "that incomparable woman," as Pius XII called her in praise, was forced out of existence by an uncompre-hending Vatican in the 17th century, only to be papally approved in the 19th century. The Sisters of St. Joseph, of the same 17th century, quietly and obscurely flourished, in part because while liv-ing such an apostolic spirituality, they called no widespread atten-tion to it. The members of the Society of Jesus, for the end proposed to them by its founder, Ignatius Loyola, who could "find God in all things," were supposed to find the self-transformation of holiness through an involvement with the world in spreading the ldngdom of God. It was a world that Ignatius and his first companions knew by experience was changing and needed new ways of living and preaching the gospel. But it was very difficult to get across to many of the next gene?ations of Jesuits that both present world and inevitable change were to be taken seriously as part of a Jesuit apostolic spirituality. In its more recent his-tory, the Society of Jesus in its spirituality continues to seek for "the conversion of the individual," but it also wants to help "to transform the world into a fit habitation for justice and human- March-April 1994 175 Padberg ¯ In the Midst of the Times ity." In so choosing a double yes, it recognized the need to take seriously both the world around it and history, process, develop-ment, and change. In the 19th century, when the Society of Jesus was univer-sally restored after the French Revolution, it could not and did not For all of the 19th century, religious, life inclined heavily not to an apostolic spirituality, with a yes both to world and to history, but rather to a locational or "city of God" spirituality, with a yes indeed to the world but with a no to history or change. both the real successes wish to deny the world itself as the locus of its endeavor. It could hardly do so and be authentically Jesuit. But that world was in the midst of great change, and the church and all religious orders, including the Jesuits, were acutely uncomfortable with change and reluctant to respond pos-itively to it. In the midst of a world in which they had never been more active and thought they had an apostolic spiri-tuality, the church and religious orders were not only uncomfortable with that world as they found it, but also often nos-talgic for a past world and in fear of a world changing yet more before their eyes. In such circumstances, for all of the 19th century, religious life inclined heav-ily not to an apostolic spirituality, with a yes both to world and to history, but rather to a locational or "city of God" spirituality, with a yes indeed to the world but with a no to history or change. This fundamental attitude may help to explain and the real failures of the 19th-century structures and activities and spirituality of religious life with which most orders'and congregations lived until Vatican II. More gen-erally it also may help to explain the puzzlement; the ambiguity, even the dismay with which religious life looked around after Vatican II and could not fathom where it stood or how it expressed its relationships with the world and with history. Which one of the four sets of responses to the world and to history best characterizes the spirituality of most religious life today? When the question is put that way, there is not and should not be a single, monolithic answer. Fidelity to the originating charism and "to the spirit of the founder and responsiveness to critical and unmet human needs" imply and indeed mandate both 176 Review for Religious such a diversity in religious congregations and such an overriding purpose that, as a result, each congregation, in order to be true to itself, will have a response particular to itself, a response which at the same time will always look to those needs. There is a yet deeper question. Why answer.at all? Why reli-gious life at all? What was quoted earlier in this essay still remains the fundamental answer: "The only reason for religious life is the experience of God." It is not only in religious life, of course, that a person experiences God, but that fundamental experience, how-ever dark or bright, however tumultuous or serene, however unin-terrupted or intermittent, has to anchor our experience of the world in the midst of time and our responses to the world and to history or change. The Response to Need Let us return now to the three points at which the question why was raised, the three times in the modern world at which religious life experienced major change in church and world and thus also in itself. Just as at the beginning of religious life in the Egyptian desert and through its earlier centuries, so also, in the post-Reformation church and the post-Revolution church, reli-gious life was a response to a need. For the monks and nuns of the desert, it was a need to live out the gospel and to follow the Lord more faithfully than they thought they could in a society in which the Constantinian church and empire had made peace and had come to rely on each other. In the counter-Reformation century, religious congregations, of direct apostolic service especially, arose in response to the Catholic revival that emphasized a renewed preaching of the gospel (hence congregations for urban retreats and country missions); works of charity (hence religious commu-nities that worked in orphanages and hospitals and prisons); the centrality of the sacraments (hence congregations devoted to urg-ing the reception of confession and Communion); the outward expansion of the gospel to newly discovered worlds (hence for-eign- mission congregations)~ and Christian education (hence con-gregations that took on schools and colleges and seminaries and the publishing of pious books and pamphlets and tracts of all kinds). "Active" religious congregations, both new ones and reformed and revitalized ones, arose in response to specific needs, religious and secular, of church and civic community. As for the March-/ltrri11994 177 Padberg * In the Midst of the Times more cloistered or so-called "contemplative" orders, while they did indeed grow, growth was much slower and reform of the inter-nal life of the community was more the norm. When one asks why the apostolic-service orders grew so dra- When one asks why the apostolic-service orders grew so dramatically in the 19th century, response-to-need again seems the fundamental answer. matically in the 19th century, response-to-need again seems the fundamental answer. In Europe a shattered institutional structure had to be rebuilt. Many of the old and formerly religious educational and social institutions had been confiscated by the state, which was often at least determinedly secularist and often actively anticlerical. The second great wave of European colonial expansion into Asia and Africa took place, with the consequent open-ing of mission fields. Meanwhile the church in the persons of its highest officials and of .most of its members was determinedly con-servative and often actively hostile to the polit-ical, social, c~altural, and intellectual currents of the age. Frequently, then, European Catholics thought that only institutions parallel to but indepen-dent of the state would "protect the faith." To respond to those needs as thus perceived, new religious congregations arose locally, regionally, and nationally. Their founders and their members had maps, the almost unchanged Tridentine rules and regulations, expressed and implied and still unquestioned, of church and reli-gious life. They had the experience of present but traditional unmet needs. They responded, generously and heroically, within the boundaries of that map. They had little imaginative ability to see unmet needs that were new. But neither did the church, for example, in the case of the socially unjust consequences of the Industrial Revolution. In the,United States of the 19th century, the circumstances were somewhat the same, somewhat different, The rules and reg-ulations of religious life were the same as in Europe, but the insti-tutions of Catholic life had to be built up from the beginning, and, as the century went on, the building had to take place right in the midst of an immigrant flood of poor, uneducated Catholics coming into a vastly different and somewhat hostile environment: Here, too, the need seemed to be for institutions to protect the faith of the immigrants and to introduce them into American 178 Revie'w for Religious society. To respond to those needs, here, too, new apostolic or "active" congregations arose and old ones established branches in the United States. They too had the same maps; they knew from experience that those maps had to be modified, simultane-ously felt guilty when they did so, and were often unable to offer to Rome a theoretical basis for the changes. While apt at devis-ing new strategies in traditional apostolates, those congregations, too, lacked the imaginative ability to see unmet needs that were new, for example, in the case of the black population and the unjust institutions of slavery and then of segregation. But at least through the 19th century and up to the end of World War II and the assimilation of the Catholic population into the economic and social mainstream of American society, the active religious congregations responded visibly and successfully to the immedi-ate educational, social, and economic needs of American Catholics. At the third major upheaval in religious life, the one follow-ing Vatican II, religious were called on not, of course, to tear up the old maps and discard them, but surely to revise them thor-oughly in the light of:the council's teaching. But such revision is not a short-term, easily~done task. Religious life in the United States is still at it and, from an historian's point of view, has not been at it very long yet, not even quite a full human generation. For Americans, used to quick results, this seems both intolerable and discouraging. And the analogy of map ~revision can only be partial, since not simply documents but also attitudes, insights, and patterns of practice enter into such a revision. As for experience, the theological essay describes well the "social, economic, and political forces at work in the culture of the United States [as] contributing to changes in religious life" (Johnson, p. 10). All of those forces, even those least direcdy con-nected with the church or religious life, have been part of the context of our experience of that life since Vatican II. They have modified both our reading of the maps of the past from which we came and our tentative responses to the present. The imagi-nation to see how to put those experiences to positive use in con-temporary religious life is still in short supply. What we need most is the imagination to conceive of what we want that future to be. ' March-April 1994 179 Padberg ¯ In the Midst of the Times Something is going to happen to religious life in the United States over the next ten years. What will it be? Future History as a Conclusion An historian is really not a prophet in any of the usual dic-tionary meanings of that word. He or she neither "utters divinely inspired revelations" nor is "gifted with more than ordinary spir-itual and moral insight" nor "foretells future events" nor necessarily is "an effective and lead-ing spokesperson for a cause, doctrine, or group." But near the conclusion of these reflec-tions, an historian might urge on the readers of this essay an exercise sometimes called "future history," an exercise within which one can think about the future with realism and imagination. Briefly, taken literally, the exercise asks present participants in an activity or institution to write here and now but as if from a particular point in the future at least part of the history of what "has" happened in order to get to that future. It thereby requires the participants to imagine what might have happened and to select those things which they think most likely to happen to bring about that imagined future. The purpose, quite frankly, is to provoke people to turn their minds to the future decade. Something is going to happen to religious life in the United States over the next ten years. What will it be? That exercise in future history begins by looking back from the year 2005. What will have happened to religious life in the United States? For example, imagine the community of which you are a part enjoying in the year 2005 a successful existence in the service of the gospel, the church, and the human community. What characteristics describe that success? How did the com-munity achieve that success? Most importantly, what five impor-tant decisions were made by the community in 1994 to 1999, the first five of those years, to make it the success it now is in 2005? On what five things in those five years did you and your com-munity and the ministry you work in and your coworkers come to a consensus which contributed to making your community, its inner life and its exterior works, the success that it is in 2005? The future is in the present in such decisions. This framework for imagining and planning can bring us quickly to concrete details and can gently force us to face up to what we think realistically possible. 180 Review for Religious Where does one start in developing.such a future history? Perhaps with three questions: First, how would I describe to myself what I think my religious congregation fundamentally is? Second, what are the absolutely essential characteristics of its reli-gious community life? Third, what are the absolutely essential characteristics that any work it undertakes should have, be that work contemplative prayer or civic networking or anything in between? With the best answers in hand that we can presently give to those questions, derived from our present experience of the world in the midst of the times in which we live as religious, we might go on to imagine what ideally we want to be in 2005 and to plan what practically we can do to achieve that goal. Neither an historian nor anyone else could have predicted what as a matter of fact did come after the original Advent. What did take place in the coming of Jesus was a deed that was faithful to God's original purpose and to the origins of our salvation in the fulfillment of God's promises. It was an experience of God between the times, surely thus a postmodern experience in that it broke out of all past and present categories, and also a deed that con-tinues to be active even in the midst of times in the presence of the Holy Spirit in a world still "charged with the grandeur of God." That post-Advent deed and its consequences are the foundation for the yet unimagined post-Pentecost future of religious life. Notes ' Page numbers refer to Elizabeth A. Johnson CSJ, "Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God," as pub-lished in Review for Religious 53, no. 1 (January-February 1994): 6-28; hereafter Johnson. 2 Quotations from the Executive Summary of the study will refer to the text in Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6- 55; hereafter Summary. 3This structure is taken from an article by E. Edward Kinerk SJ, "Toward a Method for the Study of Spirituality," Review for Religious 40, no. 1 (January 1981): 3-19. March-April 1994 181 DAVID MARIA KNIGHT Vowed Witness in a Church Intent on Love commitments I spent several years in the confused and glorious hey-day after Vatican II writing and speaking on the goal and value of the re.ligious vows. Inspired by the theology of Karl Rahner, I presented them, in a nutshell, as the "real-symbolic expressing (and therefore experience) of response to the transcendent call of grace." In English this meant that each vow was a way of realizing, of "making real," both to ourselves and to others, the truth of the faith, the hope, the love we were giving to Jesus Christ and his gospel. Poverty is a "real-symbolic" expression of the fact that we have set our hopes for fulfillment and security not on material possessions, but on the riches of the kingdom. Real poverty, voluntarily embraced, is a way of saying we really hope in God's promises, we really place our trust in God. Celibacy is an expression "in the flesh" of our belief that anyone who accepts "the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ" can have with God, now, on this earth, a rela-tionship of love as real as marriage, as satisfying as mar-riage, and as developmental of us as loving persons as the most ideal marriage could be. One does not have to be a celibate to be in spousal relationship with Christ--it is implicit in our baptismal consecration as "brides in the David Maria Knight is a priest of the Memphis diocese. He is a well-known author and speaker. His address is Sacred Heart Church; 1324 Jefferson; Memphis, Tennessee 38104. 182 Revie.w for Religious Bride" who is the church--but the commitment to voluntary celibacy is one way to realize, to make real in flesh and blood and action, the truth of this relationship that our faith tells us about and to experience interiorly the passionate intensity of the love we are giving to God in Jesus Christ. The vow of obedience is a real way of expressing our faith in the active presence of Jesus in the church as true head of his Body on earth, and an expression of confidence that he is able to use us and will use us effectively for the work of the kingdom through the government of those who speak for him with authority in his Body. This was new. It was a departure from the traditional way of explaining the vows as means for overcoming attachment to pos-sessions, desire for sexual pleasure, and pride. The new Catechism of the Catholic Church, although it takes a much more inspiring and positive approach to religious life elsewhere, still describes the "evangelical counsels" as "having as their goal the removal of any-thing which., could be an obstacle to the development of char-ity" (no. 1973). I believe that even if nothing within us were an obstacle to the "perfection of charity" the vows would still be inestimably desirable as passionate expressions, in flesh and blood, of the reality of ourfaith, our hope, our love for God in Jesu~s Christ. Their primary value is not in what they remove, but in what they give: the deep, personal awareness (and witness in the church) of relating to God in passionate faith, hope, and love. I find myself now, however, immersed in lay spirituality. As pastor of a parish--a position I requested precisely to "field test" a plan for.spiritual growth in parishes which I have been devel-oping for ten or fifteen years-- I am fc~cused on preaching and teaching the spirituality of the laity as they are defined in Vatican II (a definition which distinguishes the secular laity from lay reli-gious): those who "live in the world; that is, in each and all of the secular professions and occupations [and who] live in the ordi-nary circumstances of family and social life, from which the very web of their existence is woven." Vatican II not only makes clear, but assumes 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 per-fection of charity." This, I believe, is the key to all the aftermath of Vatican II. Pastoral ministry has had to refocus.The goal of parish life is no longer to provide the laity with those services they need March-April 1994 183 Knight ¯ Vowed Witness in a Church Intent on Love to "save their souls." It is to lead the laity, all of them, closer to the "perfection of love." Parish ministry has changed from store keeping to intensive marketing, from a "maintenance spiritual-ity" to a spirituality of growth. Gone are the days when parishes Religious have the personal experience of committing themselves to total response to the gospel and have training and practice in living it which should make them the natural "coaches" for the laity. existed just to provide a preordained set of services, and the only stress on the priest was concern about providing them well. Now every parish is, or should be, a center fomenting desire for "the fullness of the Christian life" in all of its members and pro-viding the motivation, instruction, and sup-port necessary to keep every member growing toward the "perfection of charity." Now every pastor faces the challenge of dis-covering how to do this. And it is not easy; the paths a whole parish can follow to greener pastures are neither familiar nor well -worn. But the goal is clear: parishes exist to support that kind of living in their members which makes the life of every single one of them a "way of perfection"--a term we used to reserve for the vowed life of religious. The life of every Christian should be avis-ible, lived-out response to the first of all commandments: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your strength, with all your mind." Jesus' words "If you would be perfect." are addressed to all. To every one of his followers he says, "Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect., strive first for the king-dom of God." How does religious life fit into all of this? There are some obvious answers we need not dwell on, because they should be evident to everyone: Religious have the personal experience of committing themselves to total response to the gospe.1 and have training and practice in living it which should make them the natural "coaches" for the laity as the whole church turns toward this goal. Also, the "fullness of the Christian life" includes involvement in ministry, which is explicit in our bap-tismal commitment. There is no question about the fact that reli-gious, the majority of whom are nonordained women, are the most experienced and effective "lay ministers," taken as a body, that the church has ever known. In the historical context of what 184 Review for Religious is and not only in the abstract context of what theoretically ought to be, it is still true to say, "If you want it done, get a nun!" But there is another way in which religious life fits into this picture of the "new church" striving en masse for perfection, and I think it is something which must be recognized if the conversion of every Christian way of life into a way of perfection is going to succeed. Religious are examples and models of that dramatic ges-ture which is a key element in launching anyone into passionate relationship with God. When Jesus said to the young man in Matthew's Gospel, "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor. ," he was giving, not a command and not a "counsel," but an example. The young man came out of a legal-istic tradition. Jesus acknowledged this in the beginning by meet-ing him on his own ground and saying, "If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments." The young man was still thinking legalistically when he said, "Which ones?" so Jesus gave him a list. But when the boy said, "I have kept all these; what do I still lack?" and showed that there was something in him impelling him beyond a religion of law observance, Jesus recognized in him a kindred soul, someone who could learn what he came to teach. Then Jesus said (and now I am paraphrasing), "Well, if you want to live by my 'new way'--if you want to be perfect, to 'live life to the full'--here is something you can do to start with which will show that you understand what it is all about. Go, sell everything you have, and give the money to the poor. Then you can come and follow me." What Jesus was calling for was a dramatic gesture--something that would catapult the young man into another orbit of response to God. He may have been thinking explicitly of the gesture Elisha made when Elijah the prophet called him to be his successor: Elijah set out, and came upon Elisha, son of Shaphat, as he was plowing with twelve yoke of oxen; he was following the twelfth. Elijah went over to him and threw his cloak over him. Elisha left the oxen, ran after Elijah, and said, "Please, let me kiss my father and mother good-bye, and I will fol-low you." "Go back!" Elijah answered. "Have I done any-thing to you?" Elisha left him and, taking the yoke of oxen, slaughtered them; he used the plowing equipment for fuel to boil their flesh, and gave it to his people to eat. Then he left and followed Elijah as his attendant (1 K 19:19-21). March-April 1994 185 Knight * Vowed Witness in a Church Intent on Love Jesus asks all, takes all, is worth all. Why did not Elisha just have one of his workers lead the oxen back to the barn and put up the equipment while he left with Elijah? The answer is obvious: After what he had said to Elijah and Elijah to him, Elisha felt the need to make a dramatic gesture, just to show how willing he was to leave everything immediately and give himself to the service of God. This gesture was necessary, not only to win Elijah's confidence, but so that Elisha himself would know, without any shadow of doubt, that he was sweeping everything out of his heart in undivided dedication to what he was called to do. What Jesus said to the rich young man about "selling everything" was just one example of the kind of dramatic gesture which would show that the man understood, before he started to follow Jesus, what the terms of discipleship would be. In a nutshell, Jesus asks all, takes all, is worth all. What he offers is the "pearl of great price" and the "treasure hidden in a field" for which we must be willing to sell every other pearl, even everything we own. What he said to this young man was no dif-ferent from what he said in several places elsewhere. And essentially what Jesus tells the young man is the same thing he proclaims to all when he says, "whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple" (see the whole of this passage, Luke 14:2 5-3 3). Another translation miti-gates for modern ears the Hebrew starkness of "hate fath+r and mother" by making it "turn your back on father and mother." This puts the interior attitude into the form of a dramatic gesture again, but the meaning is the same: "Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And if you want to know you do not love father or mothei" more than me, make a dramatic gesture that proves it." Jesus could just as well have told the young man, "If you want to embrace my way, show it by leaving home; abandon your father and mother!" Or he could have used the example Matthew cites right before this and said, "Go make yourself a eunuch for the sake of the kingdom; that will prove you are taking me seriously!" Jesus is a teacher; he.is trying to make a point. It is of no concern to him whether his followers are rich or poor, married or celi-bate, living with their parents or missioned a thousand miles away 186 Review for Religdous from them. They can be living the "perfection of charity" in any of these situations. What Jesus is saying Ks that anyone who authentically follows him must be, in fact, total and undivided in love for God, or at least be consciously committed to such total and undi-vided love. And it is characteristic of human beings that we do not really know what is in our hearts until we express what is in them externally. As 'Karl Rahner puts it, "We do not know that we really believe in the two birds in the bush until we let go of the one bird in the hand." We cannot know that our treasure is in heaven unless in some way we renounce the treasure we have stored up on earth. And if we want to know that we really believe in the invis-ible God in our heart, one effective though rad-ical way to discover it is to give up the visible man or woman in our arms. To launch ourselves into a "way of perfection," we need to make some dramatic, radical gesture which says to us and to others from the outset that we are for real. This is what religious know, what they have experienced, and what the centuries-old tradition of religious life has demonstrated: To launch ourselves into a "way of perfection," we need to make some dramatic, radical gesture which says to us and to others from the outset that we are for real. Jesus Christ is not real to us until we take him for real. And to give up things which are very, very real to us, such as money, marriage, and independence, is a very powerful, passionate way to take him for real. It is authen-tic, it is legitimate, and it works. In the "new" church, which is consciously oriented toward the "perfection of love" as the go.al of every Christian's way of life, religious have the role of witnessing to the need and to the efficacy of expressing dramatically one's commitment to this love. Religious need to understand their vows as the dramatic expres-sion of their own intention to live single-mindedly--in "purity of heart"--in total, passionate, undivided love for God. The vows are a dramatic gesture, but a real one, like that of the bride strip-ping herself for the bridegroom. They are a gesture given daily-- every day, all day--as the expression of enduring, faithfully passionate love. The purpose of the vows is to focus our hearts on the person of Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ offers himself daily in the dramatic gesture of March-April 1994 187 Knight ¯ Vowed Witness in a Church Intent on Love the Eucharist--"This is my body, given up for you." He asks us to open ourselves physically to him, to receive him into our bodies in the dramatic gesture of Communion which pledges us to be one with him in heart and mind and soul, in the living of our lives and in the offering of our lives together with him, the Lamb of God, for the life of the world. Religious have understood for centuries the significance of this language of love. Whatever else they did or did not do, religious, whenever it was humanly pos-sible, participated in the eucharistic celebration daily. Those men and women who daily lived their lives in love, who daily gave expression through their vows to their passionate intention of loving the Lord their God with their whole heart, whole strength, whole minds, grasped without need of explanation the appropri-ateness of joining themselves to Jesus Christ in the passionate daily expression of his love in the Eucharist. Sometimes people ask, "Why is there no sacramental conse-cration to religious life as there is to marriage and priesthood?" Perhaps an answer is that religious ire not consecrated to a par-ticular function in the church the way priests and married people are; their function as religious is that of all the baptized: to bear witness to Jesus Christ and his gospel in the total, passionate, daily oblation of themselves. But religious, by their particular and different way of life~ do this in an explicitly recognizable way. Religious life, when it is authentically lived, is a visible, convinc-ing sign (as martyrdom is) that total dedication to Jesus Christ is possible, that the grace of undivided love is present and active in the church. Sacraments are "visible signs instituted by Jesus Christ to give grace." Perhaps we can say that religious life is "grace made visible in a total commitment to Jesus Christ that is a sign," In this case the sacramental expression of religious life--as of every Christian life which actually aims at the "perfection of love"--is the eucharistic celebration. Religious, who have .been called to make their lives a dramatic gesture of love, celebrate the meaning of their vocation when they join themselves to the dramatic expression Jesus gives to his passion, to his passionate love, every day in the Mass. 188 Review for Religious THERESA MANCUSO Quest for an Undivided Heart On a dark autumn night in Far Rockaway, the rough Atlantic lurches and rolls up the sand. The tide is coming in. Foamy waves crash along the shore, filling rocky crevices with a salty spray, dislodging, sometimes, the fearless gulls that perch precariously on the jetty's edge waiting for their prey, regardless of season, regardless of cold. High up on a boulder overlooking the surf, I perch myself, silent in the coming night, watchful as my three German Shepherd dogs dart back and forth into the water playing tag along the beach. A ripe harvest moon hovers above, the only source of light as the gathering darkness wraps the shore in stillness. Alone now except for the roaring sea,which seems alive in its noisy motion, we are sandwiched here between heaven and earth, time and eter-nity. It is a good place to think, a great place to pray. In this deserted cathedral of earth and sky and sea, I often find renewal for my soul. Solitude, silence, and surrender calm and soothe when I am lonely or afraid or when, perchance, I have momen-tarily lost sight of the vision that impels me. Many-splendored master that it is, the sea is both healer and challenger and the everlasting Face of the Deep is forever a reminder of human lone-liness, longing for God. Many years ago in the romanticism of adolescence, like many others, I was drawn and fascinated by the ideals of religious life and led to embark on a spiritual journey on which celibacy, con- Theresa Mancuso's article "Prayer, Memories, and God" was published in our July-August 1993 issue. She'lives at 448 Seventh Avenue; Brooklyn, New York 11215. March-April 1994 189 Mancuso ¯ Quest for an Undivided Heart secrated chastity, was considered the pearl of great price. For the crown of Sponsa Christi, the young religious was inspired to sac-rifice the heart, forgetful of every, human longing--not knowing for sure all it entailed. To the precious star of chastity we set our sails so long ago and far away, willing to journey through the per-ilous waters of life, armed only with faith and emboldened by the little we knew or understood about reality or ourselves. Maturity was far off, then, as we took ,.the golden chalice of chastity with both our hands, intent on draining it to the dregs. Time folded round about us like the arms of the sea as decade by decade we were washed in the flood of human experience from which there is no return. There is a solitude and silence deep in the heart of conse-crated celibacy, a surrender that echoes in the still point of the soul. Despite the changes time inscribes on the idealism of youth, it is a refreshing experience to meet today's consecrated virgins, men and women of various ages for whom religious chastity has never lost its meaning. Of their lives and their experiences, let us take note. The consecrated virgin is rather little understood and even less appreciated in the modern world. Nevertheless, religious chastity is still the sign and seal of the kingdom of God among us. We try not to forget where we came from or where we are going. There is something indelibly written in the human heart by the vow of chastity. Regardless of all the changing cultural mores in the world about us, regardless, too, of our own restless hearts, the unspeakable beauty of this vow is bound up to the essential integrity it sustains, the quest and achievement of an undivided heart. When those of us who vowed our lives to consecrated chastity long ago and far away confront the reality of today, who we are and what we. have become, deep questions await us. Have we emerged through the years with undivided hearts? Have we found the pearl of great price? Has chastity given us power to love all God's chil-dren, to nurture the world in the spirit of faith, to sustain great and noble friendships without losing the balance of a virginal heart? Is celibacy still our pearl of great price, or has it become an embarrassment to us in a world of sexual adventure,., excess, and casual alliances? Doe's chastity still shine within us with the light of happiness that shone in the promises of youth, or is our love for 190 Review for Reli~ous the celibate ideal so damaged by time and tarnished by temptation that it is long forgotten, pushed to the back of our mind as if, indeed, we had never given ourselves to God? Have we grown tired of trying? Have we lost our precious pearl? The.monk (monachos) or nun (monache) stands in the breach of the universe, a marginal person, monos-- alone. In that desert there is solitude, silence, and surrender, but there is also tenderness, joy, freedom, and peace, the gifts of the Spirit and the happiness of an undivided heart. To be alone with God in the vastness of time is sometimes frightening. We came to religious life burning with desire for union with God. The spiritual goals of enlighten-ment and self-giving called us to surrender our entire existence, everything,, right down to the deepest longings in the human heart. How shall we know if the promise has been fulfilled within us? Eschewing too much analysis, it is not with-out merit to examine ourselves with regard to chastity, for what we paid the greatest price for shall indeed be our sweetest con-solation. The reality of celibacy takes us into solitude, not once and for all, but over and over again. Every time we face the silent stillness of an unencumbered life, we recognize the act of sur-render (for there is really no other alternative), an act that leads time and time again straight to the heart of God. Along this way the saints have gone, and we may follow. Monks and nuns are not alone in celebrating the joy of the undivided heart. Many others, to be sure, in the world about us, have sacrificed sexual expression for the love of God, the practice of intensified religious living, the service of others, and the deepening freedom of the human spirit. Why be celibate in a world exploding with sexuality? Why be chaste in a society glutted by sensual allurement? Why refrain from instant and immediate gratification? The promise of chastity remains today what it has always been, an uninterrupted, pro-foundly unifying discipline of the heart, a calming of emotion. Apatheia. Passionlessness. The emptying of explosive divisive attachment. Our long journey-to God is a quest for an undivided The reality of celibacy takes us into Solitude, not once and for all, but over and over again. March-April 1994 191 Mancuso ¯ Quest for an Undivided Heart Chastity for the kingdom of God shines beside marital chastity as a vocation complete and magnificent in itself. heart, stripped of attachment to all that is not he. Kenosis. Emptying. But we do not strive to abandon passion in order to be phlegmatic zombies. We do not strive to over-come attachment so that we can be cold, mechanical people, devoid of love. Instead, chastity is the baptism of all our feelings, all our emotions, the freeing of all the power within us, zest for life, creative energy. Chastity is the focus of our vision on God,or it is nothing. Celibacy asks its practitioner to pour out its most intimate being, not into the void, but into the Total Ultimate that is God. Chastity calls for continual repentance, continual surrender. Metanoia. Change of heart. The surrender of sexual distraction and satisfaction removes from a human being those concerns about intimacy that. often eat up the larger portion of human consciousness and creative preconsciousness. The heart that is focused on God is empowered to love and embrace the entire world, not for self-satisfaction, but with gen-uine and authentic interest and care. Our consecrated celibacy should make us more loving, more caring, more gentle and tender, compassionate and kind. That is the reality of an undivided heart. To be all things to all for the love of God, unselfishly, with purity of heart--that is the joy of chastity, the empowerment of the virgin. When today the world scoffs at virginity, it acts and reacts without understanding or knowledge of what it truly is. Our quest for an undivided heart is not futile, not wasted. It is the journey of courage that takes us into the fullness of God's abiding presence, more and more revealed to us proportionately as we lay aside all that is not God. The whole point of celibacy is union with God, nothing more and nothing less. Chastity is free-dom from the pursuit of pleasure and popularity, freedom from encrustations of endless self-adornment for the sake of vanity or "sex appeal," freedom from uncontrolled emotion and undisci-plined desire--indeed, freedom from self in areas where self may be the worst enemy. We do not posit'the beauty of consecrated chastity over against marital chastity, but beside it, its sister state. Chastity for the kingdom of God shines beside marital chastity as a vocation 192 Review.for Religious complete and magnificent in itself. Monos, alone. The splendor of the celibate heart is not servile frigidity nor some holier-than-thou imagined adornment of the soul. The consecrated virgin is not opposed to the married; the virgin lives as ultimate marriage of the spirit. The splendor of celibacy is the quickening of abil-ity to embrace the world unselfishly and bring God's love back into it. By surrendering one's right to nurture one's own offspring, one is free to take the children of humanity into one's deepest embrace and to love and serve them forever. Celibacy is a font of energy in the undivided heart, a direEting of the life force to the Life Giver. We need never be ashamed for having made this choice--indeed, for having been chosen for it. Most religious have tasted the price of celibacy. Many have traveled far from the safety of religious communities in which the vows were made, those havens where temptation was kept very much at bay. Unexpqsed and untested, we thought ourselves pure. Later, mind and heart were tested by the real world. The promise of celibacy is far deeper than all the dreams 'and aspira-tions of our youth. Life has a way of sweeping away illusion. One by one we find ourselves devoid of excuses, alone in the wilder-ness wfiere we must do battle against the pull of desire. But God teaches us quietly with relentless compassion until we understand the vigorous truth of what it is all about. And then the years are gone. Single-mindedness in the undivided heart bears fruit in quiet happiness. One finds, after all, that God is always with us, his love underpinning everything we are, everything we do. All earthly delights pale beside the effulgence of God reveal-ing himself to those who seek him with a pure heart. Immersed in him completely, we are given a new ability to focus on the things that really matter. Nor should we think of celibacy as just a physical state. It is more a state of mind, a field of completion for the soul, a refin-ing instrument that fine-tunes emotion. Chastity with diligent constancy chips and chisels all the corners of the human heart. It makes us who we are, but slowly, slow. We are forever becom-ing. As the sea chips and chisels the shore, so does celibacy remove the dross of selfishness as it refines the heart. Not without pain. Not without suffering. But, most importantly, not without joy. I watch a gull swoop down into the waves, taking his catch from the sea. The small fish is caught, devoured, by the power-ful beak of the gull, for this is nature's way. Then the lonely sea March-April.1994 193 Mancuso ¯ Quest for an Undivided Heart Our quest for an undivided heart seems to take a whole lifetime. gull flies up out of the wave and is lost to sight in the evening sky. It reminds me that I, too, fly alone over the'ocean of life, single in the world, without a mate, for one great purpose, God. The gull and I are one for this single fleeting moment as the night steals on and the only sound in the darkness is the song of the sea. Two beings in the universe, separate and complete, starkly alone. Somehow in thavfleeting moment I come to understand why I choose .celibacy. All the props have disappeared since the day on which I promised chastity to God. It is very different now, the life I am leading, Those who inspired me have vanished from the earth in the sweet embrace of death or are far away from me. Our destinies, once so closely entwined, grew separate through the years. The whole world has changed, but the heart remains the same. Over time we face our dragons, such as they are. There is no exemption. Life batters the foundations on which religious vows are built. Suffering and sin touch everyone. The best we can do is to keep on choosing God first, for he has chosen us. To keep on choosing God is to celebrate the vow of celibacy for the love of God and for no other reason. To keep one's eye on the goal is to remain in an undivided heart. All along the way we just keep fac-ing ourselves, as we are, for better or for worse. Staggering truths reveal themselves, but they do not come home to us all at once. As the years unfold, bit by bit we uncover the truths of who and what we really are. Life insists that we go beyond the images, far beyond our misconceptions and imaginings. Sometimes it is a painful, searing journey. Our quest for an undivided heart seems to take a whole lifetime. It was not the work of the novitiate nor completed in the ceremony of vow day. The richness of the vowed life dawns slowly a long way down the road from where we started. As the moon rises higher in the sky over Rockaway, the dark-ness fills with a luminous aura. The sea quiets down as the tide rests inland. The dogs hunker down beside me, digging deep cav-erns in the sand to lie down in. Questions of celibacy have long challenged me, not just tonight, but many nights for more than a quarter of a century. Now, in this luminous nightfall on the shore, all inne~ rhythms find themselves attuned to the sand and sea and sky. One with the universe for a single moment, the burdens of a 194 Revie~ for Religious lifetime fall silently into the waves. Configured in stark simplic-ity, it suddenly makes sense, lt's all about an undivided heart. I did not notice the stars coming out slowly in the black dome of sky as the evening wore on. They twinkle now light years away, far above me. There they are just as they have always been. But I didn't notice them, not until now. Only now do I see them clearly, a starry quilt across the heavens wrapping land and sea in the blanket of their glory. The whole point and purpose of religious chastity seems suddenly at last so clear, so complete. The quest for an undivided heart. Through it we are called to create an interior environment free from the remnants of undisciplined love, unrea-sonable attachment, self-centered emotionalism, and the display of ego. Celibacy re~noves distraction from the undivided heart. One consecrated to celibacy still stands in this troubled world as a sign of the kingdom of God as the stars stand from age to age, forever. Gathering my things, I descend the rocks and leave the beach, dogs at my side. The stars are twinkling high above and the sea's roar is silent. Everything is still as the fullness of nighttime falls. The burden of loneliness is gone; commotions of the mind are silent. With renewed conviction I head for home, focused, for a while at least, on the pearl of great price that once was mine and calls me still to the undivided heart that finds its all in God. Vocation Poets and prophets Are born to bleed And orily lesser ones weep. To have heard and held in hollow heart a word Seared lips al~ne may speak Is glory enough--is glory indeed! Janet Benish March-April 1994 195 BRIAN C. YATES Imaged Celibacy: A Reflection for Priests This reflection on celibacy considers the imagination in e life of a celibate. To put the theme bluntly: Do I see and imagine myself as a celibate? Do I see my celibate self as a lov-ing and lovable man? The apostolic exhortation "I Will Give You Shepherds" (Pastores dabo vobis, 7 April 1992) says, "The gift of self, which is the source and synthesis of pastoral charity, is directed to the church" (§23). My query is this: Is the self that comes to mind in these questions and in this statement my real and true self, or is it in practice my false self?. My false self--using Thomas Merton's distinction--is what may be described as my mask, my shadow, my empirical self, the self I develop in my own likeness rather than in the likeness of God. I develop the false self to cope with the trials of life; it is the self I project and display to the outer world of people and experience. The true self, on the other hand, is that deeper new reality which lies hidden within me as the image of God, the word of God that I am, the new man described by St. Paul. To paraphrase Merton, the real I is simply one's self and nothing more, one's self as it is in the eyes of God. First, then, do I as a celibate try to work at making my false self celibate? Do I attempt to accomplish the task of making who I think I ought to be celibate? Such an approach is all of my own doing--granted all the goodwill in the world--and is prone to utter frustration. Why? Because celibacy needs to be linked not to Brian C. Yates, a diocesan priest, writes for us from Galilee House; 60B Blair Street; Bondi, N.S.W. 2026; Australia. 196 Review for Religious the false, unreal, pretended self, but rather to the real self. I am firmly of the opinion that many of us celibates have tried to make our false selves celibate. It is, however, only when we get in touch with our real selves by honest and true self-knowledge and awareness that we accept ourselves as created by God in his own image and likeness. We then accept the word of God that each of us is. Only when we discover our true self and discover the real-ity of God dwelling within us can we admit that our identity rests on our being loved by God who dwells within. By throwing off the hold the false self has on me, I become open to the gifting of the Holy Spirit. The "Come, Holy Spirit" invocation is a cry from the true self, not the false self. Second, do I image myself as a celibate loving and lovable man? I propose that celibacy thrives as a reality in our lives only when our graced active imag-ination never lets us forget that we possess it as a gift of the Spirit of God. In other words, if celibacy is not imaged as a desired gift, it will not continue to be there as a gift or in any other way. The invitation to image is suggested by Jesus' question "What are you looking for?" (Jn 1:38). Men who have been ordained to the priesthood have been so gifted because, over the course of years, they have imaged priesthood and celibacy as the gifts they are. The art of imaging is not fantasy or mental picture making, nor is it a means of escaping reality and life's demands. Rather, it is the way which Providence uses to get us into the real. It is the energy and power of one's mental faculty that operates through the medium of images, symbols, myths, stories, and parables--for example, the kingdom of heaven is like a pearl of great price, a dragnet, a hidden treasure, a festive wedding banquet. Imaging is a way of knowing--it is beyond mere reason and rational thought. When we image, we intuit and we use our feelings, emotions, and memories, without excluding logic and planning. In fact, these latter ingredients prevent us from sinking into mere reverie or daydreaming. The process of imaging has been aptly caught by the saying that "we tend to create what we love." Do I love celibacy? That is the question. The desire, under grace, to image is encouraged by St. Bernard's remark "The desire is the pledge of the fulfillment of the Imaging is a way of knowing-- it is beyond mere reason and rational thought. March-April 1994 197 Yates * Imaged Celibacy The image of celibacy has a life of its own, a life to be subsequently realized in practice. desire" and by Ricoeur's observation that to change behavior we .need to change the image. I propose that celibates will find their lives greatly enhanced by the practice of imaging celibacy. If one does not image celibacy as a gift to the true self, much energy will be exercised on the task of avoiding temptation, of coping, of excessive concern about the quality of interpersonal relationships, of asking "How far can I go?" or expressing one's sexuality in inappropriate ways, of offering up dif-ficulties, of living encumbered by suppression and repression, of merely tolerating the law of celibacy from outside as a technical requirement of ministry. When a man images celibacy as a gift to himself and practices a celibate lifestyle as a loving and lov-able person, he authors his own life as a free disci-ple of the Lord. Freedom and life are the results of such imaging and such practice. The image of celibacy has a life of its own, a life to be subse-quently realized in practice. As long as it stays healthy by being consciously lived, this life of celibacy prevents a takeover by outside factors. On our spiritual journey the passionate energy of imaging is aptly expressed in Luke's preamble to the Last Supper. Jesus' image is proclaimed: "I have greatly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer." This image, this desire, was acted upon by Peter and John: "Go and prepare our Passover for us" (Lk 22:7-16). The imaged desire of Jesus became a reality--it hap-pened. The Beatitude "Blest are the single-hearted for they shall see God" (Mt 5:8) further captures the imaged energy of the celi-bate. This blessed "sight of God" is shown again in the imaged and vigorously implemented desir~ of Zacchaeus to see Jesus. His running out in front and climbing the sycamore tree secured the presence of Jesus in his house that very day (Lk 19:1-10). Annie Dillard, in her story of the Weasel in Teaching a Stone to Talk, writes of "people taking vows of poverty, chastity, and obe-dience by choice. The thing is to stalk your calling., to grasp your one necessity and not let it go." If their vision has become blurred, celibates need to regain appropriate ways of imaging their choice of celibacy--they must stalk their calling. They must do this in conjunction with their own self-knowledge and aware-ness, their conscience and their value system, They must not shun 198 Review Jbr Religious the effort involved in such imaging and such living. They must keep looking in the right direction, in season and out of season: "They shall look on him whom they have pierced" (Jn 19:37). The Sacred Temple You will find your way by the grace of God over the broad dirt road through the merchant mob: the press of children selling holy cards, the pretty, gypsy girls and brown, drunken bards yelling: "No. no plaster., alabastert." as the ocean air fills with rum and laughter rum and laughter Scattering seagulls like failed prayer's fruit in a once quiet place the mob is upon you pushing, tugging, pulling at your jacket with old gum and bloody, sad gods of plastic their playfully wild dogs between your feet looking, whining, growling for something to eat something to eat But, then your senses blur. You are taken into, away, beyond the soul awakens where the bright sweetness of eternal Light consumes that crazy mob of our false delights where the Word of God draws with gentle bands and you know and are known where the birds fly home to the holy land. John Boyd OSB March-April 1994 199 JOANNE MARIE GREER Needed: An Ethic of Memories challenges In my current careei- I teach and supervise religious who are in training as pastoral counselors in M.A. and Ph.D. programs. Personal memories, memories of inter-personal exchhnges and relationships, are very live issues for these trainees, both in their emerging clinical compe-tence and in their own processing of their own pasts. This article is a result of my reflections deriving from my work with the students. Those reflections were crystallized by the following incident. Quite by accident I met Maria, someone who turned out to be a link to my past of almost forty years ago. I found that Maria was a close current friend of Anna, some-one I had known rather well in high school and also been with in the novitiate. I had moved to another part of the country and had not seen Anna since. Further exchanges ensued: "Well, do you know X?" "Did you know Y? . Did you also live under Mother Z, and what did you think of her?" "Did you visit such and such a place?" and so forth. Then my new acquaintance said, "Oh, by the way, my friend Anna is sometimes called [a slightly salacious nickname] within her community. No one will tell me the story behind it." With a moment's reflection on my part, I was able to supply the embar-rassing information, which came from Anna's life around age sixteen, When she and I were schoolmates. Joanne Marie Greer PhD is director of research in the Pastoral Counseling Department of Loyola College; 7135 Minstrel Way, Suite 101; Columbia, Maryland 21045 200 Review for Religious Later I was reporting this incident to Susan, a current-day friend. I had felt troubled by the exchange with Maria about Anna's nickname, but could not put my finger on the reason. I was certainly not jealous of Anna's friendship with Maria. Anna had not been a close friend of mine, and I had not thought of her in years. My friend Susan reproached me for telling the mean-ing of the nickname, saying: "What you remember of Anna does not belong to you. It belongs to you and Anna together. If Anna had wanted her current-day friend to know this about the past, she would have told her herself. Besides, when Maria tells Anna what she knows, Anna will be troubled. She will wonder what else you may tell Maria about the past." I conceded that Susan was right, and felt 'there was some deep wisdom in her comment. I continued thinking about it off and on for several days. I finally concluded that this apparition from my past had caused me to momentarily regress in my judgment in a way which I still regret. But it may be useful to describe how I reached this conclusion. In this way my medium--this article--becomes part of my message, that memory is a volatile and indeterminate thing. As a psychoanalyst I have learned the professional discipline of analyzing my own thoughts carefully whenever I feel troubled, lest my lurking disturbance throw me off balance in my clinical work. Initially I set out to trace my own free associations to the exchange about Anna's nickname and to Susan's subsequent reproach. The first thing I recalled was working in the novitiate of my order, and the secrets I had painfully held within. I then moved on to the memory of seeing the pain of the novice mistress when it got back to her what gossipy and critical-things the departed trainees had said about her to their relatives and friends. I had found the novice mistress a very difficult work supervisor, and I understood the diffuse anger of the disappointed, disaffiliated postulants and novices. I resolved, however, that if I ever left the order (as I afterwards did) I would keep its dirty laundry to myself. I simply did not want to cause such pain, and I cut off all mem-ories to guard against remembering and talking. I went so far in this that none of my in-laws even knew that I had spent ten years in the convent. Memory .is a volatile and indeterminate thing. March-April 1994 201 Greer ¯ Needed: An Ethic of Memories Another association that came to mind was to a recurring cur-rent- day announcement in my parish bulletin, inviting people to join a counseling group entitled "Adult Children of Dysfunctional Families." The invitation listed several questions. If one answered yes to these questions, the implication was that one should join this discussion group. I recalled that I always read the list of ques-tions with rising irritation and impatience. I am well aware that the answers to these questions can indicate a multitude of subtle or gross psychological difficulties. I also know that these diffi-culties are unlikely to be helped by ten sessions of parent bashing, however ghastly one's parents may have been. In fact, my experi-ence has been that such discussions often give persons with seri-ous characterological difficulties a new excuse to indulge in self-pity, instead of helping them to effect in themselves hard psy-chological changes. My thoughts then went to some students in my pastoral-coun-seling classes who seemed unable to learn anything abstract because their own memories were so enlivened by the class mate-rial. I had to work against the tendency of these few to turn the class into group therapy. This led my thoughts to my admiration for a student who came to me and said simply, "I don't want to go into details, but I'm dropping your class because it's getting me too upset. I'll take it again in two years, after I've done some work in therapy." I also connected my associations to my original contact with psychoanalysis. At that time I was aware of being quite depressed at the impending death of my mother-in-law and the illness of my young son. I went to my HMO (health maintenance organi-zation) for the twenty sessions of psychotherapy included in my employer's contract. After ten sessions the supervising psychia-trist threw up his hands and said, "Go have psychoanalysis. You spend half your energy avoiding mourning over the loss of your friends in the convent, so you cannot stand up under the pres-sure of the present. We cannot do anything for you in ten more sessions." I took his advice, found it helpful, and became so inter-ested in analysis that I ultimately became an analyst myself. So I had become a "specialist in memories," as a roundabout result of my original avoidance of memories! How did this con-nect to my indiscretion in sharing my memory of the meaning of Anna's nickname and to my subsequent discomfort? I spend part of each day listening to memories that are eatin, g 202 Review for Religious at my clients, my analysands. For their own personal benefit, I almost always discourage them from sharing these memories out-side the sessions. They would dissipate the emotional power gen-erated by private reflection and structured therapeutic work on their memories if they broadcasted them to friends and relatives. That emotional power would then be less available for real per-sonal change. Anger, grief, and disappointment are powerful emotions. In the psyche they are similar to oil or coal that can be converted to fuel, used as energy for action and redirection. Endless talk dissipates rather than concentrates this energy. But I have a second reason, an important ethical one, for discouraging people from sharing these old memories that they discover as we work in therapy sessions. Memory is a tricky thing. What we empha-size, and what we forget, depends not only on what happened, but on our intellectual capacities at the time of the event and on our ability to endure the truth. What we remember is seldom the whole story. Here is the advantage to keeping these memories within the therapy sessions. If kept within the treatment relationship, this potential discrepancy between past facts and current memories is simply more grist for the therapeutic mill. If we discover together a suppression of some aspect of the past, within the ses-sion we can very usefully explore why that bit of information was so carefully forgotten and what change has made it possible to remember now. The layering of memories is such a common-place that psychoanalysis has a special name, "screen memory," for a memory that hides behind it yet another, more traiamatic mem-ory. In a full-length analysis of a person with a traumatic but largely forgotten childhood, I have seen the "screen" layers turn out to be more than two deep. This constitutes an excellent i'ea-son for those in treatment to hold their tongues while continuing to trace the red thread through the tangled skein of their mem-ories. There is, however, yet another ethical aspect to the question of sharing a memory from treatment. Suppose the person in treat-ment decides to give a sibling a play-by-play description of the current status of the therapeutic work. Several major problems ensue, which seem to me to have important ethical dimensions. First of all, the listener may have shared some of the experiences What we remember is seldom the whole story. March-April 1994 ]03 Greet ¯ Needed: An Ethic of Memories in the recovered memories. But the listener may not have a ther-apist or other suitable confidant with whom to work through the feelings stirred up by these confidences. Even if the listener is a current-day friend who did not share the speaker's experiences, the friend .may have had similar experiences which are suddenly brought into working memory. In either case, this recollection occurs, not when the listener chooses and feels ready, but when the speaker thoughtlessly imposes this unexpected psychological task. This is one good reason that therapy per se is a profession and not a friendship task. Professional therapists have been trained to attend to their own intrapsychic reactions to the client's dis-course. The client realistically depends upon this aspect of the therapeutic contract in order to be free of the burden of caring for the therapist's psyche during the sessions. Moreover, the client need feel no guilt at all about burdening the therapist, because the client is paying the therapist to perform this intrapsychic task. It is the therapist's job to have recourse to self-analysis, peer supervision, or a resumption of personal treat-ment if a client's discourse about traumatic memories then arouses troubling feelings and memories in the therapist. To expect this same degree of accommodation from a friend would be exploita-five. Such concomitant self-care cannot be appropriately forced on a nonprofessional in order to make one's friend more "useful" in working through one's past. To force this task upon a friend would be appropriate reason to feel quite guilty. A very serious problem may follow the sharing of one's mem-ories outside of therapy as if they were firm fact. The uncon-scious operates by a set of "primary process" laws. The psychoanalytic term "secondary process" refers to our rational, adult way of thought processing and is roughly equivalent to "rea-soning." In contrast, primary process is the more primitive and imaginative way of thinking that takes place in dreams, creative productions, and memories. In primary process the part may be substituted for the whole, or vice versa; one person may be sub-sfituted for another, or one event for another, because of some yet unnoted logical connection between them. In dream analysis these connections can often be recovered by asking the analysand to systematically free-associate to each element (noun, verb, or adjective) of the dream narrative until the stream of associations runs dry. But in memories per se, often the missing or substituted elements become clear only much later, when the remembering 204 Review for Religious person overcomes resistance to a more accurate memory. The dangers of sharing the "interim drafts" of the final memory should be obvious. Terrible hurts may be imposed on the innocent. But suppose the memory is accurate and stands fast over time in the face of careful analysis? There still seems an ethical prob-lem in broadcasting such a memory. Memory by definition refers to the past. The persons in the memories have current-day rela-tionships with other innocent people. For example, suppose a sib-ling who molested you now has a wife and children. What good would be served by venting one's rage within the family and destroying the peace of the newer family members? One would be obtaining revenge, or at least emotional ventilation, at the expense of the innocent. Certainly the person who recalls experiences of victimization and exploitation has every right to establish a psychological dis-tance from the past abuser. But this can be done without sharing one's thoughts. Further, over the course of a long mental-health treatment or course of counseling, the analysand usually arrives at a position of compassion towards those who caused them suffer-ing in childhood. Even in cases of former physical or sexual abuse, the termination of treatment finds the survivors in a position of forgiveness combined with appropriate self-protection, rather than a position of vengeful attack. This psychological disposition is serendipitously not only more Christian, but also more life enhancing. As we approach the end of treatment, I have sometimes been thanked for insisting on the confidentiality of the ongoing treat-ment. In the heat of remembering, one may wish to confront one's torturers. But later, after the pain has been alleviated, an analysand is often grateful that some small but meaningful rela-tionship remains, for example, with parents who are now under-stood to have been pitifully impaired by their childhoods. After the incident of Anna's nickname, one result of my asso-ciative process was a new realization that middle-aged people who have been, or still are, in a religious order have not one but two families of origin. The usual past practice of admitting very young candidates means that many candidates completed adolescence and entered young adulthood with a second set of parents, the training staff. Moreover, the drastic changes involved in enter-ing a religious order could be expected to cause, and did cause, massive regression in many candidates. This means that, in effect, March-April 1994 205 Crreer * Needed: An Ethic of Memories they spent not only some of adolescence but even all of adoles-cence and some of a second latency period within the cloister. It would be theoretically likely that the usual mechanisms of for-getting childhood trauma, recovering it in garbled form, and feel-ing a need to work through it would be present When is a memory private, and when is it community property? When must it be told, when may it be told, and when must it be kept secret? in such people with regard to t~0 childhoods and two sets of parents. My reflection led me to include myself among those who had such a past and to recall that my main dissatisfaction with my training analyst had been his utter incapacity to imagine my life experience as a young religious. Thus Anna's nickname pointed me to a new task in my ongoing self-analysis. My second realization was a personal grasp of a dilemma'I have listened to many times from the victims of family crimes. When is a memory private, and when is it community property? W-hen must it be told, when may it be told, and when must it be kept secret? I had learned that this question may surface about something as large as incest or as small as a nickname. As in many of the subtle ethical dilemmas in life, there is no pat answer to this question. It is well to keep this in mind. Here a final memory linked with Anna emerged, and I under-stood another of the roots of my early resolve against giving pain by narrating private memories of my past convent experience. In this memory I was a novice, on vacation at a rustic seaside camp connected to a rural high school owned by the order. Along the length of the washroom wher~ I was brushing my teeth, there was a ventilation space just under the eaves, open to the cloister walk outside. Out on the cloister walk I recognized, among a group of visiting major superiors, the voice of the nun who had been principal of my school when Anna and I were students together. Another superior who did not know me mentioned my name. My old principal, who had not spoken to me in three years, remarked, "Oh, yes, that one is full of the Old Nick." My eyes filled with angry tears. I felt it was unfair to judge me at age eigh-teen by my behavior three years before. At that point in my current-day reflections, I realized that each of us is in a process of becoming. Those who have remem- ~06 Rwbiew for Religious bered us only by some static moment and then have passed out of our lives do seem to have an ethical obligation to keep their own counsel. After all, persons being impugned via the narration of memory may, in effect, no longer exist; they may be thoroughly different from the persons called to mind by the reminiscence. In any case, they deserve the benefit of the doubt. Participants in therapies which focus upon memories of years ago need to keep this in mind. So do ordinary folk, particularly as they age and their store of memories becomes larger and larger. Easter Lily Your bell is poised for announcement, green-white at first, the color of music not yet tongued. We have come to expect drama: spring's green entrance, the dandelion invasion, snow in the orchard, and those housewrens concealing their nest in the ivy-veiled oak. This morning you trumpeted six gold notes from your ivory cave, a fanfare for the resurrection from the dead. Avis Kunca Kubick March-dt~H11994 207 \~ILLIAM MOCKUS A Discipline of Self-Respect Forthose seeking direction in their spiritual journeys and for .1_ .those who journey with people seeking God's direction, how we use the word discipline needs to be given attention. Our assumptions about discipline significantly affect our spiritual exer-cises and practices. A few years ago a cartoon depicted one man saying to another, "Yes, I'd like to reach spiritual perfection as soon as possible; then move on to bigger and better things." Obviously, this perception of "spiritual perfection" relates more to ego achievement than to true spiritual growth. But, like most humor, what makes it funny is its nearness to truth. We desire to grow spiritually, but we are not sure of how or when the goal is reached. When asked what they desire at the beginning of a retreat or a spiritual-direction relationship, many people say a closer or more intimate relationship with God, a more faithful practice of prayer, or a sense of security around what they are already doing in prayer even though it may "feel dead" to them. Often, from what we have been taught and have come to believe about spiritual perfection, we assume that greater disci-pline, meaning greater self-control, will produce the desired spir-itual fruit. To pray well, we believe we must control our wandering imagination, our body, even our breath. We believe that, if we fdil ai' our discipline ot[ self-control, then we or someone else may judge our spiritual life, if not our entire self, to be a failure. William Mockus, a diocesan priest from Paterson, New Jersey, currently serves on the. retreat team at Bon Secours Spiritual Center. His address is Bon Secours Spiritual C.enter; 1525 Marriottsville Road; Marriottsville, Maryland 21104. 208 Review for Religious We have long recognized that, in developing most worth-while skills, some type of discipline is required. We assume, then, that living Christian lives "skillfully" must involve the "discipline" of putting the Jesus story into our everyday activity. But our image of God should not ignore Jesus' own activity at work within our lives as they are. Having such an image involves a different sort of discipline. Rather than straining to achieve a degree of spiritual perfection that will allow us to feel secure by sheer force of will, we need to seek a "disciplined faithfulness to our own advancing StOry." In the spiritual life the essential ingredient is relationship-- our individual relationship with God and our communal rela-tionship with one another in God. It is for the sake of these relationships that discipline is important, but only secondarily. In our growing-up years, it is important to learn some discipline, some self-control. Without "boundaries of behavior" for impulses and emotions, we would do much harm to ourselves and others. Good boundaries are important for developing ego identity and strength. For adults, however, it is a mistake to confine one's thinking about discipline to self-control. For people beyond young adulthood, viewing one's need for spiritual discipline as a function of self-respect can be more help-ful than striving after an unrealizable degree of self-control. In fact, spiritual (and emotional) growth may be more hindered than helped by too much of it. Mature Christians realize this. Increased self-respect comes from patient growth in God, not from aggres-sively building oneself up to self-perfection. Discipline for the journey is more a matter of trusting in the Spirit's movement than of standing tall or standing one's ground. We do not arrive at "spiritual perfection" as much as journey toward it in hope and faith. Here a healthy discipline of self-respect can prevent us from abandoning the quest for spiritual perfection in frustration because we lack enough self-control to arrive at some idealized point of our own choosing. This adjustment in our understanding of spiritual discipline can help us move from a success/failure model of spiritual life to one of ongoing progress. It is a call for respect of one's "true self" rather than control over one's imperfect self. The practice of self-respect, like most spiritual tasks, requires a real commitment to discipline. But it is a discipline that has patience for the grow-ing self's time of maturation and integration. March-April 1994 209 Mockus * A Discipline of Self-Respect People often perceive their lives as somehow overshadowed by what they have come to understand as their vocation or calling: the idealized notion of being a Christian, to be perfect as their "heavenly Father is perfect." Traditionally we have been taught to strive toward spiritual perfection in prayer and spiritual practices. Unfortunately, for us limited human beings, the reality of our many imperfections is often contrasted too harshly with the ideal. No matter how we struggle we always fall short of our desired perfection, and the ideal always eludes us. If self-perfection is the goal, the flawed reality of our lives usually confronts rather than comforts us in our spiritual quest. In terms of God's perfection, and our own expectations, we always fail. Nevertheless, thanks to the desire that God places at the core of our being, we keep. striving in one way or another to deepen the relationship with the One who is the source of all our desire. Yet, when we do not respect our own truth and wisdom, we too fre-quently seek some magical prayer discipline or some miracle that will deliver us from our failure-ridden struggle. If God wants us to be perfect, then more fervent prayer, or Jesus, or some spiri-tual director will help us finally achieve it--right? For those who seek "spiritual perfection," reaching the goal is constantly frustrated by human limitations. One's prayer disci-pline or acts of charity, one's responsibility to family or commu-nity, fulfillment of one's commitments or vows can never be as they should be because perfection moves as soon as it appears within reach. Considering what might be years of frustration in attempting to reach an idealized image of oneself, it is easy to understand some people's difficulty in determining how to improve their spir-itual practice or in ever finding the "comfort zone" of a commit-ted daily prayer practice. The built-in danger of a self-perception based on an ideal is that the reality of our limitations causes us to judge our efforts harshly, no matter how hard we try--unless in frustration we give up the quest. A typical response to what often feels like constant failure is grief or, worse, despair. In Vital Spiritualities Jerry Broccalo explains the distinction between a spirituality of the real and a spirituality of the ideal while recognizing the value of each. As with the rest of life, when it comes to our spirituality there is a radical difference between the ideal and the real. We too often confuse the difference. Despite the God-life within us, we are not God; weare not 210 Review for Religious perfect and cannot control everything in our life, especially its limits. A discipline of self-respect allows us to see the truth of our humanness more clearly. It requires that we discard the belief that our perfection is within our power. God is God; we are not. Our spiritual growth does not depend on our ability to control reality, but rather on our ability to surrender con-trol. ~ This surrender depends on our recovering what may be termed our "firsts." Making the shift from a discipline of self-control to one of self-respect is a matter of taking the right steps in sequence. One cannot skip the first step in the" process. We need to recover our appreciation of the first commandment, the first beatitude, and the first three steps of any twelve-step program thfit deals with addictions. Each of these firsts points to several parallel truths. We are not in charge, we need God, and we cannot control everything about our lives. The truth behind all of these firsts is that we are mor-tal and limited, as well as graced and saved. We cannot assume the power to judge or condemn ourselves for failures or wrong choices. Although we may judge an action or the lack of action as evil or sinful, it is God's domain to judge the person: Poverty of spirit, the first beatitude, requires that we real-ize exactly who is and who is not God in the human/divine rela-tionship. Because I know that prayer, exercise, and setting boundaries around my appetites are all essential for my well-being, for my "true self" to grow strong, I know that I need discipline, but not the discipline of self-control based on an ideal image of myself. Perhaps the most common temptation to idolatry is the ongoing desire to see myself only through others' .eyes. Butmy holiness depends on being my true self and worshiping the God in whose image I was made rather than a god made in my image. The discipline of self-respect compels me to do these things because .of what Christ has taught me about the reign of God within me. When I do not practice the discipline involved in liv-ing the Good News, I am being respectful of neither nay true self nor the gospel. If I do not pray or care for my body with proper diet and exercise, I need to look again at my spiritual discipline. But even then I have no right to condemn and crucify myself. A discipline of self-respect allows us to see the truth of our humanness more clearly. March-April 1994 211 Mockus ¯ A Discipline of Self-Respect Instead, in honest humility I can admit nay lack of self-respect and recommit myself once more to following the Lord rather than pursuing my idealized self. A discipline of self-respect calls me to constant conversion and does not allow me to assume divine authority over my own, or someone else's, failures. This discipline is one of true humility, and holds that human beings may not usurp God's authority. Maybe this is why the first commandment is the first, and the first beatitude is first, and why the same three steps are put at the beginning of every twelve-step recovery program. The first step is the need to recognize our dependence on God. The first steps in recovery, like the first beatitude and the first commandment, contradict the common belief that, if only we exercised enough self-control, we would pray better and live better and thus become more holy--and, pre-sumably, this level of spiritual perfection would make us more loved by God. This may be more a form of spiritual consumerism than a spiritually mature relationship with God in Christ Jesus. One may object that this type of spiritual discipline sounds too much like those theories which so casually justify the selfishness and self-centeredness of contemporary culture. From teachings learned in our growing-up years, it is easy to believe that all talk of self-respect promotes attitudes that are too self-centered. Admittedly, the danger of self-righteousness always remains with us, but it may be worth the risk to use the spiritual discipline I propose in the hope of gaining a more God-centered rather than self-center.ed view of what discipline is meant to be. The phrase "discipline of self-respect" may suggest imma-ture self-centeredness. People often assume that, if a spiritual dis-cipline does not involve self-denial, then it must be some form of narcissism. But such an ego-driven and immature sense of self is not what we are speaking about. We are advocating respect f0r one's "true self," as Thomas Merton uses the term, where the egoless self encounters the reign of God within one's life. In a conversation several years ago with Dr. Frederick Franck, I inquired about the Buddhist notion of decreasing one's ego desires and the Christian notion of dying to oneself. Dr. Franck responded that "first one had to have an ego." Before one dies to oneself, one must be a self or have what may be termed a' healthy ego, a sense of one's own true self. For the believer, Christ' is not only the image of the invisible God; he is also the image of our true self encountered within the reality of our lives, not in 212 Revie~v for Religious some unrealizable ideal. A discipline of self-respect is not self-ishness. It is a way to understand spiritual discipline as a call to die to one's false self-centeredness in order that one's true Christ-centeredness may be more fully realized in our lives. It is God's reign rather than our own that this discipline seeks. This call to be our "true selves" is always new and meaning-ful, no matter what age we are or in what stage of life we find ourselves. Whether we are young and need to control our impulses and urges, or mature and need to respect the truth of our real but limited lives, our spiritual discipline must reflect our experience of life and God. What is required in the spiritual jour-ney, if it is to be more God-centered than ego-centered, is a healthy and humble discipline towards one's true self. This disci-pline involves an ongoing quest for self-knowledge and self-respect and an openness to God's constant and loving call for conversion. If one's discipline of prayer or exercise or eating or working is to be tru!y healthy and whole, it must be balanced and con-gruent with one's true identity. It cannot be mere conformity to the images and masks we have held before us, whether these are images of perfect beauty or perfect sanctity. One's spiritual per-fection, then, is not a goal to be chalked up on a self-actualiza-tion chart. It is not a matter of self-mastery, but of self-surrender. The discipline of self-respect is a matter of surrendering to one's true self, encountered at the point of contemplative union with the God who made us just the way we are. Correction Do you know what the word KUMASI becomes when the spellcheck of a computer program encounters it? It becomes CHUMPS. Our apologies to the KUMASI diocese of Ghana mentioned in Susan Rakoczy's article "Charismatic Renewal and Consecrated Life" in our November- December 1993 issue, page 913. March-April 1994 213 ANNETE ADAMS A Transformational Journey May living room can be a cozy place in the winter. Making fire in the fireplace, watching the flames, listening to the crackle of wood, catching a glimpse of a spark breaking away, all move me into a very reflective mood. There is some-thing about a fire in a fireplace that captures my spirit and invites me to quiet. I began to think about images: fire, sun, wind, water, animals, insects. Since images have played an important part in my spiri-tual journey, I looked back to see what image has spoken most powerfully to me. That image is the butterfly. I began reflecting on the monarch butterfly about ten or eleven years ago. Did you know that in its caterpillar stage it can resist moving into the next stage? It can postpone moving into the chrysalis until the fol-lowing spring. This experience reminded me of a time I had been resisting a change in my own life and thinking of all the reasons why I was not the person for this new ministry. Why me? Why now? Why not someone else? I struggled for a long time and finally one day, too tired to fight anymore, I just sat and listened to some reflective music. As I listened, someone came into the room and told me of a wonderfulsight she had just seen. She had watched a beautiful monarch emerge from its chrysalis. She had never seen such a wondrous transformation. For me that was a very powerful moment, for it spoke to me of my own moment of surrender. It was not until I surrendered that I could begin to be free enough to say yes to what I was being Annete Adams SND has been a teacher and a formation director. Currently provincial secretary, she also gives retreats and does spiritual direction. Her address is Notre Dame Educational Center; 13000 Auburn Road; Chardon, Ohio 44024. 214 Review for Religious invited to do. Was this the beginning of another time in my life that was beckoning me into my own chrysalis, to a state of fertile emptiness, to a time of waiting, inviting a transformation? That image .and that symbol are still with me on my journey. I sit here now, in the midst of another transition time in my life, knowing it is time to let go, to move on, uncertain about what is ahead, and yet excited about what might emerge and bring new life and energy. I remember being on a week-long retreat and feeling as though I were a chrysalis. There was not a thought, a prayer, a song, or a gesture that spoke to me. I took a walk that day through a very quiet neighborhood and got lost. A monarch butterfly on the ground caught my eye. I went to look at it. It was dead. I remember picking up this fragile bit of creation, too beautiful to leave there, and holding it in my hand as I walked on, seemingly forever. I came to a park and sat on the grass, opened my journal, and drew what I saw; somehow it became a priceless gift for the day. At the end of the time I took it to a "safe place" where it would not be trampled on and then began my journey back. I remember sharing the incidents of the day with my director. I told her I could not even imagine why I was carrying, so care-fully, a dead butterfly. Her question to me was simple and yet profound: "Did you ever think that the dead butterfly was you-- the part of you that died, that is no longer--and that is why you carried it with you until you could let it go? I knew at once that the suggestion in her words and eyes was true. I had been look-ing outside myself for the answer when in fact it was within. As I reflected on this image later, I noticed near the fireplace a small sand castle. It had been given to me as a gift because of my great love for Teresa of Avila and her Interior Castle. I wondered if each dwelling place could be like another cocoon--a place of darkness, a place pregnant with all the possibilities of newness and a place of deep union between the lover and the Beloved--as it awaits its moment of transformation. Such a simple image and yet what profound insights! All this reflecting brought me to con-sider my own journey and' that of those on the road with me. I reflected on spiritual direction for this journey of ours. Have you ever watched the cycle of the monarch butterfly? To me it seems similar to what happens in spiritual direction. The journey is one of wonder and joy. The journey is one of searching, watching, waiting, mystery, and transformation. Marcb-.4pri11994 213 Adams ¯ A Transformational.yourney The egg of the monarch butterfly looks like a very, very tiny pearl. The Searching To get yourself a monarch-butterfly caterpillar, you would do well to look in a field, along the road, or in a garden for the milk-weed plant and then to examine its leaves and stalk carefully. The egg of the monarch butterfly looks like a very, very tiny pearl. You can take the leaf on which the egg rests and place it on a moist sponge; in time you will see a tiny caterpillar emerge to begin its new life. If you cannot find an egg, then you should look for an already hatched monarch caterpillar--with its eas-ily spotted black, white, and yellow circular bands--wherever it has left a trail of partly con-sumed milkweed leaves. Directees do their own kind of searching in spiritual direction. They search for a director who will help them unfold their real selves, one who will help them search out the truth, one who will love them for who they are and continually journey with them as they come to know a God who nourishes them on their journey. In spiritual direction directees search and find; they search and sometimes do not find; but they do not stop searching, no matter how painful it becomes. It is not the director's demand that makes this contihued search happen. It is their realization that God's search for them is much greater than their search for God because God's love for them is unconditional. The Watching If you really want to watch the monarch caterpillar in its var-ious stages, then you need to put the portion of the plant that the caterpillar is on into a large glass jar and cover it with some fine netting. The caterpillar moves all over the plant, continu-ally eating bits of leaqes, taking in all the nourishment it can for the journey. In very quiet moments, with your ear over the top of the jar, you can hear the sound of each bite. It is that kind of posture of attentive listening that is part of being a spiritual director. It takes many quiet moments to notice what is happening in a directee's journey. It takes the right setting, an atmosphere for growth, openness, and readiness for the jour-ney. The directees need to place themselves in a setting where spiritual direction can take place, to prepare themselves to be 216 Review for Religious receptive to however our God wishes to feed them with words, prayers, songs, or silence. The Waiting The caterpillar needs leaves from the milkweed plant every day. You can watch in silence each day for its constant growth-- watching it become larger and larger until one day it stops eating and begins searching for a place to attach itself so as to begin the mysterious and won-derful work of forming the chrysalis. I have watched for many hours in utter amazement at how care-fully the caterpillar walks around and around its container until it finds the place to fasten itself securely. Th

Issue 22.5 of the Review for Religious, 1963. ; THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Personal Integrity and Intellectual Obedience If only through what we may term'a nebulous feeling of supernatural discomfort, no thoughtful religious long escapes the knotty problems implied in his reasoned re-actions to his superior's directives. Sooner or later he wonders how the perfection of obedience could possibly and honorably require that he judge to be wise and prudent what he may on occasion strongly feel to be un-wise and imprudent. Some of the implications of this complex question we have explored in two previous articles.1 The interest shown in these questions together with the oral and epistolary discussions consequent on them have prompted us to propose several additional problems and to seek suitable solutions to them. The Problems Religious superiors, like the rest of humankind, usu-ally do not know what we may call the content of the divine will. As I type this sentence I cannot be certain that objectively speaking this is what God prefers me to be doing at this moment. When a major superior as-signs a religious to teach the tenth grade, he cannot be sure that such is precisely the divine preference for this particular religious. In both of these cases all we can know is that our action, and our intentions are good. At times we may be reasonably assured that the action we contemplate is in its concrete circumstances better than some other, but even then we do not see how God judges the situation. Does not our inability to know the content of God's will render pointless the whole concept of intellectual obedience? Is the subject supposed to conform his judg- 1"Psychological Possibility of Intellectual Obedience," R~w~w FOR RrLtO~OOS, v. 19 (1960), pp. 67-76, and "The Superior's Precept and God's Will," REVIEW FOR RELmXOOS, v. 20 (1961), pp. 435--41. 4, 4" Thomas Dubay, S.M., is the spiritua director at Notr. Dame Seminary' 2901 South Carroll ton Avenue; Ne~ Orleans 18~ Louisi aria. VOLUME 22, 196~ 49~ ÷ + ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4:9,1 ment to the superior's judgment because the latter is somehow expressing the thought of God when he com-mands? And if the superior is not expressing the divine mind, why should one try to think as he thinks? Meaning of Intellectual Obedience Before we wrestle with these questions, we should per. haps review the fundamental principles involved. And among them we may recall first of all that intellectual obedience implies the attempt of a subject to see the wisdom of his superior's decision. While it does not re-quire a man to call black white when his superior is manifestly wrong, yet it is more than an assent to the mere proposition that God wills the non-sinful act of compliance. This latter assent plainly is not a conformity to the thought of the superior (as the classical concept of intellectual obedience would have it) or even an at-tempt at conformity (with which the classical concept would be content when more is not possible). Agreeing that God wills execution of a given command is nothing more than an assent to a universally received principle of Catholic theology: God wills obedience to legitimately constituted authority. Intellectual obedience according to the formulation of St. Ignatius .Loyola in his well known letter (from which Pius XII said we may not depart) requires that the subject "think the same, submitting his own judg-ment to the Superior's, so far as a devout will can incline the understanding." And hence in the many matters in which evidence is not coercive, "every obedient man should bring his thought into conformity with the thought of the Superior" (America Press edition, ;~ 9). This doctrine presents no problem when the subject possesses a founded certitude that his superior is either right or wrong. In the first case his judgment is con-formed by the very seein~ that the direction is correct, and in the second there is no need to try to conform to what is obviously false. The problem arises in debatable matters, matters in which an honest and objective man will agree that there may be something to be said for each of two or more opposing views. Since the evidence in these cases.is not coercive, a religious practices in-tellectual obedience when he makes a serious attempt to see reasons ~or the superior's view as well as for his own. We spont.aneously conjure up reasons for our own opinions, and so intellectual honesty hardly requires much effort regarding this half of the situation. But we do not spontaneously think up reasons for an opposing opinion, and so effort is requisite if we are to be co~n-pletely open. While this effort should be made in our disagreements with any man, it is especially needful in the relationship of the subject to his superior. Because of the position the latter holds as a representative of divine authority and because we may presume that this representafive re-ceives divine help in the exercise of his office (not, how-ever, a help that makes him infallible), the ftillriess of religious obedience bespeaks an especial effort to agree with his thought insofar as honesty permits and a devout will can bring it about. When a good religious, therefore, receives an unpalatable directive, this third and highest degree of obedience suggests that he make an earnest at-tempt to see his superior's point of view whenever the matter is important enough to consider motives at all. Man's Knowledge of the Divine Will From the point of view of the divine will, we may re-call to what extent a conformity is possible and in what sense a superior may be said to manifest that will. A man's will is materially conformed to God's when he wills precisely what God wills. If God were to give him a pri-vate revelation indicating exactly what He wished done at a given time and if the recipient of the revelation carried out the command, there would be a material con-formity. In this case the person's activity would corre-spond exactly with what we have called the content of the divine will. On a moment's reflection one can easily see that a material conformity known to be such is usu-ally impossible. A man simply does not know as a ,rule precisely what God knows to be the preferable course of action together with the circumstances that should sur-round the action. A religious superior is no exception to this limitation on our knowledge of the divine intellect and will. Frequently the superior cannot know that this directive or that is exactly what God would like done at this time and in these circumstances. And if the superior cannot know, neither can the subject. Formal conformity, however, is another matter. It re-fers to the motives one has in doing whatever he does. A man conforms his will to God's when he refers what he does to the divine good. Such is the conformity that St. Paul taught when he enunciated the command that we do all for the motive of God's glory: "Whether you eat or drink, or do anything else, do all for the glory of God" (1 Cor 10:31). While we often cannot know the content of the divine good pleasure and therefore cannot be sure whether or not we possess a material conformity to it, we can always know the motive with which we are to act, and thus we can be sure that we possess a formal con-formity. Hence, even thongh I cannot be sure that my proposal to give ten dollars to this particular poor man is the best thing I could do with the money (God may 4- 4- 4- Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 196.,1 495 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 496 well know some other better way in which I could use it) and even though as a consequence I do not know whether my will is materially conformed to His, yet if a~ a matter of fact I do give the gift out of love for God I am sure that my will is formally harmonized with His. And this is all that I am commanded to do in the situa-tion. I am bound to have the right motive for whatever good act I perform. When all this, then, is applied to religious obedience, it means that a superior usually does not know the con-tent of the divine will and consequently may or may not be commanding-, in material accord with it. From the point of view of the subject obeying, this does not matter. God does will that he carry out the precept as long as there is no evil in it. (We must notice that in this prac-tical execution of the command material conformity is always possible and commendable, that is, conformity to that content of the divine will which has revealed that it wants men to obey their superiors.) Furthermore, the subject should possess the formal element, the proper motive for obeying, which proximately is the authority of the superior and ultimately the ordering of his obedi-ence to the divine goodness by charity: Suggested Solutions We are now prepared for the first of our problems. Why should a religious try to make his judgment regard-ing some precept conform to his superior's judgment when he is not even sure that the latter's represents the content of the divine will? How can the constitutions of some religious congregations admonish members that they should make their superior's judgements their own, that they should "obey" even the superior's thought inso-far as such is possible? In answering these questions several principles must be borne in mind. First of all, any man is bound by mere natural honesty to conform his mind to the truth insofar as he is able. No one has a right to entertain error. He may have a right to immunity from attack because he is in error, but this is not to say that he has a right to cling to the error. There can be no right to what is unreal. Secondly, in a'genuine difference of opinion between two persons in which difference the truth is not definitely established with 'an objective certitude, honesty demands that any man make a sincere effort to see the reasons for the other's view. Any man is bound to weigh the other man's reasons as well as his own. Any other procedure is mere prejudice. Hence, the demand of intellectual obedi-ence that a subject try to see that his superior's directive is wise is no intrusion on his human dignity or intel-lectual integrity. On the contrary, this perfection of obedience is protective both of intellectual humility and of integrity since it aids a man in divorcing himself from his often inordinate attachment to his own opinion. It opens his mind to other views and other opinions. Hence, this fundamental honesty by which we give a sympathetic consideration to the intellectual position of another is common both to the subject-superior relationship and to the ordinary man-to-man relationship. Yet there is a difference. There must be a difference. Otherwise, we could hardly speak of the attempt a re-ligious makes to conform his judgment to that of his superior as a distinct degree of obedience. But what is the difference? What is the difference between Brother X and Sister Y trying to look sympathetically upon their superiors' decisions and these same two persons attempt-ing to discuss a question of politics or philosophy in an unprejudiced manner? In both situations there is a pursuance of truth, an effort to maintain intellectual in-tegrity. The solution to this problem is difficult, admittedly difficult. And we frankly confess that we are not at all sure that our solution is adequate. We think that it is correct as far as it goes, but we are not sure that it says all that needs to be said. We believe that there are two reasons why a religious' attempt to see his superior's decision as feasible and cor-rect is something over and above this same religious' ef-fort to see a differing view in an ordinary discussion. The first "something over and above" is the supernatural posi-tion of the superior. While he remains a weak, imperfect, and entirely fallible human being, an ecclesiastical su-perior does occupy in the supernatural society which is the Church a position which is ultimately derived from God Himself. As Pope Pius XII rightly observed, the authority by which religious superiors rule is a participa-tion in the divinely received authority possessed by the Roman Pontiff. Therefore, while the religious superior does remain fallible, and sometimes sadly fallible, yet his dispositions and directions enjoy an ontological rank that other dispositions and directions do not enjoy. This basis and rank are the foundation for a new reason over and above intellectual humility and integrity why a sub-ject should seek to view his superior's disposition sym-pathetically and seek, if possible, to conform his judg-ment to it. A second reason is based on the relationship between the first and second degrees of obedience with the third, that is, the relationship between execution of the com-mand (first degree) and conformity of will (second de-gree) with the submission of intellect (third degree). A mere reflection on the psychology of obedience indicates ÷ + Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thoma~ Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 498 that the perfection with which a man executes a directive and with which he conforms his intention to that of his superior will ordinarily be dependent on his intellecttial agreement or disagreement with the judgment implied in the directive. Our point is not that the typical religious will not execute a command unless he sees its wisdom but that he often will not execute it as per[ectly when he believes it to be unwise or foolish. Our point is also that he will find conformity of the will, that is, really wanting to carry out this command, much more difficult when the precept appears to him unfeasible. A religious priest whose superior directs him to teach a course which he judges to be of flimsy value hardly throws himself ir, to the task of doing an excellent job with it. He teaches the course, yes. But unless he is a man of rare virtue, he cuts at least some minor corners with it. A sister who is asked to organize a testing program that seems to her ineffectual is an unusual person if she does not experi-ence difficulty in wanting to organize it. Because there is a lack of intellectual harmony between these religious and their superiors, harm is done to the first and second degrees of their obedience. This fact affords us another reason over and above mere open-mindedness why a subject should seek to see the wisdom of his superior's decisions and to conform his judgment to them. If our analysis is correct, it seems to follow that intel-lectual obedience is rooted in the will. The conformity on this third level is, of course, found in the intellect; but the force moving the intellect toward it is the will. This observation is not surprising when we consider that the "moving-moved" relationship is the case even with the execution of a command. The actual operation of teach-ing or sweeping is executed by the other faculties, while the moving role is that of the will. We may speak, there-fore, of obedience of the intellect because it is the in-tellect in the third degree of obedience that is harmo-nized with the intellect of the superior, even though it is the will that moves it to the harmony. There remains another facet to this problem, or, if one prefers, another problem. Granted that we have in-dicated two reasons over and above mere intellectual honesty why a subject should attempt to see his superior's view, we must yet discover what guarantee of truth can be offered that will justify the subject's conformity. After all, is not evidence the fundamental criterion of truth; and if we are going to ask a religious to hold a precept as prudent or feasible, do we not have to assure him of its validity on the basis of objective evidence? And if a religious superior has no divine guarantee that his di-rections conform to the objective truth of things, how can one rightly ask another to harmonize his intellect with them? This is no easy problem. In answer to it ~ve must first, remark that no one is asking a subject to extend the value of his intellectual assent beyond available evidence. We do not suggest that a religious ought to make a certain judgment that his superior is correct ~vhen there simply is no irrefragable evidence that he is correct, nor do we feel that the sub-ject should entertain a judgment of higher value than his superior entertains. If the superior only thinks that this course of action is feasible, surely the subject is not re-quired by intellectual obedience to be sure that it is such. As a matter of fact, the latter would be a difformity, not a conformity. We may observe, likewise, that in many of the disposi-tions made in a religious community neither the superior nor the subject can be prudently sure that a particular course of action is the most feasible. An autocratic su-perior may act as though he is certain that his decisions are the only reasonable ones; but this does not, of course, mean that they are. How often can one know with complete certitude that a given sister should teach the third grade rather than the fifth or that a brother should specialize in history rather than in political sci-ence or that a priest should serve on the mission band rather than on a parish staff? Many of us may entertain strong opinions in such matters, but few could offer in most cases objective evidence that one decision alone is reasonable or even the best possible. It would seem, then, that intellectual obedience frequently does not require a certain assent. But we think that it often requires an opinionative assent, that is, an assent that holds a proposition to be probably true because based on one or more solid mo-tives. Two reasons suggest this statement. First, when an intelligent man or woman (we refer to the superior) decides on a course of action, one may usually presume that there is at least one solid motive behind it that would found at least an opinionative judg-ment that the decision is a prudent one. Secondly, the superior himself usually judges his directive as at least probably correct; and so il~ he can find some good reason for it, the subject of good will should frequently be able to find it also. The first reason bears on extrinsic evidence (authority), the second on intrinsic. Is a guarantee required for the objective truth or wis-dom of the command? Must the superior in looking for intellectnal obedience in his subjects offer them some guarantee that he is at least probably if not certainly right in his dispositions? Although the two questions ÷ ÷ ÷ Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 499 4. 4. + Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 500 may look equivalent, we would answer yes to the first and no to the second. No man can rightly give an intellectual assent to a proposition unless he has some motive pro-portioned to the quality of his assent. I do not proceed in an orderly fashion when I judge to be certain an as-sertion for which I have only probable evidence or when I hold an opinion with not even probable evidence. Hence, a religious need not judge his superior to be surely correct when he can see only probable reasons in favor of the command. When the subject can see no intrinsic reason in favor of the precept's feasibility (and such is rare, indeed), he should either refrain from judg-ing it altogether or base his opinionative judgment that it is feasible on the mere fact that his superior thinks, it so. In this second case he rests on extrinsic authority or evidence. His intellectual honesty is preserved in that he has not made a certain assent, and his obedience is per-fect in that he has made every reasonable effort to bring his judgment into accord with that of his superior. A superior is not ordinarily bound to offer the guar-antee for the assent his subject is to give to his disposi-tions. It would be unreasonable to expect one in author-ity to explain his reasons every time he decides upon some course of action. And it happens occasionally that natural secrecy prevents him from disclosing why he acts as he does. Yet at the same time we feel that often, if not usually, a superior should spontaneously offer reasons for his directives when they are out of the ordinary or when they are especially susceptible to misunderstanding. would even say that unless secrecy forbids it, a superior ordinarily does well to let the reasons for his commands be known whenever an intelligent subject could not l easily conclude to them and when the matter is impor-tant enough to go into them at all. Otherwise, it is dif-ficult to see how the subject could give an intelligentl assent or bring his judgment into line with that of hisJ superior except perhaps by a sheer act of will. As we have just hinted in the preceding paragraph,, all of our above attempts to give a reasonable account the roots of intellectual obedience as it bears on the ob-jective order of things are directed toward cases in whichl an agreement with the superior's mind is called for. There are many cases in the ordinary living of the re ligious life in which the directions given are not impor tant enough even to concern oneself about a conformity~ of judgment. In these it is rather blind obediertce thai is indicated: the willed execution without any thoughi as to why the command is given. We hardly think tha, a sister who has been asked by her superior to serve a.~ companion for another on a trip to town should bothei about trying to discover the rightness of the request o~ why it was made. Such scrutiny too easily lends itself to pettiness. Our above discussion rather envisions more important matters in which a religious should know his superior's mind that he may all the better carry it out. How, then, may we answer the questions with which we began? Does our inability to know the content of the divine will render meaningless the whole concept of in-tellectual obedience? It the superior is perhaps not ex-pressing the divine mind when he commands, is there any point in the subject trying to conform his judgment to that of his superior? Man's inability to know the divine mind in many of the practical details of human lille does not render mean-ingless the widely received principles of intellectual obe-dience. The religious is not assenting to his superior's direction as though it were an infallible oracle, nor is he judging that it is the only possibly reasonable disposition of the matter. Precisely because we reject the notion that a superior is revealing the content of the divine mind do we dissolve at the same stroke that other mistaken notion that in intellectual obedience the subject is assenting to a certain proposition known as such by God. Rather is the subject merely trying to put his whole being, intellect as well as will and body, into a harmony with his su-perior, a man who takes the place of God for him. And this attempt at harmonization implies no violence to in-tellectual integrity for the simple reason that it rests on evidence, either intrinsic or extrinsic. We may conclude, then, that the religious who prac-tices perfectly all three degrees of obedience integrates rather than disintegrates his personality. He executes di-rectives promptly and wholly, and thus establishes a new contact with God who has parceled out some of His supreme authority to men. He wants to carry out the precept because he sees the divine authority in a human instrument, and thus he places himself in the genuine stream of what is. He attempts to set his intellect in ac-cord with his superior's, and thus he simultaneously maintains intellectual integrity and submits his supreme faculty to the divine order. And all this is done through supernatural charity. This is sanctity because it is reality. ÷ ÷ ÷ In~ellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 501 PAUL HINNEBUSCH, O.P. Requesting in Charity ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul Hinnebusch, O.P., is the chaplain at Rosaryville; Pon-chatoula, Louisiana. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~02 We are all very conscious that charity inspires us .to give help to others, but have we ever realized that char-ity also inspires us to ask for help? St. Thomas Aquinas was well aware of this. He writes, for example, to a prince: "Your charity has asked me to reply in writing to your question. It is not proper that the requests which charity faithfully offers be refused by a friend.'u Thomas realized so well that charity seeks help as well as gives it, because he knew from experience what unity in lively charity can be. Living in the golden age of the Order of Preachers, when community life was fully synonymous with life in charity, when mutual charity penetrated everything, Thomas daily experienced char- ~ty at its best. Charity was a mutual give and take in per-fect spontaneity. Those early friars knew well the spirit behind St. Augustine's command in their rule: "Call nothing your own, but let all things be held in common among you." In the thinking of Augustine, this statement applied not only to material goods but to whatever the Christian has, whether material or spiritual, whether gifts of grace or talents of nature. Augustine was remarkably conscious of the unity of all Christians in Christ, of how all live one same life together in Him. For example, constrasting his own intensely active life as a bishop with the leisurely contemplation of a monk to whom he is wri(ing, Augustine says: "We are one body under one head, so that you are busy in me, and I am at leisure in you" (PL 33:187). Because I am one with Christ, what Christ is doing in you He is doing for me. And because you are one with Christ, what Christ is do-ing in me He is doing for you. We are one body with many functions of one life. We are one mystical person in Christ. Elsewhere Augustine writes: "Whatever my brother has, is mine, if I do not envy and if I love. I do not have it in myself, but I have it in him. It would not be mine, if we were not in one body under one Head." x Martin Orabmann, The Interior Lile o] St. Thomas Aquinas (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1951), p. 9. In this unity of life in Christ, this one life in love, the mutual sharing of spiritual and material goods is love in action. Love receives as well as gives, love asks as well as grants. If the bond of love makes us consider that our brother's needs are our own and inspires us to supply him with what he needs, that same bond of love does not hesitate in appealing to our brother's love for help. Our appeal is based upon our love for him and his love for us. It is only right that what we expect him to grant in char-itY should be requested in that same charity so that both the asking and the giving are an exercise and a strength-ening of the bond of love. Our blessed Savior sets a beautiful example of these things in dealing with the Samaritan woman at Jacob's well. In His love for the woman, He desires to do her a service; but good psychologist that He is, He knows that her pride will resent His offer of help. And not merely because in her particular case pride will resent the un-veiling of her sin but because human beings in general like to be independent and do not care to admit that they need others. Their pride instinctively resents anyone who tries to help them. We have all experienced at one time or another the pain of having our charity rebuffed. And therefore when Jesus wishes to do this woman a service, instead of immediately offering help to her, He begins by requesting help from her. He knows how valu-able a request for help can be in establishing good rela-tions among people. Rather than give her pride an op-portunity to resent His help, He appeals to what is best in her human nature. Human nature was made for love. But love's proper act is to give. To win the woman's good will and love, Jesus gives her the opportunity to give to Him. He asks her to do Him a service: "Give me to drink" (Jn 4:10). His humble request and His need immediately wins her sympathy and benevolence. Upon the initial good will which she thus manifests, Jesus proceeds to build an eternal friendship. By humbly accepting the service of her love, He leads her humbly to accept His love in re-turn, His love with its gift of "living water" springing up into a divine love, binding her to Him in an everlast-ing friendship. This is the apostolic technique which Jesus teaches to His apostles. Christian charity has to be mutual, love has to be a response to love. From the prospective convert the apostle must draw forth some sort of love, even if it is only an act of natural benevolence towards him. Grace, seizing upon this, can transform it into some-thing divine. Since man was made for love and love's proper act is to give, if we would set up a bond of love between our-÷ ÷ Requesting in Charity ÷ ÷ Paul Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 504 selves and our fellow we must give him the opportunity to give to us. We must win his benevolence and sym-pathy by humbling ourselves before him in need. Love knows how to receive as well as give. Is not the recogn:i-tion of another's need a natural incentive to sympathy and love? Is not then the humble recognition of our mu-tual need of one another the best soil for mutual low:? For charity is mutual giving. Almighty God has deliber-ately created us mutually dependent upon one another that we may have an opportunity to love by giving ar, d to love by receiving, that thus the bond of love may 'be perfect. Therefore our blessed Lord instructed His apostles to receive even while they gave: they were to accept the hospitality of those to whom they wished to preach, they were to eat what was placed before them, they were to sleep on what was prepared for them (Lk 10:7-9). They were to be humbly dependent for material things upon the people upon whom they wished to shower super-natural gifts. Thus there would be established a balance and the mutual interchange which is charity in action. St. Paul's words describe the situation well: "There is a just bal-ancing- your abundance at the present time supplying their need, that their abundance may in turn supply your need, thus making for an equality" (2 Cor 8:14). Christ used this same technique with the disciples on the road to Emmaus. Though it was getting towards evening and the day was far spent, He acted as though He were going on, giving them the opportunity to urge their hospitality upon Him, so that by their love in giv-ing to Him their hearts would be prepared to receive His greater gifts (Lk 24:28 f.). Christ our Lord sent forth His disciples two by two so that they could mutually give and receive as they trav-elled to their missions, upholding one another in love. For in Christianity there is no room for the proud inde-pendent spirit which rejects others as though he does not need them, spurning their help as though he can get along without them, refusing to accept from others lest a debt of gratitude make him dependent upon them, carefully hoarding his own resources in fear that giving to others will impoverish him and make him dependent. How tremendously more fruitful all of our labors would be if all of us would work together in this humble charity which recognizes our need of one another! True charity is ever humbly aware of our mutual dependence upon one another in Christ and of our solidarity in Him; and therefore it is willing not only to give help but humbly to accept it and to give again in grateful return. For Christians must never give to others with an air of condescending superiority but must always humble them-selves to the level of the needy, in genuine compassion. "Be minded as was Christ Jesus," says st. Paul. "Though he was divine by nature, he did not consider his being on an equality with God a thing to be grasped, bi~t on the contrary he emptied himself, taking the nature of a slave, and was made like to men" (Phil 2:5-6). For the gifts of God, whether spiritual or material, are never given to us in order to exalt us above our fellowmen but rather to give us the means of serving Him in humble love. "Freely ~have you received, freely give" (Mr 10:8). If St. Thomas Aquinas always looked upon requests for his help as proceeding from humble charity, in humility he considered himself the servant of all in that same charity. For example, a young Dominican lecturer of Venice once wrote to him a list of thirty-six questions and asked for the answers within four days! Though this may seem to be an inconsiderate abuse of the generosity of an extremely busy man like Thomas, especially since the questions were vaguely phrased, nevertheless in sending back all the answers Thomas gently replied: "Although I h~ave been very busy, I have put aside for a time the things that I should do, and have decided to answer in-dividually the qusetions which you proposed, so as not to be lacking to the request of your charity." We must beware, then, of setting self-sufficient bound-aries about ourselves, saying, as it were, "This is my sphere of influence in the community, this is the work I will do. I can do this and no more, and I will accept no help in doing it, for I am self-sufficient within these lim-its. I want no help, because I wish to be independent of the need of helping another in return. So let us all de-marcate our spheres of influence, let us carefully portion out the common resources of our community life. This portion shall be mine, that portion shall be yours, and let us not trespass upon one anotherl You may not borrow my help or my equipment or my resources even in time of need, for at all costs we must avoid trespassing the 'rights' of one another. In short, let us kill all the spon-taneity of community life in charity." Religious who by vow have renounced everything, even their own wilI, are the last people in the world who should be insisting upon their rights. Is not charity a higher law than rights, does not charity break down the wails of proprietorship? Does not charity concede to others that to which they have no strict right? For whenever we have something and our neighbor is in true need of it, then it is no longer our own but his. It is not his in justice, but in charity. He cannot demand it of us--unless he is in dire necessity--but he can humbly ask it in love, and we grant it in love. We owe it to him + + + Requesting in Charity VOLUME 22, 1963 505 Paul Hinn~bu~ch, O.P. REVIEW FOR REL|G~OU$ in the charity which makes all of us one body under one Head. And yet, there is order in charity. For though what I~ have is given me by God not just for myself but for the service of others in Christ, yet I must use and distribute what I have in an orderly way, using it for the appointed purposes in community life. If I am called upon to de-vote some of my time or my resources in giving emer-geny help to another so that my appointed tasks may seem thereby to suffer, rather than stifle charity's eager-hess to help I entrust my own affairs to divine providence while I attend to the immediate needs of my neighbor. On the other hand, the common ownership of all things in community life, in this one body under one Head in charity, does not justify any one member or group of members o[ the religious community in appro-priating an unjust share of the common resources, taking more than should be alloted when distribution is made to each according to his need. If resources are unjustly appropriated in this way, even the charity of those who are unjustly deprived cannot approve of the injustice, though they may have to endure it in patience. Even charity cannot approve of the injustice, for charity is obliged to love the common good and cannot permit this harmful swelling of one member at the expense of an-other. We cannot appeal, then, to the fact that we are one body under one Head to justify any highhanded appro-priating of the common resources. What my neighbor has is mine, what the community has is mine, but only in the friendship of charity. I have only love's rights to these things. And therefore only in humble charity may !1. re-quest more than is already allotted to me. Only mutual charity makes what is his mine and what is mine his. Charity never demands, charity humbly asks. And when she has received, in due course she makes a grateful re-turn. Everyone who is generous in fulfilling the law of char-ity and is ever eager to be at the service of others sooner or later runs into those who abuse his generosity by mak-ing, in the name of charity, requests which charity has no right to make. There will be those who will use the main point of this article as an excuse for imposing upon others, saying, "I request this in charity, so in charity you may not refuse me." Are there situations when we may refuse requests for help without violating charity? At first sight it would seem not, for our Lord says, "Give to everyone who asks of you" (Lk 6:30). However, our Lord never asks the im-possible. There are times when one is so laden with other duties of justice and charity that he cannot possibly ful-fill a request for help. But in a case like this, charity must know how to say "No." "There is always a way of refus-ing so graciously," says the Little Flower, "that the re-fusal affords as much pleasure as the gift itself would have." Lest we abuse charity's rigl~t to ask help, we must al-ways be very considerate of those of whom we ask help. We should not ask a generous person for his help when we could do the things ourselves easily enough. For if the one we ask is really charitable and generous, then we can be sure he already has more than enough to do, for every-one is asking his help. We must take care never to ask un-necessarily or selfishly. If we really do not need help and the person we ask sees that this is so, then he is not uncharitable in refusing us. In this case a work of charity is not called for, since by definition a work of mercy is aid given to one who has true need. Furthermore, a busy religious has to be dis-criminating in the works of charity he undertakes. Since it is impossible for him to do everything, he does not violate charity if he makes a prudent choice about whom he is to help or about the type of aid he is to give; for as we have said, there is an order of charity. No one is obliged to sacrifice the greater works of charity and jus-tice to aid someone who would abuse his charity. Even in refusing a request which charity has no right to make, we must be charitable in our manner of refus-ing. One must patiently bear with the fault of the one who seeks to impose upon him. Likewise, we must be careful in judging whether or not a person really is abus-ing charity's rights to ask. Ordinarily we ought to pre-sume that the bond of charity lies at the basis of all re-quests for our help. If we may refuse help to those who are uncharitably inconsiderate in the requests they make of us, on the other hand we should anticipate the needs of those whose charity is so considerate of us that they hesitate to ask our help lest they unduly burden us. If, when necessary, charity knows how to refuse help in a gracious way, true charity is also always gracious in its manner of giving help. If our consent to help another is grudging and ungracious, we deal him an uncharitable blow even as we help him, for we humiliate him by our attitude. My son, to your charity add no reproach, nor spoil any gift by harsh words! Like clew that abates a burning so does a word improve a gift. ÷ ÷ + Requesting in Charity VOLUME 22~ 1965 5O7 Sometimes the word means more than the gift; both are offered by a kindly man. Only a fool upbraids before giving: a grudging gift wears out the expectant eyes (Sir 18:14-17). "The word means more than the gift" because the gen-uine charity behind the asking and the giving, the giving and the receiving, is the one thing precious above all else. 4- 4- 4- Paul Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ANTONIO ROSMINI Three Q estions on the Spiritual Life [Antonio Rosmini, 1797-1855, was one of the great figures of the Church in the nineteenth century. Besides founding the Rosminian Fathers (the Institute of Charity), he also founded the Sisters of Providence (the Rosminian Sisters). As the founder of the sisters, he was naturally solicitous for their spiritual progress and advancement. The Review is happy to present here a translation of a letter :from Father Rosmini to the members of the Sisters of Providence in England on three important matters of the spiritual life. The translation has been made by the Reverend Denis Cleary, I.C.; Saint Mary's; Derrys Wood; Wonersh; Guildford, Surrey; England.] Stresa~ September 24, 1850 Dear Daughters in Christ, I would not wish you to judge my charity towards you by the number of letters which you receive from me. The Lord knows that I have you in my heart and that I offer you to Him every day on the altar. If I write infrequently, attribute this to my weakness and to the fact that I know you have a superior who is full of zeal for your growth in Jesus Christ. Nevertheless, now that this superior of yours, and my dear brother in Christ, is returning to you after his journey to Italy, I cannot but send with him a letter which will serve to thank you for the gifts which you have sent me in your charity as a sign of your devo-tion and in which I shall answer those three important questions which you sent to me. I answer these questions because, although I know that you could have the same answers from your immediate superior who is full of wisdom and the spirit of God, I think that hearing the same things from me, as you desire and ask, will give you consolation and strength in doing good because of that affection and obedience which you grant me in Christ Jesus. It is for this reason that I write, not necessarily for your greater instruction. The first question which you ask me is this: "How can one use a spirit of intelligence without falling away from simple and blind obedience?" ÷ Three Questions VOLUME 22, 1963 + 4. ÷ ¯ 4ntonlo Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS This question and the other two which follow show your spiritual discernment becau.se they manifest your de-sire for instruction in the most perfect things. Perfec-tion demands that we know how to join and harmonize in our daily actions those virtues which, at first sight., seem opposed and even, perhaps, to exclude one another reciprocally. In fact, although no virtue can ever truly be opposed to another, just as no truth can be opposed to another truth, there is an art in uniting harmoniously those virtues which belong to faculties and passions which have contrary tendencies. When possessed by a per-fect man these faculties and passions come together in an orderly way. Knowing how to bring them together, there-fore, belongs to the study of that perfection to which we are consecrated. The person who seeks for perfection is rather like a composer who knows how to blend the voices of contralto, baritone, and bass. Coming now to your que.,stion, I say that simple and blind obedience can be joined with a spirit of intelli-gence and that this can be done in various ways. The First Way. It must be realised that the higher and the more universal the reason which governs our actions, the greater the use we make of a spirit of intelligence. Acting with a spirit of intelligence only means acting ~c-cording to reason without allowing ourselves to be moved or disturbed by any passion whatsoever. Now the highest and most universal of all reasons for acting is that of doing in everything the will of God (I expect you have seen what I have written on this matter and have also read it). But he who obeys with simplicity and purity is certain of doing the will of God who has said concerning ecclesiastical superiors: "He who hears you hears me." This is a simple but efficacious and sublime reason for acting. It contains so much good in itself that, when it is present, it renders every other reason superfluous. So you see that although obedience is called blind this is not because it is without light but because it has so much light that it does not need to take it from elsewhere. It is as though a man is said to be without light because he does not light candles when the sun shines. The Second Way. Besides this, he who obeys blindly and simply can use his spirit of intelligence in the way in which he carries out what he has been commanded. Two persons carry out a command of their superior: one of them does it without reflection, without attention, without putting his heart into the work, without think-ing of what he has been told, without endeavoring to understand what has been commanded; the other does the same work trying to know, first of all, what his supe-riot's intention was, then endeavoring to carry out that intention in the best way possible as if it were his very own. The former, you see, acts without conviction and almost in spite of himself. The other performs his duty willingly; he desires to succeed; he finds his happiness in this work since he is certain of pleasing God. The latter obeys both with simplicity and with a spirit of intelli-gence, like a living and intelligent person, not like a machine. It is obviously impossible for the superior, when he commands, to mention in detail all those things which concern the way in which the order, is to be carried out. He gives the command and then leaves the subject to carry it out. The subject who has the greater spirit of intelligence can be known immediately through observa-tion of the manner in which he carries out his duty. The Third Way. It often happens that the command is more or less general and that many things are left to the common sense of the one who receives it. In this case, the subject must be careful to note the sphere of action de-termined for him by the command of his stiperior. Within that sphere he is obliged by obedience itself to work in a personal manner, not capriciously, 9[ course, but according to sound judgment, that is to say, with a spirit of intelligence. If you consider the different members of a religious congregation, you will see that they all act through obe-dience, even the general of the order because he is subject to the pope at least. Nevertheless, obedience leaves a more or less free field to the details of their obedience. .Superiors have greater scope in this respect than subjects. According to his position, each one can .and must make use of his spirit of intelligence. In your own house, you begin from the central superior and you go down through all the other offices, each of which is subordinate to the one above and so directed by obedience. Nevertheless, all the work has to be carried out with a spirit of intelli-gence. Everyone has to use this spirit in so far as obedi-ence leaves the matter to her discretion. Take another example, a teacher or a nurse, for in-stance. Obedience imposes this work, and so the merit of obedience is present. But what a great deal of intelligent application is needed to carry it out perfectlyl And if you consider even particular commands, you will find that the greater part of them leaves some liberty where one's own intelligence can be used. For instance, you have to write a letter and have even been told in general what to write. Is it not still necessary to think carefully about the way in which the matter is to be expressed? Obedience, therefore, never determines all the actions which a person does--that would be impossible. Many commands give scope, and great scope, to the exercise of personal initia-tive. + + + Three Questions VOLUME 22~ 196~ ~ntonlo Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Fourth Way. This concerns the observations which we make respectfully to our superiors about the commands they give us. These observations are perfectly lawful, but in order to make them with a true spirit of intelligence three conditions are required: first, that these observations spring simply from zeal for good and t.he glory of God, not from any self-interest; second, that they are not made lightly--in a word, that we do not say the first thing that comes into our head without having re-flected upon the matter; third, that they are made in spirit of submission so that if the superior insists upon his command the subject does not sulk but does what he is told with alacrity and joy. If the matter has great importance for the glory of God and it seems that what is commanded by the superior is not the right course, one can have recourse to a higher superior. This is not contrary to the simplicity of obedi-ence provided that the three conditions mentioned are put Jr;to practice. Superiors like to hear the observations of their subjects provided that these are offered in a spirit of charity and humility. If after all this it happens that what has to be done and what is done for obedience leads to some harmful effect (provided, of course, one is not treating of sin), the one who obeys has lost nothing. On the contrary, he gains because his act of obedience con-tains a mortification which is most pleasing to God. The man who mortifies himself in order to obey has taken great step forward on the road to sanctity both because he has denied his own will and because he has sacrificed his selblove and submitted his reason to a greater reason, God's very own, from which the command comes. That is suflacient for the first question. The second question is this: "How can one unite prac-tically the spirit of contemplation to an active life en-gaged in works of charity?" Since the union of holy contemplation with the exer-cise of works of charity is the aim of our congregation, follows that we must not be satisfied until we have ob-tained from God the light to join these two things in our-selves. I say that we must obtain from God the power of uniting contemplation and action in our life because the' only master who can teach us such a sublime science is, Jesus Christ Himself who gave us a most perfect example' of it. You see, this science consists in nothing else but' union, and the closest possible union, with Jesus Christ. In His mercy He has already prepared in His Church the' means necessary for this union. Even before we were born or knew how to desire them, these means were made' ready for us. What are these means, then, which enablel us to obtain this intimate and continually actuated union~ with Jesus Christ, this union which does not distract us from works of external charity but, on the contrary, im-pels us towards them and helps us to implement them? The first among them is the pure and simple intention of seeking Jesus Christ alone in all our thoughts, works, and actions. This uprightness of intention is harmed to a greater or less degree by any other affection which influ-ences our actions. It follows that our intention of seeking in everything Jesus Christ alone is not perfect if we have not given up self-love and sensuality entirely. I said, how-ever, that that intention which seeks Jesus Christ alone in everything is hurt by every affection which influences our internal or external actions because an affection or sensation which has no influence on our voluntary thoughts or words or actions (in which case the affection or sensation is entirely opposed by our will) in no way diminishes the purity of our intention. On the contrary, it gives it scope and increases it according to those words of God to St. Paul: "Virtue is made perfect in tribula-tion." The second means, which serves to help the first, con-sists in carrying out all our exercises of piety, and espe-cially our reception of the sacraments and our assistance at Mass, with the greatest possible fervor, tenderness, gratitude, sincerity, and intelligence. It is especially in these two acts of devotion that there is loving union be-tween Jesus Christ and the devout soul. The third means is that of endeavoring continually to keep alive the love of Jesus Christ in our hearts by hold-ing Him present, painted, as it were, before the eyes of the soul. We have to hear His words as they are recorded in the Gospel; we have to consider the actions which He performed during His mortal life and at the moment of His precious death (all these actions should be familiar to a spiritual person); we must apply His words and His example to ourselves and to all that we have to do; we must ask how He would act in our case and how He wishes us to act; when we are in doubt we should take advice, desiring sincerely to know and to do what is most perfect and is most pleasing to Him; we must listen to His voice with reverence and love when He speaks within US. The fourth means is that of beholding Jesus Christ in our neighbor. Whenever we have contact with our neigh-bor, we must endeavor to be of use to him in Jesus Christ and receive from him edification for ourselves. If we have a great zeal for the salvation of souls, we shall do every-thing in our power to win them and to bringlthem close to Jesus Christ. At the same time, we will wage war on useless and idle words and upon superfluous conversa-tioHnso awnedv vear,i nin c uorridoesrit yto. direct our every wo|rd/and work + 4. 4. Three Questions VOLUME 22, 1963 Antonio Rosrnini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to the betterment of others and of ourselves, and so to bring forth fruits of eternal life, two things are necessary: primarily and principally, charity should always be ou.r guiding star; secondly, we must ask from Jesus Christ the light of His prudence which multiplies the fruits of charity. A soul that always proposes to itself the good of souls in everything that it says or does will always be recollected even in the midst of many external works be-cause its spirit is always intent on charity; and he who thinks always of the charity of Jesus Christ and has noth-ing else in his heart is always recollected in Jesus Christ and in God because the Scripture says: "God is charity." To acquire the habit which enables these four means to fructify in a constant recollection of spirit even in the midst of external occupations, it is necessary to make great efforts in the beginning and mortify oneself reso-lutely with regard to everything that distracts the mind and is opposed" to this state of recollection and of the presence of God. We must ask this grace of Jesus Christ with great constancy. Only by persevering in intense prayer can the soul be established in that permanent con-dition of quiet in God which is never lost through any' external action provided the will does not give itself to evil. Here you must realise that the power which communi-cates with God and is joined to God is different from those other powers with which we work externally. When, therefore, man has come to a certain state of con-templation and union, he works with those powers which regard external actions without placing any obstacle to that supreme power which gives him quiet and rest in God. So it is that we read of certain holy persons who, while they seemed completely taken up externally, were speaking internally with their God and Creator. And this conversation of theirs, instead of impeding them, helped them to do their external works better, just as outward actions did not turn them away from their interior~ union with God. Such a desirable state is usually obtained by those faithful and constant souls who, at the beginning, suffer much and mortify themselves greatly and pray with in-tensity and wholeheartedness. This is the state which the Sisters of Providence must strive to obtain during the time of the novitiate when they have every opportunity, if only they will use it, of binding themselves indissolubly to God, the spouse of their souls. The union begt, n then must last for the whole of their life. Those sisters who have not obtained it completely during their novitiate must strive to gain it as soon as possible, But let us pass to the third question. The third question was, then: "How can one unite per- fect zeal and an ardent desire for the perfection of charity with perfect detachment from the esteem~ of others and a sincere desire for contempt and ill use." This question is no less difficult to dea,1 with than the preceding two--to answer in practice, ,I mean, not in words. But what is difficult to Jesus Christ and to those who hope in Him and pray to Him . ?~t In order to reply to this last question~of yours, I say that it is necessary to suppose in a person h foundation of solid humility. This consists in not attributing to oneself that which belongs to God alone or to other men. Humil-ity, in fact, is only justice. It is just that m~{n should think himself nothing (because he really is such) and that he should think God everything; it is just tl~at man should recognise that glory does not appertain to !nothing but to that which is everything. Therefore he should wish for no glory for himself but the greatest possible ~glory for God. When a man knows these things, it is just ~hat he should feel a certain uneasiness when he is praised by men be-cause he who is nothing cannot desire to b~ praised with-out usurping what is not proper to him. IOn the other hand, he should be joyful when he sees that men glorify God. Man however is not only nothing. He is something worse: he is a sinner (not only because of the sins which he has committed but also because of th~se which he could have committed and would commit con. tinually if God did not have compassion on him). It lis just there-fore that he should desire to be despised[and that he should rejoice when he is ill treated by mefl. Sentiments of this nature must be unshakeable and deeply implanted in the soul of a religious person. Nevertheless, this per-son must realise also that although man is a, lnothing and moreover subject to every sin, Jesus Christ lias redeemed him through His mercy freely given; He h~s saved him and clothed him with Himself in such a maqner that the Christian bears the adornments of Jesus Christ. These are more or less rich and precious according io the abun-dance of virtues, of merits, and of grace poss,essed by the Christian. A man who finds himself adorned in this man-ner is indeed mad if this causes pride in him. On the other hand, if he realises that all these treasures are given to him freely and through no merit of his own, he will humble himself and attribute to God alone dhe glory of them without usurping for himself even the sdaallest part of that glory. Yet, just as God has given to man theset'reasures of v~rtue and of grace through a wholly gratmtous love, so also He makes h~m a paruc~pator of H~s own glory. Once more, though, man must not consider this glo',ry which is g~ven to him as his own but as belonging to Jisus Christ 4, Three Questions VOLUMF 22~ 1963 4. 4. ÷ Antonio Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS who, through His mercy, has wished to pour it out upon those who believe in Him, and to allow them a share it. With all this well understood, we can formulate certain rules which enable us to unite a desire of perfecting onr works of charity with detachment from self-esteem and, moreover, with a sincere desire of contempt (a most pre-cious thing). The rules are the following. First Rule. Generally speaking we must not give any occasion for contempt, at least through our own fault. When, despite this, we are belittled~ we must receive our humiliation with joy as something precious; we must thank God for it without fearing that it will damage our works of charity because, even if some damage does re-sult from it, this is desired by the Lord for His own ends. We ought not to turn away from it but trust in Provi-dence which will know how to obtain greater good h'om the immediate evil. Second Rule. We must never do anything whatever to gain praise from men. To do so is a most despicable act. When praise doescome of its own accord, we must at-tribute it to Jesus Christ to whom alone it belongs; we must, for our part, fear it as a danger and take precau-tions against it by internal acts of humility and contempt of ourselves; we must protest that we do not want to re-ceive it as a part of our reward. After this, if we find that praise is useful towards the perfection of our works of charity, we can take pleasure in it provided that this pleasure concerns the perfection of charity. We must not refer it simply to ourselves and we must be careful that no feeling of vanity or pride arise from it. On the con-trary, after we have received praise we should prepare ourselves for greater humiliation, persuaded that praise has made us no better than we were before. Third Rule. When we realise that the praise has been exaggerated, we should be displeased because this is con-trary to truth and justice. We should attribute it to the large heart of the one who gives it. Fourth Rule. In order to know whether we are really detached ourselves, we must see if we are glad when others are praised. You especially must ask yourselves whether you rejoice when praise is given to your sisters. Even the very smallest dislike or jealousy on this account would be a very great defect. You must be generous with others but especially with your sisters; you must consider their virtues far more than their vices; and you must try to maintain, by just means always, the esteem which others give them. Everyone must be ready to turn praise away from herself and see that it goes instead to her sis-ters. Each one must wish to be first with the work in hand and the last to be praised. This is not a dit~icult thing when a person considers his own defects and the virtues of others; when he no longer judges or condemns the defects of others; when he leaves ~ll judgment to God to whom alone it belongs; when he puts into prac-tice the lesson which Jes.us Christ tau :ht with these words: "Do not judge and you will not be judged. In fact, exposing oneself to the danger of j, " " one's brethern is the same as doing tlztdging wrongly ¯Therefore, in order not to be in danger o~ em an injury. lnj"us ¯uce against them, one must abstain [croom mevitetrinyg d aen-finitive judgment which may harm them. tions as the answers occurred to me. I hope that, if you meditate and do all this, you ever more dear to God and assure for your mortal crown. Your most affectionate fat~ Filth Rule. We must never speak of th ings for which we can be praised-~even the world considers this wrong. Moreover, although we ought not to bl'ame ourselves without good motives, nevertheless we ought to strive to cover up our virtues as far as we can andI to speak con-temptuously of ourselves sometimes provided so with sincerity This i . ¯ ~ .we can do you are speaking with yo~u rp rsaislsteewrso orrm wy iethspl et~cmerlsloyn ws h"en wh.om you are friendly, provided, once mo~, that itwl~tahs a s~ncere foundation. My dear sisters in Christ, I have replied t.o your ques- ,n our Lord will become seives an lin-er in Christ, A.R. ÷ Three Questions VOLU~ ~:,, SISTER JEAN DE MILAN, S.G.C. Toward Greater Maturity ÷ ÷ Sister Jean de Mi-lan, S.G.C., teaches psychology at Rivier College; Nashua, New Hampshire. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 518 The compatibility of neurosis and religion has re-ceived considerable attention in the psychological litera-ture of the last. thirty years. It is argued that sanctity re-quires a certain integrity in the psychic order,1 that man's struggle for perfection is directly proportionate to his mental equilibrium.2 There is no doubt, then, as to the importance of mental health in religious life where men and women consecrate themselves to God by vows to practice the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Religious commit themselves to community living and they depend mostly on one another for the works of the community and for companionship. It takes only elemental charity to prompt one to look into the dynamics of a neurosis in search of the elements incom-patible with a religious life. It is now an accepted fact that without being diagnosed psychoneurotics everyone exhibits neurotic symptoms at irregular intervals. It will be the purpose of this paper to identify these neurotic traits and to suggest measures within the framework of a religious life which can help to attenuate if not to eradicate the troublesome symptoms. The paper will be developed along twelve characteris-tics listed by Schneiders as typical of neurotic person-alities: immaturity and sensitivity, self-centeredness, un-realistic ego ideal, rigidity and anxiety, isolation, ag-gression against self, mental conflict, lack of control, sug-gestibility, irresponsibility, lack of sense of humor, and emotional instability,s These traits can be found in many people including religious; it is only when they become x Jordan Aumann, "Can Neurotics Be Saints?" Cross and Crown, v. 5 (1953), pp. 458-59. s Robert Meskunas, "Sanity and Sanctity: An Inquiry into the Compatibility of Neurosis and Sanctity," Bulletin o] the Guild o] Catholic Psychiatrists, v. 7 (October, 1960), p. 248. s Alexander A. Schneiders, Personal Adjustment and Mental Health (New York: Rinehart, 1955), pp. 390-95. a consistent and persistent pattern that/one speaks of a neurotic personality. As a type of adjustment, it is in-adequate and it represents an meffioent and unwhole-some effort to meet the demands and rdsponsibilities of daily living. / 1. Immaturity,and Sensitivity The neurotics immaturity makes allI problems and frustrations loom large and menacing, IThis tendency, often paired with regression, connotes not only loss mature habits of behavior but a consequ~ent progressive inadequacy of response. The neurotic be.comes decreas-ingly able to meet the ordinary demands for social living and begins to withdraw from acuve part~opauon, m group acuwty. He does not master hfe ~ut expects life to look after him. He is unusually sensitive to comments concerning himself and cannot tolerate/any form criticism. His sensitivity makes the stresses~ and threats of reality almost unbearable¯ Religious life favors the cultivation of a/Christianper-sonality through the development of a perfect life---~ne exquisitely balanced, of noble service to ohe's neighbor, a life most happily modeled on Christ Hi~aself. In lead-ing to spiritual maturity, religious life de~aands of one constant and close personal contacts in theI common life which comprises factors capable of actualizing the po-tentialities of the individual. To be a constructive and mature power, the individual personality ]nust exercise itself through activity upon others. Religious who can be characterized by "immaturity and sensitivity" are likely to be living in a sElf-contained world. They have refused to walk through the doors swinging outward where the self can be ektended and actualized. 2. Self-Centeredness Neuroticism is characterized by a life which is, in some respects, self-centered. It is ~mmatunty s firs.t ally. The neurotic makes his ego the center of the universe; good is what is good for the ego, bad only what unpleasant to it. Menninger, a renowned psychiatrist, b~lieves that Christ Himself laid down one of the pnnople~s of mental health that is now recognized as of paramo,unt impor-tance. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all quoted Christ when they said: "For whosoever will save his life s~all lose it, but whosoever will lose his life for my sake will save it." What better can condense the attributes of a mature per-sonality? "Some men can love others enough~ to derive ¯ more satisfaction from that than from being lo~ved them-selves. It is still a magnificent precept. If you can follow VOLUME 22, 1963 ,519 it, you will never have to make a date with a psychia-trist." 4 Religious life, because of its theocentric plan, teaches a person to surmount his egocentricity. It also provides a basis for satisfactory interpersonal relations and cha:r-ity toward fellow men in the fatherhood of God instead of in changing human sentiments.5 The spirit of self-abnegation and self-denial is fundamental to the re-ligious life. Religious are called to share one mind, one heart, one life, one love in Christ. Their social service is motivated by the love of God in the neighbor. Self-love, then, tends to decrease as a function of one's love. for others. The paradox of a self-centered religious be-comes a serious indictment. + + + Sister Jean de Milan, S.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3. Unrealistic Ego Ideal The neurotic harbors an almost pathological ego ideal which prevents him from achieving a realistic attitude toward the issues and problems of daily life. His goal is a purely idealized and often artificial one. The ego ideal, the self one wants to become, may take the form of an ideal of personal conduct or it may be identified with certain desired accomplishments. The purpose of the ideal is to bring about identification with it in view of self-actualization. It emphasizes the forward movement or activity that is characteristic of living or-ganisms. The personal pattern of tendencies is projected into the future. This orientation toward future goals is commonly accepted by psychologists as a mark of matu-rity. Obviously, it reaches its highest perfection in re-ligion where man is oriented toward his ultimate goal.e Religion aims primarily at bringing persons closer to God, and by doing so it may secondarily promote their mental health. When a person believes that God assists him in a very personal way, life's perplexities and emo-tional crises become relatively unimportant. With such a clear-eyed notion of God, of His claims on the indi-vidual and His plans for him, the religious has a reliable and stable framework upon which to build a plan of life. Religion is the supreme moral virtue dominating his interior life and his relations to other human beings, and the religious view of life becomes the philosophy which dominates both thought and conduct.7 Such a man is strengthened by the sense of his own personal dignity. ' Schneiders, Personal Adjustment, p. 160. ~ James H. VanderVeldt and Robert P. Odenwald, Psychiatry and Catholicism (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1952), p. 185. e James E. Royce, Personality and Mental Health (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1955), p. 277. ~ Thomas Verner Moore, Personal Mental Hygiene (New York: Grune and Stratton, 1944), p. 236. A religious has only to gauge his serentty to evaluate himself on this trait. 4. Rigidity and Anxiety The neurotic's rigidity and anxiety d, not allow ~him to adapt to changing situations. Flexibility, suppleness, and malleability are the signs of life. I Rigidity, rigor mortis, is the sign of death. Such is the sta'te of the person who lacks malleability, whose personali~,y is excessively rigid'S Fear and anxiety, the very core of neurosis, are emo-tions which generally assume a rather egoistic character. It is well known and readily accepted thatldiffuasnexiety is reduced in the neurotic by the development of somatic symptomatology, exther phys~ogentc or psychogemc ~n nature. The physical symptoms then bdcome ways of structuring the anxiety¯ Anxiety may result from dejection flowing from one's inabilityto realize his ambitions; it maylbe due to in-jured vanity. There are surprisingly few neurotics' among people who are genuinely humble. Real Ihumil!ty is a prophylaxis against the anxieties one encounters ~n every day human interaction, for the truly huml~le person not only recognizes his own weaknesses and limperfections but he remains peaceful when his deficiencies are recog-nized by others also.9 One who has consecrated himself to God by religious vows is officially the spouse of Christ. Bu~ one can be officially the bride of Christ without having made in reality a complete sacrifice of himself in which his will is identified with and absorbed in the will of God, or without having attained to that psychologtcal state that St. John of the Cross designates as "spiritual ,matrimony." This state results in a cessation of all anxiety and a men-tal state of peace and delightA0 It is quitd remarkable how religious experiences tend to the moral perfectton of the one who has them. They give him a be~ter mode of adjustment in his relations to other humanl beings and a spiritualized conception of the nature of t~ials. 5. Isolation There is a certain amount of hostility in .he neurotic make-up coupled wtth tnabthty to get along w~th others. The psychoneurotm ts essenually a maladjusted personal- 8 Charles J. D. Corcoran, "Types Suited or Unsuited for Religious Vocation," Proceedings o] the Eighth Annual Convocation o[ the Vocation Institute (Notre Dame: Notre Dame Press, 1955), p. 33. 0 Raphael C. McCarthy, Sa]eguarding Mental Health! (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1937), p. 253. lOThomas Verner Moore, The Driving Forces o[ H~man Nature (New York: Grune and Stratton, 1948), pp. 421-22. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity VOLUME 22, 1963 521 4. Sister lean de Milan, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ity and the victim of a bad system of mental habits. isolation results from a group of defense reactions, in-cluding primarily the fundamental biological reactions of defense and avoidance. The neurotic withdraws from his social group and becomes a nuisance even unto him-self. Man is a social being whose ultimate destiny is bound up with his observance of the great commandment dual charity. His perfection as a person is analogous to that of a seed which, to bear fruit, must grow outside of of itself. Religious growth in perfection can be measured in terms of one's serviceability to and influence on others. A life in the service of God and man, a wholehearted de-votion to the ideal of religious life, appears as the realiza-tion of our friendship with God. The profound feeling of loneliness and sense of isolation one experiences oc-casionally can be cured by a sincere trust in God, our friend. 6. Aggression Against Sell Neurotics are characterized by a great deal of petulance, annoyance with others, sensitivity to their at-titudes and behavior, readiness to quarrel and to find fault, and so on. Self-hatred as well as hatred of reality underlies both the spiritual and emotional disturbance. Aggression against self flows from conceited pride which has a twofold weakening effect: one of walling up its victim from reality and the other of making him super-sensitive to anything that might be construed to indicate a belittling attitude on the part of others,ix Running through all these neurotic ups and downs is a thread of chronic dissatisfaction and hopelessness which pre:;ents the eternal problem of "to be or not to be." The neurotic tries to evade the problem but no evasion is possible. He goes on unhappy and feeling offended and disregarded while it is within his power to modify, change, develop, and perfect his attitudes of mind, his emotional reac-tions, and the habits that fall under the competence of the will. It may call for the adoption of a new plan of life. Religious life, by having one strive towards the per-fection of a Christian personality, calls for a conscious development along the lines of private and social con-duct. Weekly confession is productive of a healthy ac-ceptance of one's shortcomings without introspective brooding. One is helped to come to a realistic acknowl-edgement of one's place, one's assets and liabilities, and one's dignity and dependence on God. Meditation is also a great promoter of insight. n James A. Magner, Personality and $uccessIul Living (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1945), p. 44. Mental Conflict Since it is the nature of conflict to pull the organism in different directions at the same time, deep-seated neurotic conflict is bound to disrupt the organization of personality. In the concept of. conflictI the conscience principle is of supreme importance; for it often happens that there is no real conflict between desire and its mere physical fulfillment, or between desire a~d one's sense of expediency, but that it is mainly and al~ove all between desire and the sense of duty. When impulse and fear are in conflict, the neurotic tries to resolve the conflict not by cont.trolling the im-pulse but instead by evasion and decep, uon. The fear results in behavior which seeks grauficauon while trying to keep punishment from occurring; thits strategy com-monly involves secrecy and falsehood. Th~ neurotic seeks to avoid social disapproval, but his conscle, nce hurts him. Attempts at repression may be unsuccessful and the in-dividual may resort to neurotic symptoms. Rehg~on, by reason of its experiences, behefs, and prac-uces, ~s eminently stated to the reducuon of damagxng conflict, feelings, and frustrations. It constantly reminds one of the intrinsic value and dignity of man, and of the fact that he is created to the image and likeness of God; there is no better way to offset the traumatic effects of in-feriority and the feeling of personal worthl~essness. There can be no more solid anchor than trust in! divine provi-dence and in the belief of His personal interest in each of His creatures. Conformity to the will of th~ all-wise God makes life's sorrows and fears bearable. Whlen a religious weakens under the burden of mental conflitcts, it will be wise for him to work out the debits and credits of his conduct in terms of self-will and will of G~d. 8. Lack of Control When the emotions are chronically ou~[ of control, some degree of neurosis exists. There is no neurosis with-out some evidence of failure in control an~t integrative functions. Integration presupposes wisdom ~in the intel-lect and character in the will--a scale of lvalues, self-knowledge, and habits of self-control. Most o,[ the neurot-ics are recruited among those whose will power is undeveloped. Stability amid the ups and downs of emotional moods is essential to both physical and mental heal~.h. Here the virtues of fortitude and temperance play their part. Re-ligion gives moral principles with a bac,king which makes them easier to hold onto when the going is hard. Meditation, a daily spiritual exercise for all religious, Moore, Mental Hygiene, p. 306. 4. Maturity VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ $i~tet lean d~ Milan, $.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 524 readjusts their thinking to a proper sense of values. Be-sides, one is not allowed to elude the dynamics of grace for any considerable time when one truly lives his re. ligious life. 9. Suggestibility Suggestibility is closely linked with emotional im-maturity and harmful dependency. The suggestible neu-rotic is controlled by an idea or by someone else rather than by himself. His want of self-confidence makes him dependent upon others so that he leans on their judg-ments and readily yields to suggestion. He is vacillating in his purposes, uncertain in his opinions, fearful of re-sponsibility, and reluctant to assume the initiative in any activity. Such feelings batter at a person's mental in-tegrity until it is weakened or destroyed.13 Suggestibility resembles "lack of control" inasmuch as it implies lack of integration. The greater one's erno-tional vulnerability, the greater will be the predisposition to neurotic reactions. No doubt the neurotic is happier with his neurosis than he would be without it in view of all the circumstances external and internal as he per-ceives them; however, he lacks the happiness of an inte-grated personality. What VanderVeldt said of religion can be said of re-ligious life: "The condition for the mental health value of religion is that people truly live their religion.TM Perhaps not all people who are supposed to be religious and become neurotic have made their religious convic-tions an integral part of their lives. 10. Irresponsibility Sense of responsibility is the realization that one has certain duties and obligations to fulfill and the deter-mination to fulfill them to the best of one's abilities. Sense of responsibility and the willingness to accept obli-gations are dependent to a great extent on maturity. The comparison is often made of a neurosis being a closed door that bars dyn~imic development for the neu-rotic. If the doors of the neurotic hell are locked from the inside, the psychotherapist can only help the patient find the key. This is not an easy task as the neurotic pa-tient clings to his symptoms even though he is disturbed by them and seeks psychiatric help. The neurosis is a way of life that is pleasant to the neurotic, especially when he is able to manipulate the environment to meet his selfish needs. The ability to assume responsibility is in large part a McCarthy, SaIeguarding Mental Health, p. 266. VanderVeldt and Odenwald. Psychiatry and Catholicism, p. 193. matter of moral courage¯ One who has honest religious convicuons feels obhged to do something worthwhile for God and for man. He turns aside from the unwholesome pursuit of selfish pleasures. Religious Iprinciples direct his mind to the purpose of life, and in/so doing they do not deprive him of pleasure but' give it i~ abundance and permanence as he attains the great purp, ose of life in the service of God and man. If he has adopted the religious ideal with enthusiasm, then it become~ a powerful in-hibitory force against the development of unwholesome mental conditions.15 11. Lack ol Sense of Humor A good sense of humor is one of the c iteria of mental health and adjustment. It is not found in the neurotic whose life is humorless, a drab affair d~ minated by ill-ness, conflict, frustration, dissatisfaction, ~and discourage-ment. Humor is based on the perception of incongruities; it is a feeling of surprise, the joyous shock Iof discovery in our appreciation of life's incongruities. To find these con-trasts we must be self-detached,.account ourselves of little ¯ importance, look outwards and not rewards, feel drawn to people and to th~ngs ~n thanksgxwng; for humor ~s the reward o1: a wxll-to-commumty. "Wlll-to-cornmumty ~s not to be understood as a fixed determ~nauon to hve with the community but rather the will td live in a com-munity as a grateful member of a crowd,°r group. Hu-mor should be the natural endowment oflall thowsheo seek to live in religion. The test of a true sense of humor is the capacity to laugh with others at one's self; but that i~ not all. One must discover the reason for such laughter. One must learn to discover in the laughter of others s~omething like a comphment. True humor ~s akin to brotlierly love and sympathy; ~t brads us closer together and relaxes all un- ! due tensions. There is nothing so effecuve in checking the ingrowing pains of pride as a sense of h~umor. People who take themselves too seriously need the ~antidote of a good laugh to reduce values to their true llevel and to declare a permanent moratorium on manyI of their pet grievances and frustrated ambitions.17 A sense of humor combats anxiety, which is a blight on the ~ehg~ous life, by exercising the mind in a way which develops a living, vibrant suppleness. Cheerfulness is the siga which ac-companies sacrifices made out of true love, the love of God. Gloom and sadness are the signs of s~lcrifice made ~ Moore, Mental Hygiene, pp. 244-45. xo Ferdinand Valentine, The Apostolate o[ Chastity (Westminster: Newman, 1954), p. 15. x7 Magner, Personality and Success]ul Living, p. 48. ÷ Maturity VOLUME 22~ 1963 out of self-love, out of vainglory. A" sense of humor enables one to behd without breaking under the weight: of the cross, to see the proportion between the suffering,; of this life and the glory of the next, and to see oneself in the humble relationship of creature to Creator. 12. Emotional Instability Emotional instability is a dominant feature of the neurotic personality and a primary determinant of the neurotic's difficulties. Along with his emotional change-ability and high general emotionality, he exhibits be-havior that is characteristic of a spoiled child. There is an intimate connection between mental and moral health. Wholesome effective living and mental stability require an adequate scale of values, or philos-ophy of life, and a set of worthwhile attitudes and habits. These qualities can be provided more efficaciously and more abundantly by religion than anything else in one's life. Only moral virtue can give a healthy, integrated personality. The virtues moderate one's emotions and temperament, bringing them into balance. A virtuous life will result in unity and integration of personality. Summary and Conclusion Religious are not immune to neurotic behavior; at one time or another, a religious is likely to exhibit neu-rotic traits. But by its very nature, the religious life can help one counteract the possible neurotic tendencies. A brief discussion of the positive contributions of religious life to mental health was introduced with the discussion of each neurotic trait. The religious man or woman of humble faith in God, of daily prayer and consultation with God, of devotion to his or her religious duties as God has given light to see them has the assurance of a full perspective on life, health of mind, peace of soul, and a view of time in the light of eternity,is ~s James A. Magner, Mental Health in a Mad World (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1953), p. 298. 4. Sister Jean de Milan, S.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 526 ROBERT j. KRUSE, C.S.C. Au in Religio 'From a supernatural point of view, th, exercise of re-ligious authority and the practice of ehg~ous obedience are meaningful only when conceived as~ participations in the authority and in the obedience of Christ our Lord. eAd::a°~n:r~ ~Vreo~tern~p. t to understand authority and obedi- . ~ a ~nrist-centered way of ~ife, we become gud~ of gloss misunderstanding In such }a situ . - gardless ot the reasonableness "a n d t h et ingenudittlyO oIlf~ oreu-r solutions to the problems which religiouslauthority and religious obedience pose, such solutions remain void of genuine supernatural worth. In discussing authority and obedience, therefore, our first and constant care must be to associate them with our life in Christ. ~therwise our discussion will remain purely human and natural and a ~. consequence sterile Attempts ,~ ~-~ - ~-,. ¯ s. hfe~as ~,s Christian a"nd relig~io tu~s x lcifaett~ ~m Uu~lvt lbnee wanaal~zffd in divine terms. To confront supernatural reality with purely natural reflections betokens a wand of reverence ~r~he g~dly way of life with which we ~re ~a . ~st our Lord. ~ ceu ~n In this article we will speak of authority in the r - ligious life. In a subsequent article we will ~er some r~ flections on religious obedience. Of the t~o topics the latter is the more all,cult. Both are intimately connected. Afith~rity and obedience are relative terms so that what-ever ,s said o~ the one necessarily contains implications for the other. In our discussion of authority ~e ~ill group our considerations about three focal poiqts: first, re-ligious authority and the mystery o[ the ~ncarnation; second, religious authority and the imitation of Christ our Lord; and third, religious authority and] the mystery o~ the Redemption. Divine life flows to the souI through many channels. Ultimately, however, all of those channels drink at a sole spring and that spring is Christ. It is He who gives ÷ ÷ Robert J. Kruse, C.S.C;, is a faculty member ot? Holy Cross Fathers Semi-nary; North Easton, Massachusetts. VOLUME 22, 1965 Robert CK,~.Ce., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 528 to the soul living water, "a fountain of water, springing up unto life everlasting" (Jn 4:14). What is it that the Christian and that the religious seeks? He seeks a share in the life of God. For without a share in the life of the eternal God, man is deprived of all eternal significance. Unless a man looks outside of himself to a higher order, to the transcendent order, to God, in search of an ex-planation for his own existence, unless a man looks be-yond self to Another for the fulfillment of his own noblest hopes, he remains imprisoned without hope in the finite, in the created, in the temporal order--with no more persona/significance than that of any other transi-tory phenomenon. Ultimately, all religious questions re-duce themselves to this sole question: the nature of man's relationship to God, the possibility of man's sharing in the life of God. For apart from such a possibility man becomes merely a moment in time. And self is incapable, totally incompetent to satisfy its own profoundest aspira-tions. So that man seeks a way out of the maze of human, created, and limited reality, finite love, imperfect good-ness and truth, a way which will lead him to the enjoy-ment eternally of unlimited reality, infinite love, perfect truth. That way is Christ. Christ is the sole way. There is no other way. Among all communications of divine life, none re-motely approaches that enjoyed by the holy humanity of Christ our Lord. For in all truth the human intellect, the human will, and the human body of our Savior are the intellect, will, and body of a divine person. No created being save the holy humanity of Christ, that hu-manity f.ull of grace and of truth, enjoys this personal union with God. Truly in the womb of the Virgin Mary are celebrated the nuptials of God and of man. In the mystery of the Incarnation, we witness the wedding of the divine and the human in the person of the Word made flesh. And in virtue of His holy humanity, the Son may be said to render perfect obedience to His Father and our Father. "Therefore in coming into the world, he says., a body thou hast fitted to me .B.ehold, I come., to do thy will, O God" (Heb 10:5-7). It is indeed significant that because of His obedience our Savior is glorified and exalted. "Appearing in the form of man, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even to death on a cross. Therefore God also has exalted him" (Phil 2:7-9). It is equally significant that because of His obedience our Savior lays claim to His Mystical Body, the Church, and wins authority over that Body. "Christ is head of the Church, being himself savior of the body," so that, "the Church is subject to Christ" (Eph 5:23-24). God has made all things "subject under hwihsi cfhe eint,d eaendd i sh hiims b hodey ""a (vEepn hea a2so: 2 'o2-v--e2 r-~ ,a) . r/t t,h, e_ C h u r c h., indeed would onlyY g uruhdrigsitn. gOlyn athssee ontth teor lhthaen dw, imll aon y." sup.eriors. The obvious explanatiofi is a~t hand: ~h:uir. Perxor" ,s not Chtr. iIsn d e e d , t h e s u p e./rior ma n be conspicuously Christlike T~;o ~.2, .y ot. even. course, irrelevant. For the. s.u. p,~er-i~olras naauttlhoonr iat s", .ot authority of Christ even if tbo . ¯ ,~ - y as the --- ~uperaor § conauct is far t~oro gmr ~asnpr itshtlei kper.o Tfohuen rdo osti gonf itfhicea pnrcoeb olefm.~/tihiees I innc aa rfnaailtuioren. God has willed to use human channels fo~" the communi-cation of divine life. First and foremost, t~e holy human-ity of the Word Incarnate. That humani,ty is, of course, "tried as we are in all things except sin" ~Heb 4:15). But in His Mystical Body the Incarnation ~1of the eternal Word is extended through all the centuries of man's pilgrimage in exile. And to His Body C~rist has com-municated His authority. In the Church~.~which is the prolongation through history of the mystery of th c,.,arn.auo.n--davme life is communicated ;,,! ,.~" .~__ t, oa. lhe Church can do this only becaus~ Christ is her Head; and in Christ human nature has lald claim on the divine, on the life of God. So that in th~ Church, the Body of Christ, the perfection and humanity receives truly divine gifts, fduilflfneess of Chri.~t's There is, of course, this crucial our Savior's fence between is --' r-. ,., r~.er ~s holy, perfectly sinl,~ss; the latter str~lYesP:~t~ut~iYn "fer~n'wnghi21.y. In the lmeantime it ~vL~.rot~uide of the holiness of its Hena ~dt. sBeuetk ws rite.~h:daelm Cphtriiosnt oin r - h.as c,o,.mmumcate.d to His Mystical B.bdy a arti~i- ~m,~e, ~sni.n ~f.un ltnaless osw on[ a tuhttaato Mrit"ys, tai c~aa]r-t i_cri, ~.,.;.~ i ~soay cann~o, ~t msucbnv eevretn. t~r,~a, ~,~,,.e~ m_t_ynstee.rry l nofta t}hlie. bIlnec naronra itmm.np ercecmabalien si m~ plliivciirt~lyg aty today and everyday. Such religious are ~unwilling to admit that divine life can be communicated to them through human channels---channels ¯ frailties which the very term "humans"u ibmjepclite tso. Talhlu tsh ien our treatment of authority, perhaps our basic need is to emphasize more the "humanness" of it~that it is the ex- ÷ tension and continuation of the mystery of ~he Incarna-tion, the m)stery of God's making His own a human ÷ nature in order thereby to redeem human nature. y our Loro resid " ~mperfect and sinful human bein¢~. . I , ~ an --~, we mUSt also alIlrm ~ut~i~y VOLUME 22t 1963 5,?,9 4" 4" Robert Kru~e, C£.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 53O that it is a duty incumbent upon those in authority to become increasingly perfect and sinless. In this effort those in authority have a sure guide: our Lord's exercise of authority. We have here a question not of what author-ity might be but of what authority must be. That is to say, there is an obligation for those in authority to ad-minister their trust in a Christlike manner. It is not, therefore, a question of some vague, elusive ideal but rather a question of serious moral obligation. Of cour:;e, as in every creaturely .undertaking, perfection is never totally realized. That does not, however, render its quest any less imperative. What, in more concrete .terms, does the Christlike exercise of authority involve? Fundamental, it seems to us, is the sense of service. "But Jesus called them (the apostles) to him and said, 'You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. Not so is it .among you. On the contrary, whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant; and whoever wishes to be first among you, shall be your slave; even as the Son of Man has not come to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many' " (Mt 20:25-28). In the last analysis it is the functidn of those in authority in the religious life to contribute by their direction to "building up the Body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the deep knowledge of the Son of God, to perfect manhood, to the mature measure of the fullness of Christ" (Eph 4:12--13). Religious authority, then, stands in service of Christ's Mystical Body. The superior must never forget that his commands are addressed to a subject in whom the Spirit of Christ dwells. Let those commands never grieve that Spirit. Authority's commands must come from Christ: and be directed to Christ. That is, the superior must speak words which are sensitive to the Spirit of Christ within himself--words which the Spirit of Christ within the subject recognizes as springing from a kindred Spirit. It is the same Christ who both commands and obeys. Con-siderations of a purely human kind, attitudes which re-flect a purely natural assessment of the nature of author-ity-- these are entirely out of place and constitute a degradation of religious authority. Fundamentally, the superior's role is to act as an instrument for the more per-fect rule of the Spirit of Christ over the hearts and over the conduct of those vowed to religious obedience. In the fulfillment of this role, external trappings de-signed to enhance authority's position are of dubious value. One of the most gifted theoIogians in the Church today writes in connection with this point: In the life of the cloister there are still to be found age-old rituals governing the etiquette of superiors, involving demands of respect from subjects, secretiveness, ma ifestations of su-periority, appeals of superiors to a hi her wi ¯ 5°.? escens,o etc. All hould m' ,hs?lay . or w.Juter away. ~UDerlors s .,~a o ~ ~ permitted to me worm aroudd ,~.~ cast a long ~nd quiet lance at fluential, who re~e~'L~ff?c, . w~o ~re truly ]powerfu~ and in- ¯ ~ a ~reat ~ea/ ot unquestioning obedience pompous front. Superiors should oyu, inetflly i andsmeciut trhitayt ibne cheirntadi na Circumstances their subjecu know ~ore than ' matter at hand? ~ey do about displays of condescension "ro~w st o:- these ourel x , . y e 3ernal competence of the superi8or m proDort~on to ¯ . The truly l~r--- the ~n recognizes spontaneously the 7 ~ cat superior speaking, of all these trappings.i nInsi gthniisf ircea~nacred, ist pisir situuraelllyy salutary to read and meditate upon our Eord's r " . sh~p w~th H~s apostles. Nowhere in the ,ospelse~a~'°~e find our Lord making a fuss over SUch trivia, "You me Master and Lord, and you say well, fqr so call therefore, I the Lord and Master have wasOed yIo aumr f~e eIft,, you also ought to wash the feet of one a,nother. ~i~ ~u ]~ ~x~le, that as I hav~ done t~J ~ ~ ~noum oo (in 13:13-15). Regarding the matter of superiors' see~I i'ng coun~s e' l, some reflections are in order. Today, perha~ps more than at any time in the past, given 'the comolekit o tieth-cent . t Y f twen- . ury apostohc activity, it ~s'urgent ~hat superiors tsheeek i nadspviicrae.t iHonolsy o Mf oththee Hr tohle. ,C ch~ur:c_h:, .e v e ~ .s-e ~ns .i t~"ve to necessity in th~ ~-:-~'o- u s y r ~uVle-s- tw~,h picrohw sohees dd oto~tr tohvise ~ve ~rv 5nao-tt -t.hueg amd- vo¯rice es eorniol ubsu -ot uestions t-h.~ ~,k,u .~. .~ o tfLter n r~e" ulres y the consent of councId.ors asq well. Superiors should gladly reco~ize the Chu ~ch's w" -~d-~ta_g ~ersd taoi nojne gg aai~nde dw firlolimng sleye akvina~il ctohue-m~s :e1l~v,e_s7 o.~'-t~sff~ any reason w ,, the., .k_. ,. ,o . ,,o~,. l~or is there sistance and ehn~l i,g~hyt e~n-mouelnat ctoo nthnonsee t /o~eciria sl~l,a arpcpho fionrt eads-for this task. To put the matter very frankl ~: the Holy Spirit is perfectly capable of inspiring eact and every religious in a community with both a supern ttural view-point and useful practical suggestions re. arding the apostolic work entrusted to the communit, blu.n gtin the s " ' . , Far from + we!gh carefullyu tbhjee cstusp mernmaatut~ravl em, ethrieto s u- e~-'m--r sh,ou!d courage the religious to appropriate ~aoc otit oa n~ wtophoesnal ,p eon-s-sible, and in every case welcome the subject's interest and enthusiasm. It is false to suppose that ;vorthwhile l0 t0 K9~ar0l )R, aph,n 3e~r,4 S. .J . , " R e f l e c t i o n s o n O b c, dience," Crc Currents v. Authority VOLUM~ 22, 1963 Robert K~,r~u.~se,., REVIEW FOR REL)GIOUS ideas can emanate exclusively from those in authority. Such an attitude is an affront to the Holy Spirit. Related to the matter of seeking counsel is the matter of openness. Some superiors, regrettably, are excessively secretive even regarding insignificant daily directives. Many of their undertakings are shrouded with an aura.of mystery. The real mystery is what advantage they think derives from such a procedure. It is small wonder that subjects fail to display much enthusiasm for the su-perior's proposals when they are rarely invited to share in the superior's confidence. We would recommend to such superiors prayerful reflection on the words of our Lord spoken in the intimacy of the Last Supper. "No longer do I call you servants, because the servant does not know what his master does. But I have called you friends, because all things that I have heard from my Father I have made.known to you" On 15:15). What a contrast between the conduct of our Lord towards iHis apostles and the conduct of some superiors towards their religious. In this connection it is most helpful for supe-riors to cultivate within their communities a family spirit and that holy familiarity which the term "family" suggests. Nothing is to be gained by remaining aloof and distant. How can one who is aloof and distant touch and quicken the hearts of his subjects with the Spirit.of Christ? We might consider many other practical questions re-garding the Christlike exercise of authority. More im-portant, though, than coming to grips with parti(:ular problems is grasping the ideal which will serve as a guide for the resolution of every problem. That ideal is at once easy to understand and difficult to practice. What would our Lord do if He were in my place? How would He handle this problem? How would He win to Himself this person? To be a good superior demands intimate knowl-edge of our Lord and constant docility to the inspirations of His Spirit. Finally, some comments regarding authority and the mystery of the Redemption. The religious life, as all Christian life, is at the same time both incarnational and eschatological in character. It looks beyond the temporal order to the creation of new hea,~ens and a new earth. Indeed, the mystery of the Incarnation is itself the prin-ciple of this transformation. God makes Himself a sharer in our humanity only that we in turn might: share in His divinity. And ultimately our divinization will be accomplished solely by our personal sharing in the mys-tery of the Redemption. We must make our own the mys-tery of Christ's passover from death to life. With Christ, the great wayfarer, we journey each day through ter-restrial exile and affliction to our celestial dwelling and resurrection. "Wherefore we do not los! heart. On the contrary, even though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by d~y. For our pres-ent light affliction, which is for the moment, prepares for us an eternal weight of glory that is beyond all measure (2 Cor 4:16-17). Every Christian in the fulfillment of h, is vocation en-counters the cross of Christ. Justly does Saint Paul declare that we are ' always beanng about ~n our Ibody the dying of Jesus, so that the life also of Jesus maylbe made mani-fest in our bodily frame" (2 Cor 4:10). Certainly the re-hg~ ous superior ~s no exception to th~s rule. The exercise of authority is a cross. The superior shoul~l willingly em-brace that cross recognizing that only by Isharing in the mystery of the cross is self-love subject to passion and to death and the love of God to renewal and ~o resurrection. "This saying is true: If we have died withI him, we shall also live with him; if we endure, we shall rilso reign with him" (2 Tim 2:11-12). To exercise authority with anxious care is the supe-riot's cross. It requires no small self-sacnfic,e. On the con-trary, thanks to the constant demands of all kinds made ¯ upon his time, his energies, and his interest, the superior is truly "poured out in sacrifice" (2 Tim 4:8). A continu-ing death to self-love attends the wgflant superior s com-mitment to his holy trust. In this context welmust address ourselves to one problem in particular--a problem which occasions the deepest suffering for the conscientious su-perior. Stated in the broadest possible term~s, that prob-lem is one simply of remaining faithful t~o the super-natural order m the face of the pressures wli~ch a purely natural wewpo~nt bnngs to bear on rehgmus hfe and the apostolate. How many superiors are d~str, essed by the disintegration of spiritual values with which they are periodically confronted? How are they to res~pond to this challenge? Doubtless, the question is a vexifi~.g one. In such cases what is clear is that the super!or must re-main faithful to supernatural values. Spec~ous as the temptation to compromise may be, such compromise un-dermines. the very structure of religious life. S~metimes it may appear that only by making concessions to man's innate self-indulgence can harmony be maintained. Are not such concessions a mistake? Has not our ILord Him-self declared: "Do not think that I have come to send peace upon the earth; I have come to bring alsword, not peace., and a man's enemies will be those of his own household" (Mr 10:34-36). Obviously we are not sug-gesung that the superior pounce upon every trifling de-parture from regular &sc~phne. Shortcomings of this kind are usually nothing more than manifestations of our common frailty in persons of genuine goo~,d will. To ÷ ÷ ÷ Authority VOLUME 22, 1963 533 ÷ Robert Krt~e, .S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 534 tax the subject's good will over every peccadillo is hardly a Christlike manner of exercising authority. The situ;t-tion we envisage is far different. We have in mind the case of the religious who deliberately and systematically by his actions and attitudes exhibits practical contempt for the religious life. Cost what it may the superior mtlst courageously resist such a betrayal of religious values. To permit flagrant disregard for the supernatural order to go unchecked is intolerable. It proves demoralizing for those religious honestly striving to fulfill their vows and scan-dalizing for the faithful who almost inevitably become acquainted with such a state of affairs. Certainly in all such cases those in authority must dis-play arl exquisite kindness and sympathy, tempering the rmness of their decisions with tangible benevolence, t,ut I firm tliey must be--for the sake of the religious life it-self. Let St. Paul's exercise of authority be their model: "For though we walk in the flesh, we do not make war according to the flesh; for the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but powerful before God to the demolishing of strongholds, the destroying of reasonings--yes, of every lofty thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every mind into captivity to the .obedience of Christ" (2 Cor 10:3-6). Surely no cross burdens the zeal-ous superior with more anguish than the recalcitrant subject. It taxes both his prudence and his courage to the utmost. Only let him recognize in tiffs cross an instrument for his personal sanctification. For the realization of God's will let him sacrifice his own popularity. To act with firmness and decision seems temperamentally almost impossible for many superiors. Nevertheless, their voca-tion demands just such firmness. In their weakness let them surrender to the Spirit of Christ their Lord, the Spirit of fortitude, who has been poured forth in their hearts. By so doing they will purify their own souls and will contribute significantly to the sanctification of their subjects. For their course of action is self-crucifying and so redeeming. Regarding positive steps to be taken in such situations, it is extremely difficult to generalize. Two suggestions come to mind which may prove of some utility. First, when dealing with such cases it would seem particularly desirable for the superior to work in close harmony with his councilors. Such collaboration contributes signifi-cantly to an objective evaluation of the problem at hand, minimizing the danger of the superior's being prompted by merely human considerations in his analysis of the situation. In addition, one or another councilor may be in a much more advantageous position to cope with the problem than the superior himself. Second, it would seem a duty incumbent upon the superior to neutralize and even to turn to the spiritual advantage of the corn .any d!sedification or scandal ar;~;n~ t_AJ_ ,mun"l.ty ject's behavior Cann~, -~-- .o,,:~ ~,ul~ an unruly sun- ,,L L.c superior exploit this oppor- ~t~rn2~aYn~n~?Cf~lrC~etaer:nnce~hn:ne~ elli:k,gelo,u as s~ ;wttiteuldle sa osf tuon- encourage prayer and sacrifice 'both for dheir delino confrere and for their own . : ¯ v,--o~vc,ance ~n noeiity. This ~uh~ULnb7 odn°noe;~of_ co,urse: ,m. a spirit of h~mility. Passinl~ tiit-~rS snoulo. I~e SCFU U ' " violatioofn - - . e rChh ri.s.t.h. kpe sIpoiruit swlhyi cahv ~ohoiduled dan aimsa ate ! the entire community. Rather, a sense of cornorate re-sponsibility and an awareness of man's Inborn weakness should be developed. In some such anner as this can the superior offset the harm done y th problem reli-b ! gtous in his community. In this article we have attempted to relate the exercise of religious authorit,, to the fun-'- our faith¯ the Incar~nation a--~ -u~a-m- e,~n t-a tt m. ysteries ot ¯ .tt ttte l~eclemDtlon A from such a vision of .~-^-: . t : 2 part dn~,.~.~u ,.~.,. ,~.~. . -,,~:,~,tLty mere e, XlStS tlae real ,at purely natural attitudes will invade our minds and shape our thinking along lihes devoid supernatural dimensio¯ns Such in~r,,o:~-- l_ . - of dured. That is why, practically "s -n~e,a~k,-isn c,~an .nt.o_t _o e, en- ,- ~,,I t,e sole tr .bmee Cashurrt.set s0 ,of wthne eCxherirsctiisaen oe¯xf eirtc ~ioo^,~-- u^-t', -a.".u.[ni o, r¯ltv can onu.e devoted some attention to ¯ xoi tHIS reason we also ¯ authori"ty and ~th e ~¯m~¯ tation of Christ. In closing, we would recommend to all who seek more knowled,,e on the su~-:- - -- ,~ d- ivine Lord¯ For l~ove of Him iosj cbcotr nm oatf t~,~kenyo wstuleadyg oeu orf Him,. and out of love shall grow likeness. And ultimate that ~s all Christian authority needs: to be ~hristlike. ly + + ÷ Authority VOLUME 22~ 196~ BROTHER PHILIP HARRIS, O.S.F. The Parent's Role in Guidance 4. Brother Philip Harris, O.S.F., is the vice president of development of St. Francis College; Brooklyn, New York. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS One area of formal guidance1 in the schools today which has been most neglected but which holds the great-est promise for the future is parent guidance. Although extensive training is now provided for a profession or an occupation, little assistance is offered to the newly-mar-ried couple facing one of the most challenging human responsibilities--the rearing and education of children. The average parents want to do a good job of raising their offspring as useful citizens. But they need the~ as-sistance of educators who are willing to share the fruit of their own special knowledge and experience. Such a partnership with parents can be a.great aid to the over-burdened and under-staffed guidance department as it seeks to help a maximum number of youth in adjusting to a confusing and complex twentieth-century world. By right, and in fact, the parent is the child's principal counselor. Jusot as parents have the primary duty to edu-cate their children, so they have the basic obligation of providing sound guidance to them. Any guidance en-deavors of the school should be based on this premise, for educators only supplement the counsel given to students by their parents. The influence of parents on a child's life decisions is formidable. It is the task of the school also to aid the parent so that the young person makes the correct decisions and attains optimum personal development. It is understandable that in this age of rapid techno-logical changes, vocational opportunity, and personal challenge parents would look to the guidance specialist to help them discover, develop, and direct all of the God-given potentialities of the child. The theme of this con-ference is "The Adjustment of Young People to a World in Accelerated Technical and Economic Evolution." Par-ents possess the opportunity to assist today's youth to be- 1 This is the text of a paper delivered to the International Con-ference on School and Vocational Guidance, Paris, July 16-22, 1962. come tomorrow's successful adults. Ho!ever, the faculty in general and the guidance worker in[particular must help parents to understand the child of tl~ television and the space age, to project themselves into the future so as to determine educational and vocational possibilities for their children in the decades ahead, to appreciate the school and the guidance department's objectives and practices, to utilize good principles of met tal hygiene and right living in their families. Such a plan for cooperative and compiementary child formation by parents and educators must be~in with the pre-school youngster and continue throul~h ~aigher stud-ies. How to accomplish this will be the Isubject of this paper. Before examining the methods for peiping parents to fulfill their natural role as guides, it is ~seful to realize the advantages of such emphasis through t ae student per. sonnel services of the school. Values o[ Parent Guidance A parental guidance program strengthms a schooI's guidance efforts in the following ways: l) Teachers are limited in the amoun~ of time and energy they can devote to helping pupils so~ve their prob-lems and meet life's challenges. Trained counselors, even on the high school level, are few in nurhber and can guide only a fraction of the student bod~. Any sound guidance practices, therefore, that parents can utilize with their offspring will lessen the educator's load and permit school counselors to do more effectiv~ worL 2) Prevention of more serious problems ~hould be the aim of .any. paren.tal gu¯idance effort. If p~rents can be alerted to signs ot emotional disturbances, .to the effects of broken homes or rejection, to their children,s needs especially psychological), to the acceptance Iof their chil- ~tgi~srd.less ,of speci.a.1 talent or limitation~, then many 3) Througinh stchheoiro cl ownitlalc bt ew riethd upcaerden otsr ,a evdouicdaetdo.rs may gain insight into the family background ofttheir pupils and are better able to understand each child! 4) Parents gain a greater appreciation of]the school's program and the teacher's efforts. As a resuh, they may give increased support to school activities, fcr they truly appreciate every endeavor made for their chil ~l's improve-ment. Some of the means for translating these calues into realities through the school's guidance effor follow: Parent Clubs Teachers are familiar with various home-sc/~ ol groups, such as the Parent Teacher Association and Fathers' or Mothers' Guild approach. Such or~anization~. o ]. however, ÷ ÷ ~Pmarde Gntusidance VOLUME 22, 1963 4" 4" 4" Phili~ HaOr.Sr.iFs,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS should have a two-way effect. The parents may raise funds for special school projects and assist in other ways; the school should provide, in turn, programs that help the members do a better job in their role as parents. Par-ents with exceptional training and skills may be willilxg to aid pupils and other parents with special knowledge and experience. For example, speakers for a career day can be recruited from a parents' guild; or parents who are doctors, nurses, or psychologists, can be called upon to address the parent group. Volunteer workers of all types from among the pupils' parents may offer free service to the school. A well-functioning parent club can be a deterrent to juvenile delinquency and offer good leisure time activ-ities for both parents and children. It not only will bring the school and home into closer cooperation but also may promote greater harmony and understanding between parent and child. Parent Forums Any aspect of child development or improvement serves as a good topic for a parent forum. It is best ithat parents be invited together who represent children of distinct grade or age levels, such as the upper, middle, or primary grades, or the pre-adolescent or adolescent pe-riod. Thus, there will be some common meeting ground for discussion. The student's intellectual, vocational, so-cial, or moral development can serve as the basis for a number of group conferences. This type of affair can be conducted in various ways. One is to have a guest or faculty speaker whose address is followed by questions from the floor. Another procedure brings in a specialist whose talk is discussed by a panel of parents with a faculty member as moderator. Parents of the graduating or senior class often profit from an educational forum to which representatives of high schools (or colleges) which the graduates will likely attend are invited for individual questioning or group discussion. These general meetings of parents are most effective when they do not take more than two hours for the total program. They may be preceded by some type of audio-visual aid while the assembly hall is slowly filling up. Sometimes films on adolescence or family mental hygiene may be projected and then followed by a discussion led by one of the faculty. Usually parent forums are held in the evening, but a week end or holiday afternoon may prove appropriate. Refreshments served after such events help teachers to meet the parents in a relaxed, social atmosphere. Parent Group Conferences These conferences are small group me~etings of parents and a teacher. If a guidance counselor or~ school l~sychol-ogist is available, these conferences may be arranged with him. These group interviews run'from ~fteen to twenty ~tin.utes and ,gi.ve the parents an. opport,~nity to present ae~r parental ~mpressions and experiences and to hear the educator's evaluation of their child. ~uch interviews have great potential for "preventive" ~ ¯ cational, vocational, or social areas. Tclo{uen tseechhn~n iinq ueed uis, most effecti.ve when these conferences a~e arranged parents a common problem, rot ex!mple, ents of students failing the sam~ two school subjects or the parents of pupils who are truant or.l.the parents of students who are withdrawn and antisocial or the parents of "exceptional" children--such natural groupings will permit the process of multiple counselin~ to take place. The teache~-counselor must prepare for ~he conferences by studying the family background anbdeI t¯horoughly fwahmosilei apra rwenitths mthaek ec uump tuhlea tgirvoeu pre. cords of the studbnts ,u. oSno motm tet~ i.sn p.terorecsetidnugr ree sbeya rPcrho hfaess sboeresn Sreapwo r~tnedd Mona ah vlearr iaa-t Chico State College in the United States. Their gr0ut~ counseling approach included botfi parents and student~. It centered a~0und underachieving pupils and involved a series of eight sessions where freedom of e~xpression was uppermost. First, students were asked to sit in a circle of six with a counselor, while the parents Isat off to the side as observers. Then, after personal introductions stu-dents were asked to express their feelings a~s to why ,they were ,u.nderach.ieving. The sessions were structured aproos.tut~.moan sK weye rteo ps,w cist cohre qdu, ewstiitohn tsh. eA pfaterre nthtsir itn3 ~th mei ncuirtcesle the and the youth as observers. Prior to such meetings~, it is helpful if both parents and students fill out an inventory of their attitudes toward each other and sc[ ool. Gradually, parent and offspring will gain insight into their own personal relationships and uriders~ anding as to why the child is not obtaining better grade.,. A plan for improvement can be developed, and a gap of time be-tween the fifth and the last two sessions will )ermit them to try out these ideas in practice. Then, th~ final guid-ance periods can be devoted to reports of success or fail-ure as well as a realistic review with implications for the future. The initial results of this technique i adicate that such family counseling can become a useful part of the school guidance program. Parents and Guidance + + ÷ Philip Harris, O .S.F. REVIEW FOR REL]G|OUS 540 Individual Parent Guidance Teachers and administrators have long met with par-ents on an individual basis to discuss their mutual con.- cern--the student. Frequently, such meetings were con-cerned with an analysis of the pupil's problems, abilitiet~, potential, and plans. However, this old technique can be made more effective by the use of some modern ap-proaches. For example, with the student's permission, his autobiography, anecdotal records, test results and ventories may be interpreted and discussed with parents. Another useful procedure is role-playing--the teacher switching to the role of the parent or the child and pos-sibly the parent switching to the role of the student. Or, the youth may be invited to attend the session to explain his feelings or position, or to "role-play" his parents. Parent Bulletins and Reports In addition to the written reports commonly given to parents by schools, bulletins which interpret standard-ized test results may be prepared to help parents gain greater insight into their child's abilities, aptitudes, and interests. A newsletter can be issued by the guidance de-partment, principal, or parent organization on: com-munity guidance and psychological resources; suggested means of helping a child with specific physical, psycho-logical, or social problems; a bibliography of free or in-expensive publications useful in the guidance of youth, of use to parents; scholarship or student aid opportuni-ties; entrance requirements of local institutions of higher education; projects for family group recreation; adoles-cent needs and conflicts; and principles of good human relations in the home. In working with modern parents, it is wise to consider the changes that have taken place in parental attitudes toward education and their goals as parents. The Chang-ing American Parent by Daniel R. Miller and Guy E. Swanson (New York: Wiley, 1959) is but one example of published reports that provide much light on the sub-ject. Many guidance books for teachers contain a chapter or two on working with parents. A recent volume, for example, Guidance in the Elementary Classroom by Gerald and Norma Kowitz (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1959) devotes the last chapter to "Counseling with Par-ents." Another recommended work is Adlerian Family Counseling edited by Dreikurs-Corsini-Lowe-Sonstegard (University of Oregon Press). The school's attempt to aid the parents to fulfill their God-given responsibilities as guides to their own children will undoubtedly prove fruitful in the good accomplished attaining the objectives of the school guidance service, in saving on teacher time and energy, and in the, good public relations thus promoted. SISTER TERESA MARY, C.S.CI Religious 0 ce and Critical Thinking It is often said that we are living in a critical t.he people of the present tim . L . a.ge,. T, hat mose of the ,~, o,~L- _, ~- ,~-,: naor,e critical t~aa consc.musne~s s. .o.f. t~h,e,, ~co, mat pteIeaxstl tmy opfa rtth, efr uon~i tvheerisre g. eMateenr recognize that they must constantly adapt [their thinking to manifold new discoveries being made.~ While it is not necessary to doubt the existence of absolutes as some of I our contemporaries do, the need. to recq~ze relative aspects of man's being and knowledge o~ the world is much more apparent today than ever b~fore A new manifestation of the evolutionary ~rocess in th ha,s . ~coe ab?y~ largely because ot t~he ~e~t ro e world ~twy esncthioetlhar cs einnt uthreiesse Mpeoriroedosv eisr, bethe ~ i"nng o cw o¯~m ~em,~ u g -ne i c a a a.te c~ea~ath m content and method to large masses of or " ~eople. The spread of scientifi- -~ . ,-- , dreary the development of the crit~ic ~a-lu supginrti tn eacmespsnargil ym menea. nIss this critical spirit a good or an evil for them? than e a s g ~re Although the wordc .n.t~.osm,, often e a to break down some existing structurec ownintohtoeus ta desire apprec~atmn of facts~ ~t need not have th:~ 1 . ~rop~r meamng As a genuine intellectual effort, ~,t~s ure-sfuolrttsu nmaatye more often be presupposed as good and ~onstructive. Criticism is usually offered out o~ a sincere ~ntent'on to better the existing structure, not to destroy i~, and~is the m~ural product o~ a creative mind. Without seein~ the ~ ly as the values which he holds have been critically examined, Sister Teresa ra~"mnally acceet~d,.an~ then u~e Mary, 5 as general guides to behavior is in-ra~ her than as ng~d mvmlable principles can the perso~ be character- structor in theolo~ ~zed ~ liberally educated." Paul L. Dressel, "'The Role of Critical at St. Mary's Col-Thinking in Acquiring Enduring Attitudes and lege; Notre Dame, w~th Revolutionary Chan~es ~ . Know'ledge to Deal Indiana. National Con er~ . ~. ?~.u, a paper presente~ to a. 19 .~ f . u n~gner Education in Ch'cz£. ~ ~' v0~v~ ~, ÷ + ÷ Sister Teresa Mary, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS deficiencies in the current state of our existence, individ-ually and within a group, we cannot even maintain our present good, much less acquire all the good that is po:~- sible for us.2 The tendency of the modern age to be critical can, if rightly exercised, open up wider oppo:r-tunities for full human existence. Having recognized the value of the critical process in human activity, we come to the problem of this article, to consider the relationship of criticism to the virtue o[ obedience in the religious life. While attachment to per-sonal judgment has always been the crucial issue in the question of obedience, this matter takes on added dimen-sions in an age which emphasizes the value of a good, free, critical personal judgment. When a subject has been educated to think for himself, there is bound to be a se-vere adjustment for his personality if he is obliged to give this up in the interest of religious obedience. Part of our problem will be to determine whether the subject of obe-dience is obliged to give up personal judgment in any way and, if not, how he is to coordinate a conflicting judgment with the will of the superior. The following examples from current articles should suffice to show that there are a variety of answers to the problem of obedience. These answers have seldom been compared so that some sharp differences among them could be properly noted. It will be well to look at them first before trying to answer whether religious obedience and critical thinking are compatible. All authors, of course, agree on two points: the supe-rior's will is to be obeyed in all commands which are not sinful, and this obedience must be more than a mere external execution of the command; as a genuine human act it must flow from self-determination to the goodness of the act of obedience. The religious subject recognizes in the light of faith that the superior has been invested with authority in a congregation estab

Issue 14.1 of the Review for Religious, 1955. ; Review for Religious JANUARY 15, 1955 The Relicjious Life . Pope Plus xII Advice to Superiors . . st. Francis de Sales The Contemplative Life . Mother M. Immaculafa Loncjevlfy of Rellcjious Mother Mary Walsh . A saint's Last Leffer. Sister Josephlna Sister M. Teresffa . John M. Render Book Reviews Ouestions and Answers VOLUME XlV NUMBER 1 RI VII::W FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME XIV JANUARY, 19 5 5 NUMBER 1 CONTENTS POPE PlUS XII AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE--Joseph F. Gallen, S.d .3. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 1. Repeating Litany in Community Prayers .1.1. 2. Confession to Other than Extraordinary . 12 3. Privilege to Refuse Requested Indult .1.2 4. Ownership of Matured Bond .1.3. 5. Disposition of Patrimony .'. . 14 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 14 OUR ADDRESSES . " . 14 ST. FRANCIS DE SALES' ADVICE TO SUPERIORS-- Edward J. Carney, O.S.F.S .1.5. BACK NUMBERS AVAILABLE .2.2. THOUGHTS ON THE CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE-- Mother M. Immaculata, P.C .2.3 APOSTOLATE OF THE PRESS .2.8. LONGEVITY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN--Sister Josephina, C.S.J .2.9. MOTHER MARY WALSH~Sister Mary Teresita, O.P .3.1 A SAINT'S LAST LETTER--John M. Render, C.P .4.3. ON SECULAR INSTITUTES .4.6. BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Iiadiana .4.7 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January, 1955. Vol. XIV, No. 1. Published bi-monthly: January, March. May, duly, 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 danuary 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka. Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.d., Adam C. E.llis, S.~., Gerald Kelly, S.3., Francis N. Kortb, S.3. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, S.d. Copyright, 1954, by Adam C. Ellis, S.2. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, ~rovided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Review J:or Religious Volume XIV January--December, 1955 Published at THE COLLEGE PRESS Topeka, Kansas Edited by THE JESUIT FATHERS ST. MARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS iS incJexed in CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX 'Pope Pius XII and t:he Religious Lit:e INTRODUCTION --l--HE present great movement of renovation and adaptation of the | religious life has been fostered in an unusually continuous and prolonged manner by the Holy See. This is evident from the congresses promoted in various countries by the Holy See. The norm that must be used to evaluate all ideas, articles, and lectures on the subject is the teaching of the Roman Pontiff, and for this reason the present effort consists of a selection of the statements of Plus XII on the religious life. The compilation is restricted to the utter-ances of the Pope and thus does not include an~i doctrines of authors or statements of the Sacred Congregations or of their officials. There are included, however, some pronouncements of Pius XII that were not made directly and explicitly to or of religious, since it was judged that from their nature these statements applied to religious at least to an appreciable'degree, sometimes also equally and even more in-tensively. All such paragraphs are preceded by an asterisk. The sources of numbers 10 and 39 are clearly stated. All other para-graphs are taken from the Acta Apostolicae Sedis, the first number being the volume, the second the year, and the third the page. --JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. I. ADAPTATION~ ' ¯ *1. "It gives Us, Venerable Brethren, an inward strength, a heav-enly joy, for which We daily render to God Our deep and humble thanks, to see in every region of the Catholic world evident signs of a spirit which boldly faces the gigantic tasks of our age, which with generous decision ik intent on uniting in fruitful harmony the first and essential duty of individual sanctification with .,apostolic activity for the spread of the Kingdom of God." Encgclical Letter, "Summi Ponti[icatus," 3 1 - 19 3 9- 5 5 7. 2. "The new times in which we live certainly demand, also inlspir-itual matters, new undertakings, new works and aids by which we can aptly meet the changed and increasing needs of our age. These, in keeping With the ardor of your zeal, you should not neglect. Labor strenuously to employ more aptly and serviceably every develop-ment of modern times to strengthen the Kingdom of Jesus Christ POPE PIUS XII Review for Reli¢ious at home and to spread it abroad. However, your institute, dear to Us and to you, must ever remain the same, the same in th~ govern-ment by which it is unified, the same in the spirit by which it 'is nourished, the same finally in that burning obedience and devoted reverence by which you are steadfastly and unflinchingly bound to this Apostolic See." Apostolic Letter to the Father General of the Society of desus, 32-1940-295. 3. "But if becauseof special circumstances and its own prudent judgment the Apostolic See should decide to decree anything that may seem new to your institute, you will beyond all doubt accept it with a most obedient mind and realize fully that it will be to your good, not your hakim. Such conduct is urged on you certainly by the obedience due to ecclesiastical authority and also by the eager and ready desire that moves you to accept anything enacted by the same authority, since it would be appropriate to the time and bene-ficial to you." Letter on the Tercentenartl of the Death ofSt. Jane Frances de Chantal, 33-1941-491, 492. *4. "When We examine the beginnings of your society,, this fact stands out and fills Our soul with the greatest joy: there bare never been lacking to the Catholic Church, there are not lacking now, nor will there ever be lacking in the future outstanding and distin-guished men who, realizing and studying the principal needs of their age, eagerly and with their whole soul strive to meet them." Letter to the Society of the Priests of St. Sulpice, 34-1942-94. *5. "The 'Church of today cannot return purely and. simply to the primitive ways of its small initial fold. In its maturity, which is not old age, it keeps its head erect and in its members reveals unchanged the vigor of its youth. It. remains what it has been from its birth, always the same. It does not change in its dogma nor in its eflScacy. It is impregnable, indestructible, invincible. It is immutable, inefface-able by the document of its foundation that is sealed with the blood of the Son of God; yet it advances, it takes on new ways with its growth in years,, it makes progress but without changing its nature, since, in the admirable language of Vincent of Lerin, the religion of the soul must imitate the manner of the body. The body de-velolbs, grows and advances in years yet always remains the same as 4t was . The Church, having already attained its mature mission of universal mother of the faithful, confronted by far greater necessities and duties, would not consent, without being unfaithful to itself, to twist its steps towards the manners of life January, 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE and action of the earliest centuries." Address on the Twenw-Eftb Annioersarg ~ His Epis.copal Consecration, 34-1942-158. 6. "Therefore, since the circumstances existing originally at the time of the foundations ha're changed, there arises the necessity of adapting the constitutions and rules. Even at the time of the pro-mulgation of the new Code of Canon Law, religious orders of great antiquity, to conform their own monastic rules to the laws of the Code and likewise to correspond more to the needs of thi~ age, labored diligently to abrogate many things that were obsolete, to adapt others suitably, and to make useful innovations. They ac-cordingly opened a way to the talents and zeal of their subjects to a new or rather proper plan of action for their labors in the vineyard of the Lord." Apostolic Letter on the Constitutions of the Cistercian Congregation of Casaroari, 35-1943-390, 391. ' *7. "Therefore, We do not hesitate even now, in this second and more formidable conflict, to look on the future with a serene gaze and, We believe, for a greater reason. In fact, the work accomplished in the interval has been deliberately orientated to give the missions the character of native, not foreign, institutions. From this follows the need of native clergy and native sisters and also the principle that the temperament, the traditions and the native customs must remain inviolate in so far as they are in accord with the law of God. The missionary is an apostle of Jesus Christ. He possesses no office of transplanting a specifically European culture to the mission lands. His duty is to render such nations, which sometimes boast a culture of great antiquity, prompt and ready to accept and assimilate the element~ of Christian life and. customs. These easily and naturally blend with any sane culture and give it the full capacity and efficacy to assure and guarantee human dignity and happiness. Catholic natives must be truly members of the family of God and citizens of His Kingdom, without, however, ceasing to remain citizens also of their own earthly fatherland." Address on Missions, 36-1944- 210. 8. "Some conditions must be observed that what We have prom-ised Ourselves may be happily realized and that you yourselves may fulfill Our expectation. Above all else you are to be s~eadfastly faithful to your constitutions and to all the laws of your consti-tutions. If it seems suitable, some things in your order may be changed and accommodated to the new circumstances of.t.he~ age, but anything s.ubstantial is in no way to be touched :and is to stand 5 POPE PlUS XII Re~iew for Religious perpetually, for example, the tertianship, which hasenriched your own interior spiritual lives and has been imitated and adopted by other religious.families." Allocution to the XXIXGeneral Co.ngre- "gatiOn of the Soqiet~/ of Jesus, 38-1946-383. *9. "The sacred liturgy includes divine as well as human elements. The former, instituted by the Divine Redeemer, cannot be changed in any way by men. The human components, however, admit of various modifications as the needs of the age, circumstances and the good of souls may require, and as authorized by the ecclesiastical hierarchy under the guidance of the H01y Spirit." Encyclical Letter, "Mediator Dei," 39-i947-541,542. 10. "This, above all, must be your solemn principle; you are to protect religiously and observe always anything placed by St. A1- pbonsus as fundamental in your ~ocJety. However, .you are to re-flect and study ,attentively whether some changes should be made with regard to the external manner of life and conduct because of the changes of time and place. You will thus avoid any loss o~ damage to the sacred deposit entrusted to you over the long series q.f years?' Letter to Redernptorist Capitulars; Acta et Docurnenta Congressus Generalis de Statibus Perfectionis, I, 23. 11. "The renewal or rather the reawakening of the spirit and life of your institute has led you to the desire of new undertakings in keeping with the changed circumstances and necessities of the time. It should be the heartfelt desire of religioias men to imbue the age in which they live with the soundness of mind of the Gospel and with grace, to win the men of their time to Christ by apt ways and paths. What could be more desirable than such plans, more salu-tary than such works? It is impossible that We should not approve such intentions." Allocution to Fathers of the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin, 40-1948-551. 12. '.'However, it must be your clear conviction that these greater apostolic works, demanded of you also by modern times, are" not to weaken in any way nor change fundamentally the manner of your religious, life. On the contrary, this is to be imbued and formed W.ith such evangelical spirit that all of you are conspicuous for a prope~ poverty, excel in an attractive simplicity and humility, and.especially that.you persevere in your traditional austere di~ci-pline . You must.also be on fire with the seraphic love of God and of yoh~ neighbor that consumed the patriarch of Assisi through- "6 danuarg, 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE out his life. Only ifl this way and by a spiritual and interior life that daily increases in intensity can your external works be in-spired with the divine strength that overcomes and successfully conquers all earthly difficulties." Letter to the Minister General of the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin, 41-1949-66. "13. "They [newly ordained priests-] are to learn what our times demand, the needs by which they are tortured, the dangers and diffi-culties they present; and hence are to be trained in all the appropriate methods by which they may more readily overcome these dangers and meet these needs in a way that is vigorous and suited to our times." Motu Pr.oprio on the Pontifical Institute of St. Eugene, 41-1949-166. 14. "As you celebrate the first centenary of the death of your de-vout founder, it is altogether becoming that you should renew and intensify the spirit with which he desired the two religious societies of men and women founded by him to be imbued and formed. You are completely aware of what this demands. You are called upon not only to embrace the evangelical life in a generous spirit, not only to strive zealously and energetically for virtue and sanc-tity, but also according to your ability to show yourselves equal to the needs of the times and to undertake courageously all forms of the apostolate introduced by the present age. In this respect William 3oseph Chaminade gave you most outstanding examples for your imitation." Letter to the Superior General of the Society! of Mary on the Centenar~l of the Death of the Founder, 41-1949-591, 592. "15. "Let it never happen, beloved sons, that the new forms and methods of the apostolate which are today so opportune, espe-cially in localities where the clergy is few in number, should either lie fallow or, for not being properly organized, should not respond to the needs of the Christian people." Apostolic Exhortation, "Menti Nostrae," 42-1950-680. "16. "On these points, Venerable Brethren, We most earnestly arouse you to vigilance." We have no doubt whatever that you will act with prudence regarding the exaggeration, which is found in rfiany, of attachment to the past and of hankering after novelty. This prudence must be wise and watchful that truth alone may emerge victorious when there is question of vefituring on new paths of zeal and effort . Far be it from Us to maintain" that apostolic work should not be in harmony with present-day life or that work,~ now being undertaken should not serve the rieeds 7 ~OPE PIUS XII of our times." 695. Re~iew for Religio~, s Apostolic Exhortation, "Menti Nostrae,' 42-1950- 17. "From this common fidelity and constancy the sacred manner of life of nuns acquired a solid consistency wNch always enabled it to resist inn6vations of any kind more vigorously than institutes of any other regulars or religious of either sex. Within certain proper limits this is undeniably to its credit." Apostolic Constitution, "Sponsa Christi,' 43-1951-8. 18. "On the other hand there are some elements in the life of nuns which are neither necessary nor complementary but merely external and historical, since they certainly owe their existence to the cir-cumstances of former times, which are now very much changed. These, if they are found to be no longer of any use or liable to hinder greater good, seem to have no special reason for being p.re-served. Accordingly, without the least prejudice to any of the native and principal elements of the venerable manner of life of nuns, regarding those that are external and accidental, We have decided to make ~ome considered "and prudent adaptations to present times, which may not only do greater honor to the venerable man-ner of life but at the same time increase its effectiveness." Apostolic Constitution, "Sponsa Christi," 43-1951- I O. 19. "We have been informed that in the sessions to be held dur-ing the week subjects will be proposed to the consideration of religious which undoubtedly meet the needs of the religious life at the present moment, particularly concerning the formation of souls consecrated to God and the apostolic works that should be undertaken. Minds and wills, with the aid of God's grace, are to be so reinvigorated and strengthened that, within the limits of their ability, they are to be equipped to meet the new ways of the times and thespiritual destitution of this age. The reinvigorating of one's life in all its aspects is by no means the same thing as the abandonment or thought-less lack of appreciation for everything accomplished by the very laborious efforts of one's predecessors, which all religious should esteem as the glory and ornament of their own institute. It means rather to ward off the uselessness of an indolent life, to express in personal conduct the noble accomplishments of one's predecessors, earnestly to maintain the standard of spirituality, to exert the ut-most effort to prevent the sacred laws of one's institute from appear-ing as a heap of external and useless rules, whose letter, when the spirit is lacking, kills; it is to make them in fact instruments of danuary. 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE heavenly virtue that those subject to them may be able to conceive an ever higher desire for sanctity and, in imitation of the Apostle St. Paul, may spend their strength to purchase the salvation of their neighbor. If those consecrated to God are to be adapted to the ways of modern times, they are in no way to yield to the demands or senseless persuasion and invitations of the world." Letter An-nouncing the General Congress on the States of Perfection, 43-1951- 25. 20. "When young people hear the statements: 'We must keep up to date' and 'Our efforts must be commensurate with the times,' they are fired with an extraordinary ardor of soul, and if they are serving under the standard of religious militia, they keenly desire to direct the efforts of their future religious undertakings according to this principle. To a certain extent that is proper. For it has often happened that the founding fathers of religious institutes con-ceived their foundations in order to meet the challenge which newly emerging needs were urgently presenting to the Church or her works; and in. this way they harmonized their enterprises with their age. Hence if you wish to walk in the footsteps of your predecessors, act as they acted. Examine thoroughly the beliefs, convictions and con-duct of your own contemporaries, and if you discover in them elements that are good and proper, make these worthwhile features your own; otherwise you will never be able to enlighten, assist, sustain and guide the men of your own time." Address to the Gen-eral Con, gress on the States of Perfection, 43-1951-33, 34. 21. "There are, however, circumstances, and not a few, when you can and ought to accommodate yourselves to the temper and needs of men and the age. Indeed to a great extent this has actually been done, and now the task is being completely and perfectly accomp-lished by y~ur combined counsels and plans. As may be seen from the variety of your undertakings both as individuals and as insti-tutes, you have already initiated many adjustments in schools, in the training of youth, in the alleviation of human misery and in the cultivation and promotion of learning. Hence it must be ad-mitted, and Our affirmation admits of no denial, that a vast amount of energy is even now being expended to meet the altered condi-tions of our era with new and effective resources." Address to the General Congress on the States of Perfection, 43-1951-34. 22. "With regard to the religious habit, choose one that expresses your interior lack of affectation, simplicity and religious modesty. POPE PlUS XII ~Review for Religious It will then be edifying to all and also to modern youth." Apostolic Exhortation to the Ibternational Conoention of Teaching Sisters, 43-1951-741. 23. "The constitutions also, taken in both. their letter and spirit, facilitate and procure for the sister everything that she needs and should do in our day- to be a good teacher and educator. That is evident in the purely mechanical aspect. For example, today in sev-eral countries sisters also, in a becoming manner, ride bicycles ~vhen this is demanded by their work. In the beginning this was some-thing completely new, but it was not contrary to the Rule. It is possible that some points of the horarium, some prescriptions that are only mere applications of the Rule, some customs that corres-ponded, perhaps, to circumstances of the past but now only hinder the work of education should be adapted to the new circumstances. Higher superiors and the genera! chapter shall take care to proceed in this matter conscientiously, with clear-sightedness, prudence and courage and, when necessary, they shall not fail to submit the pro- .posed changes to the competent ecclesiastical authority. You wi~h to serve the cause of ,Jesus Christ and His Church according to the needs of the modern world. Therefore, it would not be reasonable to persist in .usages or ways that impede such service or perhaps even make it impossible. Sisters in teaching and education should be so prepared, so equal to the lofty character of their calling, so cogni-zant with everythingthat youth will encounter and with every in-fluence that they will meet that the students will quickly ~xclaim: We can go to the sisters with our problems and difficulties; they understand us and help us." Apostolic Exhortation to the Inter-national Conoention of Teaching Sisters, 43-1951 - 74 i, 742. 24. "For yourselves, here are Our counsels: in this crisis of vocation~ make sure that nothing in your customs, your manner of life or the ascetical practices of your religious families is an obstacle or a cause of loss of vocations. We mean certain usages which, if ever suited to another cultural context, are out of place today, so that even a really good and courageous girl would find them only an ob-stacle to her' vocation. We cited different examples in Our explana- .tion of last year. To return for a word on the question of dress: the religious habit should always express the consecration to Christ; that is expected and desired by all. In other .respects the habit should be appropriate and in keeping with the demands of hygiene. We could not refrain from expressing Our satisfaction at the fact that 10 danuar~j, 1955 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS during the course of the year a few congregations bad already taken some practical steps in this matter. To sum up: in things that are not essential make the adapyations counselled by reason and well-ordered charity." Address to the Congress of Mothers General, 44- 1952-825. 25. "Your predecessors undertook renowned work for the com-mon good of nations; your obligation today is to undertake it again and again, adapted to present needs and with an ever quick-ening zeal. For your Benedictine Institute can exert today also the salutary force that will ~urni~h a suitable remedy for the violent attacks of evil." Allocution to the Congress of Confederated Bene-dictine Congregations, 45-1953-672. Father Gallen's valuable compilation of papal texts will be continued in our =ext number.--Ed. Ques!:ions and Answers I Is it necessary or correct to repeat the Litany of Loreto three times in. one evening at community prayers? We say this litany as a part of our regular night prayers. Then in October we say the lltan9 before ache ros-ary and the prayer to St. Joseph. On Saturday evenings in some of our. convents the litany is sung. In a small house where it is not sung, we say it a third time on Saturdays--all this in one evening. Is it possible to ful-fill all these obligations with one recitation of the litany? Since the recital of the Litany of Loreto at evening community prayers seems to be a custom rather than a prescription of the con-stitutions, its repetition would seem to be a matter for the general chapter to decide. Unless the chapter would decide otherwise, one recitation of the litany seems to satisfy all the prescriptions of the community prayers: (1) It is recited as part of the regular night prayers. (2) During October it is said before the rosary, which indicates the time when it is said. (3) On Saturdays it is sung, which indicates a quality rather than a repetition. In small houses where there are only a few religious, this quality may be omitted. There is no need of repeating the litany merely because it cannot be sung. 11 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Reoiew [or Religlods --2-- If a sister is not ~t home the day the extraordinary confessor comes to the convent for his quarterly visit, must she still cjo to another confessor besides the or.dlnary confessor? Canon 521, § 1, obliges all religious women to present them-selves to the extraordinary confessor, at least tO receive his blessing, although they need not go to confession to him. But when it is physically impossible for a sister to present herself to the extraor-dinary confessor because she is not at home on the day he comes, her obligation ceases for that visit. She need not go to any other con-fessor but may confess to the ordinary confessor, if that be con-venient. In a despairincj mood and in a confused state of mind, a sister asks her mother cjeneral to obtain for her ~ dispensation from her perpetual vows. The d~rk cloud passes; the s~ster feels better in health ~nd regrets her previous action. Several weel~s later she receives a letter from her mother cjener~l informing her thai" the dispensation has been cjranted. Where does the sister stand now? .Is she dismissed from her concjrecj~- fion before God? Must she return to the world ~cjalnst her own will ~nd. desire? Please explain in detail. In a plenary session of the Sacred Congregation of Religious held on June 9, 1922, the following question was proposed for a solution: "Whether a religious who has asked for an indult of secularization or. a dispensation from simple vows can refuse to accept the indult or the dispensation when he receives notice of it from the local superior, even though the superior general has already issued the executorial decree of the rescript in writing in accordance with canon 56 of the Code of Canon Law?" Having previously considered the opinion of consultors, after mature deliberation, the eminent Fathers decided as follows: "In the affirmative, provided superiors have not grave reasons to the contrary, in which case they should refer the matter to the Sacred Congregation." On the following day, in an audience granted to the Secretary of the Sacred Congregation, His Holiness, Pope Pius XI, approved the solution of the eminent Fathers; and the answer was published officially by the Sacred Cong'regation of Religious under date of August 1, 1922 (AAS. XIV [1922], 501). While prescribing the necessity of acceptance of the rescript of dis- 12 danuar~l, 1955 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS pensation from simple vows on the part of the petitioner, the Sacred Congregation had not set any limit as to the time within which it had to be accepted. Hence, it happened in practice that an individual religious would keep a rescript for weeks and even for months, re-serving to himself the moment of acceptance. Since such a mode of action caused various inconveniences, the Sacred Congregation of Re-ligious found it necessary to determine the time within which the rescript must be accepted or rejected. After some experimentation with regard to form, the following text was incorporated into the body of the indult of secularization or dispensation from vows when new copies were printed several years ago and is now in gen-eral use. "This present rescript shall have no value if it has not been accepted by the petitioner within ten days from the communication received of the execution of the decree." (This information is con-tained in an article by A. Guti~rrez, C.M.F., entitled: "'De Accep-tatione Induli Saecularizationis'" which appeared in Comraentarium pro Religiosis, XXXII [1953], 186-197.) From all this we conclude that the sister is still a member of her congregation, because she never accepted the indult'~ of seculari-zation or dispensation 'from her vows. .--4-- If a religious wlth simple vows receives a $750 government bond as a porf~on of his inherlfance and the bond is permitted o mature so that at' the end of ten years the bond is worth $1,000, does the relicjious keep the' simple ownership of $1,000 or of $7S07 The bond was 9iven with the ex-pressed wish of the donor that if be.permiffed to mature. Does this ex-pressed wish make any difference in the case? The free disposal of the use and usufruct (income) of his prop-erty required by canon 569 of all novices before the profession of first simple vows ~3ermits the novice to add the income to the capital, if he wishes to do so. (See Larraona, Commentarium pro Religiosis, I [1920], 338). ~f he does this, then the added income becomes a part of the capital and may not be disposed of during the lifetime of the religious with simple vows, without special permission of the Holy See. This same disposition of th~ use and usufruct may be made by a religious even after first profession for any additional property which comes into his possession under any title whatsoever (canon 569, § 2). In such a case the religious of his own accord may permit the $750 government bond to mature, so that at the end.of ten years .13 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Revieto for Religious it will be worth $1,000, but he may no longer deduct the annual payments from it, since it has all become a part of his patrimony. In the case in which the donor of the $750 government bond made known his wish that the bond be permitted to mature, the re-ligious has no choice in the matter, as canon 1514 stipulates very clearly that the wishes of the faithful regarding donations and in-heritances are to be carried out most diligently. S A sister of our community received a legacy of $2,800 from her grand-father. As her fathe~ is dead and her mother has only a very small in-come, may the sister, with the permission of her superior, give one half, or at least one third, of this money to her mother for her support, or must the permission of the Holy See be obtained fo thus dispose, of a part of the sister's patrimony? Car~on 583 forbids a religious with simple vows in a congrega-tion to giye away her property during her lifetime without permis-sion of the Holy See. In the present case the Holy See would gladly ~grant the necessary pekmission for the sister to come to the financial assistance of her mother. That permission, however, would have to be asked for. OUR CONTRIBUTORS JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Wood-stock, Maryland. EDWARD J. CARNEY is dean of the theological students at De Sales" Hall, Hyattsville, Maryland. MOTHER M. IMMACULATA is abbess of the Poor Clare Monastery, Roswell, New Mexico. SISTER JOSEPHINA is on the faculty of the Boston College School of Education, Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts. SISTER M. TERESITA is at the mother house of the Dominican Sisters of the Sick Poor, New York City. JOHN M. RENDER teaches English at the Passionist Monastery, Des Moines, Iowa. OUR ADDRESSES We have three different addresses. It would help considerably if all who com-municate with us would note them: 1. Business communications, such as subscriptions, renewals, etc., should be sent to: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison St., Topeka, Kansas. 2. Books for review should be sent to: Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. 3. All other editorial communications, such as manuscripts, questions, letters for publication, etc., should be sent to: The Editors, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 14 St:. Francis de Sales' Advice t:o Superiors Edward J. Carney, O.S.F.S. AMONG the writings of St. Francis de Sales are found letters of direction, both to lay people and to religious. In the latter category are many addressed to superioresses of con-vents, giving counsel for difficulties either personal or administra-tive. This advice does not touch on every problem, but it does in-dicate in a general way the manner of meeting some of the situations arising in the superiorship. For the purpose of presentation, excerpts from these letters have been arranged in the following groupings: I--Fundamental Virtues for ~Superiors; II~Emotional Control; III--The Superior's Manner of Dealing with Subjects; IV--The Superior and the Observance of the Rule; V~The Superior and Reception and Profession of Candidates. I-~Fundamental Virtues for Superiors St. Francis de Sales bases spiritual perfection on the virtues of humility and charity. "Humility and charity are the mainstays; all the other ropes are attached to them.''1 Therefore, in his teach-ing the superior ought to strive to acquire these two virtues. Charity always presupposes the state of grace and brings about union with God and the neighbor. It le~lds to a loving trust in divine provi-dence, to the prayer of petition, and to that manner of acting so beautifully expressed by St. Paul as kind, self-effacing, bearing all things, hoping all things, enduring all things. In the ordinary course of events, appointment to the office of superior represents a fulfillment in time of an eternal decree. God not only obliges Himself to give to the one in charge the means of fulfilling the duties of state, but through a faithful instrument He will accomplish His designs. Therefore, every superior should trust in God's loving providence and confidently hope to receive from Him whatever help is necessary. "What a consolation for you that it is God Himself who has made you superioress . . . ! Where-fore, His providence is under obligation to you, on account of its 1The quotations from St. Francis de Sales are taken from the Dora Mackey trans-lations, with minor changes in the mechanics of spelling, punctuation, and capitali-zation. 15 EDWARD d. CARNEY Reoieto for Religious being the disposer of things, to hold you with its hand, that you may do well what it calls you to. Be sure of this, my dear daugh-ter; you must walk with good confidence under the guidance of this good God and not except yourself from that general rule that God who has begun in you a good work will perfect it, according to His wisdom, provided that we are faithful and humble." Neighborly charity is also an important virtue for the superior. It must not, however, lead to a weakening of. authority or to a removal of proper respect. "I do not think there is any practice to which you should pay more attention than to that of most holy charity towards your neighbor, by sweetly bearing with them and lovingly serving them, but in such sort that you take care always to preserve the authority and gravity of a superior, accompanied with holy humility." Commands contrary to the natural inclinations of others are often ifl order. If these are given kindly and graciously, the sub-jects ordinarily will show a better response. "For whereas it is a very hard thing to feel oneself crushed and mortified at every turn, yet the skill of a sweet and charitable mother gets the bitter pills swallowed with the milk of a h61y friendship;" To a superior who had failed somewhat against charity in an effort to establish religious observance, St. Francis de Sales sent this gentle correction: "Your zeal was quite good, .but it had the defect of being a little bitter, a little severe, a little exacting; now we have purified it from this; it will henceforth be sweet, mild, gracious, peaceful, fore-bearing." True charity requires the maintenance of a correct balance be-tween self, God, and the neighbor. This is had through the exer-cise of the virtue of humility, one of the finest qualities to be found in authority. Thus, along with charity St. Francis would have humility as the mark of the superior. "Be~very simple; . . . humble yourself without discouragement; encourage yourself without pre-sumption." The saint at times treats this virtue of humility in the sense of repression of inordinate movements of self. For example, to a superior giving way to impatience amid the trials of dealing with subjects, he wrote: "Gradually tame down the vivacity of your spirit to patience,' sweetness, and affability amid the littleness, childishness, and feminine imperfections of the sisters who are tender with themselves and inclined to be always teasing a mother's ears." Even .personal imperfections in dealing with subjects can be used 16 Januar~t, 1955 FRANCIS DE SALES' ADVICE as a means of acquiring humility. "Our imperfections in treating affairs, whether interior or exterior, are a great subject of humility; and humility produces and nourishes generosity." II-~Emotional Control St. Thomas Aquinas treats the emotions from the standpoint of good or evil. Love, desire, hope, and joy are possible states in one who looks upon circumstances and persons as good. On the other hand, to regard these things as evil gives entrance to hate, aversion, sorrow, fear, and anger. In the exercise of office, a su-perior meets many difficulties, which, though seemihgly evil, can really be considered as good. Fo~ example, an immediate problem in the direction of the community somehow or other represents God's plan, which can have only good as its final end. Furthermore, to dwell on the defect~ of another is to burden oneself with dislike, aversion, anger. To lovenat least supernaturally--is to bring peace and jo.y into one's outlook. The most common emotional problems confronting authority are worry, anger, and discouragement. For their control and also for the cultivation of a spirit of peace and joy, St. Francis de Sales principally recommends, trust in divine providence and love of neighbor. Anxiety and worry may beset the one in charge of the com-munity. This mental state is reducible to the emotion of fear, which arises when. some evil in the environment seems insuperable. By trusting completely in divine providence, the superior will find a remedy; for God always helps, sends His grace, gives aid. "Up to now the anxiety .about direction and the apprehension of your future superiorsbip have agitated you a little and have often made you vary in thoughts; now that you are a mother of so many daughters, you should remain quiet, serene, and always the same, reposing upon divine providence, which would never have placed all these daughters within your arms and in your bosom without having in some measure destined you an assistance, a help, a grace, most sufficient and abundant, for your upholding and support." In general, St. Francis would have the superior careful in the exercise of charge but without anxiety. "Be painstaking, but keep from eager solicitude." He does not, of course, analyze every ty.pe of worry; but be does mention how to avoid it in the making of decisions, and warns lest ufidue concern over personal imperfection and inadequacy interfere with proper direction of subjects. 17 EDWARD J. CARNEY Reoiew t~or Religious The saint points out that in important matters a superior may~ delay giving an answer. "Do not be quick to promise, but ask time to make up your mind in matters of any consequence. This is fitting in order to secure the good success of our affairs and to nourish humility." However, such a manner of acting differs from inde-cision, which comes from a fear of making an error in choice. St. Francis wishes the superior to rely completely on God and, once a decision has been made, to refrain from ceaseless examination on the course chosen. "When you have decided that something ought to be done, walk securely and fear nothing, regarding God as often as you can." "The resolution baying been taken, one should con-tent oneself with this, that on whatever side one turns the affairs of this world, there will always be much to be desired and to be. discussed, so that, after one has formed one's determination, one should not occupy oneself in sighing after the imagination of better things but in properly overcoming present difficulties, which, more-over, we cannot escape without encountering others greater, since every place is full of them." Sometimes a superior is beset by.a feeling of inadequacy. This may arise from many sources; such as, from lack of background or from personal defects in the spiritual life. Besides being a cause of internal worry and discouragement, it may prevent the superior from giving advice or counsel to the subjects. St. Francis de Sales wishes the one in charge of the community to trust in God and not to use personal imperfection as an excuse for omitting instruction to others. "If nobody worked for souls except those who have no difficulty in their exercises and who are perfect, you would have no father in me; we are not to give up consoling others because we are in perplexity ourselves. How many good doctors are there who are far from being in good health, and how many beautiful paintings are made by ugly painters? When, therefore, your daugh-ters come to you, tell them simply and with charity what God may" inspire you with--and do not send them away from you empty." Worry is not always limited to an immediate problem. Often it is anticipatory, even of the very distant future. In most cases, such difficulties never materialize. If they do, they are not as great as expected. Undue care tends to make the imagination overexag-gerate, to face issues not singly, as they generally occur, but in ac-cumulation. Such troubles are harder to bear than those of reality. "And so, my dear daughter, the multitude of difficulties terrified you; and you bad thoughts of giving it all up: meantime, you have 18 January, 1955 FRANCIS DE SALES" ADVICE' found that all is done. It will be the same with all the rest; per-severance will overcome everything." St. Francis de Sales would have the superior ask for grace and help to face each present mo-ment and then leave the future in the hands of God. "The true servant of God is not solicitoUs for the morrow; she executes faith-fully what He wants today, and tombrrow what He wants; and, after tomorrow, what He shall want then." "Our Lord does not will us to ask our annual bread, or monthly, or weekly, but daily. Try to do well today, without thinking of the next day: then on the next day, try to do the same; and do not think of all you will do during the whole time of your office; but go from day to day fulfilling your charge without increasing your solicitude, since your heavenly Father who has care today will have care tomorrow, and, after tomorrow, of your guidance, in proportion as, knowing your infirmity, you hope only in his providence." Yet divine help is not always given immediately or in the way requested. God acts as He sees fit, and the superior must wait His aid with both patience and courage. "But to work well in this business, 'there is needed an un-conquerable courage and the awaiting of the fruit in patience." In many of his directives to superiors, St. Francis de Sales urges sweetness and mildness. This is equivalent to advising con-trol of anger, which arises as a reaction against some hindrance to one's own will. Under its influence one may unduly assert a per-sonal course of action without consideration of the harm done to the feelings of others. For example, improper anger may spring up when a superior sees a subject violating the Rule or guilty of some fault worthy of reproof. St. Francis warns against correc-tion through ill-controlled anger, pointing out that by it the weak may be discouraged and 'that mildness .itself is more efficacious. "But still, as you know, while remonstrating earnestly, you must use love and sweetness; for admonitions have a better effect so; and, otherwise, one might drive away these somewhat feeble hearts." Furthermore, the saint advises the superior to show special atten-tion to those who commit faults and to rely on the help of Christ and of Mary in this task of exercising mildness towards the neigh-bor. "Be .very tender with regard to those who are more imperfect, to help them profit by their imperfection. Bear in ~mind that a very impure soul can attain a perfect purity if well assisted . Note that those who have the greatest number of bad inclinations are those who can reach a greater perfection." "Do not get angry; . . . recognize that our Lord and our Lady, having laid upon you the 19 EDWARDJ. CARNEY Reoiew [or Religious distraction of the house, know well and see that you are disturbed therein; but they do not cease to love you provided that you are humble and trustful." Discouragement, arising when some hoped-for good seems un-attainable, may afflict the one in charge of the community. St. Francis mentions some examples of this trouble. One deals with the impatience of the superior who, wishing the community to ad-vance in the spiritual life too quickly, becomes downcast when im-perfections still remain. Progress, of course, must always be made, but gradually; and minor imperfections do not detract from the essential beauty of a good work. "That there have been-some acts of impatience, immortification, disdain, disobedience, self-love cer-tainly cannot be denied; still, for all that, the substance of the af-fair does not cease to be good and according to God's will. All the defects which occur in a good work do not spoil its essential goodness." Another source of discouragement to superiors is the criticism directed against them. St. Francis de Sales counsels against too great sensitivity, pointing out that the occasions which give rise to com-plaint are often insignificant, advising consultation with one's coun-selors and complete trust in God's providence. "Take good care not to fall into any discouragement when you are murmured at or criticized a little. No, my dear daughter; for I assure you that the business of finding fault is very easy and that of doing better very 'difficult. There needs but very little ability to find fault, and something to talk about, in those who govern or in their govern-ment; ¯ and, when someone reproves us or points out to us the im-perfections in our conduct, we ought to listen quietly to it all: then lay it before God, and take counsel with our assistant sisters; and after that do what is considered best, with a holy confidence that God will bring all to His glory." Insofar as possible the saint would have the superior remove any objective reason for such criti-cism. "The diligence of superiors ought to be great in applying a remedy to the very lightest murmurings of the community. For, as great storms are formed by invisible vapors, so in religion great troubles come from very light causes." There are, of course, many other types of discouragement in a superior's life; and sometimes these contribute towards a desire for removal from office even before expiration of term. To seek such an escape may be equivalent to manifesting insufficient trust in divine providence. No longer relying on God, the superior turns 2O danuar~t, 1955 FRANCIS DE SALES' ADVICE to self and to other human' beings--means always inadequate. A wish for relief from the burdens of the superiorsbip arises. In such a case St. Francis de Sales would recommend humility and confidence, in God's providence. Humility leads one to recognize that through self nothing can be achieved. Trust in divine providence brings the recognition that through God much is possible. To a superior in such a state of mind, St. Francis sent the following words: "Remain at peace then, my dear daughter; be a mother, and a good mother, as long as God shall so ordain." In moments of discouragement the one in authority may wonder to what degree the natural affection of the subjects is possessed. St. Francis would have the superior avoid" such a consideration and simply serve God courageously in all events. "I do not want you to be so tender, but like a strong woman to serve God with a good courage, looking at Him alone; and, therefore, when those thoughts as to whether people like you or not come into your mind, do not even look at them, assuring yourself that they will always like you as much as God wills." " Since human nature is weak and subject to failure, it would be very difficult to achieve a complete control of the emotions. Thus, the superior may be shaken with internal worry, anger, and dis-couragement. However, St. Francis de Sales does advise an external appearance of calm and peace in spite of thes~ inward troubles. "Take great care to maintain your exterior in a holy equableness. And if you have any trouble in your mind, let it not appear outside." The emotional stress present in everyday life may from time to time increase. If it does, a common difficulty is possible. The practical judgment ldecomes faulty, and suspicion enters into the evaluation of persons and situations. Proper relaxation and or-dinary care of health are helpful preventives. Thus, St. Francis counsels a superior "not to be overcharged with excessive care." To another he writes: "Take care of your health that it may serve you to serve God." Ex&ssive austerities may likewise be injurious to health and judg-ment. "To eat little, work hard, have much worry of mind, and refuse sleep to the body is to get much work out of a horse which is in poor condition without feeding him up." Without depreci-ating the vhlue of external mortification--always to be regulated by the Rule~t. Francis was of the belief that the interior repres-sion of the passions and the cultivation of the corresponding vir-tues are of more importance. "Do not burden yourself with too 21 EDWARDJ. CARNEY many vigils and austerities, my dear daughter; for I know well what I am saying in this. But go to the ro~tal port of the religious life by the royal road of the love of God and your neighbor, of humility and gentleness." "For my part, I should greatly approve that you do nothing but simply follow the community in all things, whether in mortifications or in whatever it may be. It seems to me that it ought to be the principal practice of a superior, this going before her daughters in the simplicity of doing neither more nor less than they do. For this causes her to be greatly loved, and marvelously keeps the spirit of her daughters in peace." Another of St. Francis' recommendations to superiors is an at-titude of peace and joy, even in the midst of troubles. Union with God is the source of such optimism. "And in all events it behooves to remain at peace in the will of God, for which ours is made." "Take care to preserve the peace and tranquility of your heart; let the waves growl and roll all around about your back, and fear not; for God is there: and, by consequence, safety." A consideration of heavenly reward also contributes towards this spirit of tranquillity. "My dear daughter, you are a spouse, not as yet of Jesus Christ glorified, but of Jesus Christ crucified; for which cause° the rings, the rich chains, and ornaments which He gives you, and which He wants you to wear, are crosses, nails, and thorns; and the marriage feast is gall, hyssop, and vinegar. In heaven above we shall have the rubies, diamonds, and emeralds, the wine, manna, and honey." . (To be continued.) BACK NUMBERS AVAILABLE Complete sets of back numbers are available for 1948, 1949, 1951, 1952, 1953, and 1954. The sets for each of these years sell at $3.00 for the United States and Possessions, and Canada; all other countries, $3.35. Individu'al copies of the following are still available at 50 cents per copy in the United States and Possessions, and Canada; all other countries, 60 cents each. 1943--January. 1944--January, March, May. 1945--November. 1946--'july. 1947--,Jan., May, July, Sept., Nov. 1948--Jan., May, ,July, Sept., Nov. 1949--March, May, July, Sept., Nov. 1950--March, Sept., Nov. 1951--March, May, July, Sept. 1952--March, May, July, Sept., Nov. 1953--Jan., March, May, July, Sept. 1954--A11 numbers. Please order from our business ot~ce in T6peka, and enclose check or postal money order to cover the amount. Postage will be paid by us. Address: Back Numbers Department Review for Religious 606 Harrison Street Topeka, Kansas 22 Though!:s on t:he Cont:empla ive Lit:e Mother M. Immaculata, P.C. IN view of the great mass of literature by both ancient and modern writers on the subject of contemplation, the title might indicate an unnecessary addencluro! Yet, while it is certainly true that the growing interest of our own age in the subject of contemplation has occasioned a new influx of books on the sub-ject, it remains a fact that much of that interest is mere curiosity, the seeking after something occult or thrilling, and that souls who are earnestly seeking something to satisfy the insatiable hunger left in them after earthly pleasures have waned remain in a state of confused uncertainty about the meaning of total renunciation and union with God in solitude. Contemplation has become al-most a byword of our generation. How many really know what it means? Words nowhere display their inadequacy so completely as when one must use them in writing of contemplative union with God. The greatest contemplative will always be the Virgin Mother of God; yet she has left us no words with which to teach us, save only that her soul magnified the Lord and that she rejoiced in Him. Nothing of the darkness, suffering, and desolation which were hers as coredemptrix has come down to us in words, save that cry which was wrung from. her Immaculate Heart on the one occasion on which we know she spoke to her divine son: "Son, why hast Thou done so to us?" Before any words were coined, before the creation of the ma-terial world, the contemplative spirit lived in heaven where the seraphim and cherubim lay in prostrate adoration before the most Holy Trinity in a state of overflowing bliss. These were the first contemplatives, whom we hope one day to join. There were contemplatives in the Old Testament, but 'fear dominated their souls as much as love did. Surely Isaias, behold-ing in spirit the virgin birth of Christ and then that same Redeemer reduced to utter ignominy, was a contemplative. Yet it required the love of our Redeemer Himself to establish .the full contemplative life in His Church, beginning it with the first and greatest con-templative vocation: that given to His own Blessed and Immaculate Mother. Can we imagine a more perfect house of contemplation 23 MOTHER M. IMMACULATA Review for Religious than that of Zachary and Elizabeth, when our Blessed Lady, the very tabernacle of the world's Savior, went about the humble house-hold duties in silent and joyous contemplation of the God within her, who, her duties completed, joined with her aged cousin in prayer and the chanting of the psalms, those mystic songs which even today form the choir prayer of contemplative communities throughout the world? The apostles, whose days were a succession of sufferings, hard-ships, and failures in the building up of the Mystical Body of Christ, were truly contemplative. What better proof of this than St. Paul's words: "'Mibi enim vivere Cbristus est!'" Down. through the centuries, the Church has fully recognized the value of the con-templative life of union with God; in the complex existence of our modern age, she still jealously guards the contemplative spirit which seems--only seems!--to have become rare. When we consider the persecutions which the Bride of Christ is undergoing in our "enlightened" age, I am inclined to make the bold statement that the martyred bishops, priests, religious, and faithful who have bravely confessed Christ by suffering and dying in physical and mental torture under Communistic rule are true con-templatives. As a case in point, we might mention Maryknoll's Bishop Ford, who had a truly contemplative spirit. He is only one of those whose union with, and love for, our Redeemer grew to such proportions, that the tortures and martyrdom he endured must have left only a diaphanous veil between him and the unseen world which is so very real to every contemplative soul. Prayer to a contemplative who has lived the life for forty years is undoubtedly different from the prayer that is essential to any religious or from the prayer of the young and inexperienced nun. There are active religious whose prayer is truly contemplative. Nor is the contemplative vocation given to anyone in its fullness at a given time. Often it seems to be taken for granted that entrance into a contemplative cloistered community "makes" the contemplative. Progression is thought to be a part of the contemplative life; ~ve are born, not made, by grace! Yet, if there is any vocation where a slow and persistent progress is the norm, it most certainly is the vocation of the contemplative. What does the adolescent boy or girl bIessed with a call to the Iife of contemplation know of the life of interior union with God? He or she has God's summons and the virgin soil for His planting; that is all. Gradual growth to maturity, integrity, spiritual strength is as much a part of the 24 ,lanuary, 1955 THOUGHTS ON THE CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE contemplative life as is the growth of an infant to manhood. Neither is it a painless growth! Death of self by continual self-ab-negation and self-effacement is the only really effective process of spiritual growth. And it is never painless! Passive acceptance of God's active and permissive will demands steadfast adhesion to His love. It is not easy.I have seen a leaflet which explained how easy it is to be a saint. In point of fact, sanctity "comes easy" to no one. We are members of a fallen race. Unless there be a steady spiritual progress, the contemplative can, and most certainly will, settle down into a mediocrity which is likely to become a hopeless stagnation. With no specialized ac-tivity, such as the outward apostolate imposes on souls and which brings a certain responsibility, the contemplative can settle into a groove of mediocrity and remain undisturbed in it, rousing her-self only on occasions which become more far-spaced. She can go on through life failing to accept the graces which could lead her to the most intimate union with God, until she finally must appear before Him quite empty handed, since she performed no outward work of the apostolate and only stood still on the high road into which He had beckoned her. If the greatest contemplative of all times, the spotless taber-nacle of God's humanity, mounted to an ever-higher sanctity all her life by the ladder of suffering and sorrow, can we who have inherited from our fallen first parents a constant down-drag of nature think to acquire a painless sanctity? We know that the sorrows of our Lady marked the highest flights of her peerless holi-ness~ until the day when the longing of her Immaculate Heart for eternal union with her divine son burned out the last throbbings of her heart and broke it with love. Although poles removed from Mary, we still may, and can, reach out for a union with God as uninterrupted as a creature's can be. Amidst the duties, trials, joys, and sufferings of daily life, our union can, and should, grow, wherever the call of God may have summoned us. If this is true of the active apostolate, and who will say it is not, how much more of the contemplative? But only too often we mistake true values in our daily lives. We certainly do not look for the fleeting pleasures of the world. We do. not want them; we would not enjoy them. Yet we. often look for peaceful hours of prayer, serene living with our fellow religious, untroubled lives as essential to our growth in union with God. Actually, ,it' is the sufferings, spi~ritual and physical, the little annoyances, Of 25 MOTHER M. IMMACULATA Review [or Religious community life, self-denial in our daily duties, and especially the little misunderstandings, misinterpretations of our Words and ac-tions, the setting aside by others of what we regard as so important that bring us to spiritual maturity and closest union with our divine Spouse. The things that so persistently tend to efface self and re-quire a self-abnegation which often shrivels our hearts, though those around us know nothing of it, are the things that indeed can, and do, lift us to a union with our Beloved as no peaceful prayer can. Only the passive acceptance of God's will can ever give us deep interior peace; and this kind of peace is an absolute requisite for true holiness. Faith grows deeper, more seemingly tangible, in the soul whose prayer becomes ever more uninterrupted. And .every true contem-plative will strive to live more and more in this atmgsphere of true peace which, whether accompanied by sufferings great or small, is union with God. If our Lady's prayer supported the infant Church, it was because her power consisted as much in her ardent love for, and union with, the divine will as in her prerogative as mother of 3esus. The power of the prayer of any contemplative, whether offered in the cloister of a monastery or in the de~ert of the world, is measured by the degree of loving, uninterrupted union with God in the fulfillment of His divine will, rather than by the number of bouts spent on one's knees and the number of penances performed. I have said that the unseen world of faith is very real to the contemplative. Only hearts tbat can envision more than the ma-terial and accidental above them know the true value of those very things. When the apostles knew our divine Lord only from His external words and actions, even witnessing His miracles, they still .knew Him only slightly. But after they bad passed through the darkness of Calvary, bad experienced the loss of everything, and realized their own littleness and cowardice did they begin to see Him as the true Son of God. To see ourselves as mean and ignoble, to know ourselves quite capable of any sin is the beginning--gnly the beginning!---of bumilil~y. And without humility there is no union with God. "He resistetb the proud." Before the apostles had experienced the depth of their own weakness, they were all ready to boast with Peter: "Not I, Lord! . Never will I betray Thee!" The contemplative who fancies herself above the weaknesses of others, wbo pretends to a refined scandalization at the faults of others, shows bet own immaturity in the contemplative life. The 26 Januar~t, 1955 THOUGHTS ON THE CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE great contemplative Teresa of Avila has said that true charity is never surprised at the faults of others. When the apostles had tasted the bitterness of their own weakness, they became fit instruments for the grace of God. The contemplative who has acquired enough self~knowledge to elevate herself above no one is ripe fruit for God's plucking. Standing in darkness, we begin to see into the "world intangible" and to understand true values. The occasions for self-abnegation which come to us can be grasped and taken in swiftdecision when we live in the unseen world where we know the Bridegroom of our soul watches. He upholds us, accepts with a loving hand the seem-ing trifles which the soul gives Him. One day she will find them again in that same loving hand and realize how great a value He has set upon her hidden gifts. Only in the unseen world are her actions fully evaluated, unmistakably understood; and her convic-tion increases that only in that darkness does true light come to her since there alone she sees all, not in the external passing of each action, but in the eternal value of it. The invisible grandeurs of the Christ-life in the soul and in the Church are little realized, though the faithful sometimes catch a rumor of them in solemn liturgical functions. But the eternal values of the unseen world are truly ours; ~and, when we live with ever-growing conviction of the glory and strength hidden beneath external actions of each hidden soul, we have come into true riches. We should not forget that the real mystic is one who is so per-fect an instrument in God's hand that in her highest activity she is 'still closely and passively united to Him, humbly allowing Him to do what He wills with her and humbly "following His will inher every action. That is union with God indeed. Holiness which wants to appear, to make an impression, is not holiness at all. Exter-nal signs of sanctity are not themselves holiness. Their interior cause is holiness in truth. We must strive to be so perfect an instrument in God's hand that He can do what He wills with us or do nothing at all with us if He so chooses. Perhaps this latter is the most ex-quisite form of a soul's acceptance of God's will. Is, then, all our union With God to be centered upon suffering and mortification? Assuredly not. The soul that thoroughly grasps the importance of being lovingly passive in God's hand can afford to be active; for her, prayer accompanies and informs all her actions. Her work is prayer, sprin.ging out of the intense prayer of her hours before the Blessed Sacrament, her chanting of the Divine 27-, MOTHER M. IMMACULATA O~ce, etc. Prayer and work and suffering form the great trilogy of .the contemplative's love of God. In the perfection of contempla-tion, they lose.their separate identities. Only the soul of prayer can make work a prolongation of prayer. Only the soul of such uni-versal prayer is equipped to suffer. Francis Thompson's words in "The Hound of Heaven"-- "Must Thy harvest fields be dunged with rotten death?"-~hold a depth of meaning almost unfathomable. How truly the fields of our kouls are fertilized with the death of self in the daily acceptance of all that so often appears trivial and yet is so searing to our souls. It was another poet who spoke those marvelous words of the Church's greatest lover who had learned that "Love must burn e'er it con-sumes." It is the searing of our self-will which is the mortification spiritual writers speak of as the most important requisite for interior prayer. The disciplining of our hearts in their desires and attach-ments is what constitutes this necessary mortification, not the little exterior mortifications we impose upon ourselves and which often wonderfully flatter our pride. To be able to unshackle ourselves from our attachment to ourselves, our ideas, our plans, our petti-ness, which makes us pity ourselves over every little real or imagined neglect or grievance, is to leave ourselves free and in such liberty of spirit that the Holy Spirit may make the tender chords of our souls vibrate with the music of interior and uninterrupted prayer. Thus will our souls bask in the light of truth: the truth about ourselves which is humbling and salutary; the truth about God, our lover and beloved, which exalts us. I can only repeat the words which God has used to bring strength to a teaching sister who so' graciously expressed her gratitude: It is not the things which en-rich us, but the things which efface us, which lead us steadily up-ward to closer union with God, our heart's beloved. APOSTOLATE OF THE PRESS We have received two booklets--A Brief History of the Daughters of St. Paul and God Gave This Modern World a Modern Religious Congregation--which de-scribe the founding and work of the Daughters of St. Paul. The special mission of this institute is the apostolate of "the editions"--that is, of press, screen, radio, etc. The sisters publish books, newspapers, magazines, etc. They themselves do the printing--from typesetting to binding; and they diffuse this material by direct distribution and by founding traveling libraries and bookstores. The institute, founded in Italy in 1915, was first established in the United States in 1932, at Staten Island, New York. Besides this original foundation, the sisters now have convents in Derby, N. Y. ; Boston, Mass. ; San antoni~o, Texas; Youngstown, Ohio; Alexandria, La. 28 Longevity Religious Women Sister Josephina, C.S.3. THE question often arises pertaining to the years of service in a given religious community. A study was made of the longev-ity of a community of men by Schnepp and Kurz.1 The study embraced 2,380 members of the Marianist order from 1819 to 1951. The mean ayeat death for religious men', according to the above study, was 55.7 years with a standard deviation of 22.4 years. The median age was 61.5 years. In order to compare similar data for women religious, necroiogy data were obtained from two religious communities for women, one in the eastern.part of the United States and the other situated in the midwest. The geographical sampling was felt adequate as the midwestern community reached as far north as Minnesota, west to California, and south to Texas. The two communities supplied for the period 1925 to 1950 the number of religious who died during each year, age at entrance, age at death, and type of work done in the community. For convenience the work was placed in two categories: teaching and housekeeping. To safeguard the iden-tity of the communities, they shall be called Group A and Group B. Both communities are the same in essence as having the same foundress. However, each is independent, with its own provincial and council. Group A numbered 1"81 religious who died in the period from ¯ 1925-1950, of whom 132 were teachers and 49 were non-teachers. Group B numbered 197 deceased members of whom 156 were teachers and 41 non-teachers. The actual number of religious of each community is approximately the same. Table i presents data related to the average age at entrance into the community. The range for both groups was from 14 to 50 years with a mean entrance age of 25.32 years. An important consideration is the actual number of years spent in the religious community. This was obtainedby subtracting the entrance age from the age at death for each member in the study. Table 2 presents the summary for this information. The average age at death was the final aspect of the study. Table 3 summgrizes the evidence for the groups. ZGerald J. Schnepp, S.M., and John T. Kurz, S.M.: "Length of Life of Religious Men: Marianists, 1820-1951," REVIEW FORRELIGIOUS, XII (Jan., 1953), 15-20. 29 SISTER JOSEPHINA TABLE I: AVERAGE AGE AT GROUP N A-~Teachers . 132 Non-Teachers . 49 B--Teachers . 156 Non-Teachers . 41 A ~d B--Teachers . 288 A ~ B--Non-Teachers. 90 A £d B--Teachers and Non-Teachers. 378 ENTRANCE MEASURE MEAN S. D 22.18 4.4 25.72 5.0 24.0 5.0 26.5 4.6 23.3 5.4 24.22 4.8 25.32 5.42 TABLE 2 : GROUP MEAN NUMBER OF YEARS IN RELIGION N MEASURE MEAN S. D A--Teachers . 132 44.4 15.95 Non-Teachers . 49 41.9. 15.95 B--Teachers . 156 34.3 17.25 Non-Teachers . 41 39.95 12.00 A 24 B--Teachers . 288 38.45 17.40 A 24 B~Non-Teachers. 90 41.05 14.70 A ~ B--Teachers and Non-Teachers. 378 38.45 16.65 TABLE 3: AVERAGE AGE AT DEATH GROUP N A-~Teachers . 132 Non-Teachers . 49 B--Teachers . 156 Non-Teachers . 41 A 24 B--Teachers . 288 A ~ B-~Non-Teachers. 90 A ~ B---Teachers and Non-Teachers. "378 MEASURE MEAN S. D 65.85 15.50 67.35 14.25 58.35 17.10 66.75 12.50 63.10 16.95 67.65 13.35 62.76 16.45 Comparing the total average age of women religious 62.75 years with the total average age of religious men 55.7, one may as-sume that religious women have a longer life Span than do religious men. However, the span for the study by Schnepp and Kurz em-braced the years 1819-1951 and the present study the years 1925- 1950. Medical science has made significant advances during the past quarter of a century which no doubt account in part for the longer life span of the religious women ificluded in this survey. 30 The story of the foundress of the Dominican Sisters of the Sick Poor. /V ot:her Mary Walsh Sister Mary Teresita, O.P. sISTER MARY sat down at the old pine table that served as her desk to write a letter to a friend. It was late October, 1887. The little group of lay tertiaries of, which she was the head was still very small. Katie .Barrett, her companion of the first strenuous years, the sharer ot~ her brightest hopes and dreams, had just left her after nine years together. Katie was tired out from the exhausting physical labors required of her, and the enthusiasm which had been hers in the beginning had now turned into dissatisfaction and discontent. Many years later Katie Barrett would re-enter Mary Walsh's life, bringing sorrow and an almost unbearable trial. On this day Mary Walsh could only look back. If she could have foreseen the future, she would have rejoiced; for that little group would some day be known as the Dominican Sisters of the Sick Poor and would achieve her cherished hopes and ideals, nursing the sick poor from eleven convents in various cities throughout the country. She thought of her birth in London and her quick exodus from there after the death of her parents from black diphtheria. The memories of her childhood were indeed pleasant as she mentally relived those happy times with her grandmother in County Limerick, Ireland. As a child she was affectionate and intelligent, quick and lively with many charming ways--and others perhaps not quite so charming; for her temper was as quick as her affections and her dislikes as decisive as her busy and curious little mind. When she was eighteen, her grandmother died; and she had to face the problem of making her own living either there or elsewhere. She decided to leave for the United States at the earliest opportunity. She arrived in this country as a ward of her uncle, who took her to live with his family in Philadelphia. Emerging a year later as a young wo-man of poise and grace, of gentle dignity, of chaste and joyous charm, but with limited educational benefits, she decided to try her fortune in New York where so many others of her race had sought a live-lihood. Securing employment as a laundress, she lived alone and friendless in a big and noisy city, endearing herself everywhere with her simplicity and inner peace. 31 SISTER J~IARY TERESITA Review [or Religious She remembered especially an August morning in 1876, not long after her arrival in the metropolis. The morning dawned, bringing with it the threat of showers, as dark, restless clouds scurried across the gray sky. She was hurrying along the streets of New York's lower East Side intent on the day's work. A child's pitiful cry emanating from a nearby tenement arrested her attention. Mary's response to the child's mournful plea of, "My mother's .sick, and I don't know what to do," was to reassure her gently and follow her up the rickety steps to a foul-smelling, unkempt one-room apartment. Filled with mixed emotions of sadness and anger at the sight that greeted her, and despite the disconcerting dryness in her throat, she managed to utter a few comforting words to the young mother who lay in the corner almost unconscious, with a dead infant at her side. Fright was mirrored in the stricken eyes of several other youngsters who stood huddled against a nearby wall. This stranger's unmistakable sincerity and personal interest in their welfare made a deep impression on the Dunne's; and, be-fore many .days had passed, the sick mother's spirits were soon revived. In the meantime, however, Mary found" herself unemployed. Taking care of the Dunne family all day long had necessitated neglect of the laundry work by which she made her living. When con-fronted with an ultimatum by her employer, her conscience and the dictates of charity left her only one choice. She would continue caring for this poor family that was on the brink of disaster both spiritually and materially, and God would take care of her. For choosing thus, she was to exclaim in later years, "I knew that day that hereafter I was to give whatever I had to those poorer than I. I said to myself, That's to be your life, Mary Walsb, to give what you have to the poor." At times the magnitude of the offering and the arduousness of the sacrifices ahead would almost overwhelm her, but she would never waver. Almost in a single focal point her inner desires came to bear with sharp intensity. Briefly and most effectively her new career was launched. This incident was to influence her whole life. Though not conscious of it, at that time she was laying the foundation of her real vocation as a benefactress and friend of Christ's sick poor, no matter what race, creed, or color. It-was amazing with 'what alacrity the local tradesmen were willing and eager to help this young woman in black. Though a stranger to most of them, her genuine honesty and simple eloquence won their support. The candor in her eager 32 Januarg, 1955 MOTHER MARY WALSH ~yes, the enviable integrity which her strong features displayed,, and her cheerful disposition enabled this obscure young laundress to effect an immediate and overwhelming response from everyone to whom she appealed. That was in 1878; and that was when the thought struck her that perhaps there might be other young women who would, if made aware of the appalling misery in their midst, help to alleviate it. It was then that Katie Barrett, with an enthusiasm as eager as her own, joined her; and together they began the work of nursing the sick poor in their neighborhood. She herself recalled this period in later years when talking to the sisters. "We lived on the West Side in two rooms on the top floor for two years. We went there late in 1879. We worked insofar as it was pgssible, i.e., only the first three days of every week, in order to spend the rest of the week among our beloved poor. We did laundry work--washing and ironing--in our own little flat. It was hard to maintain an even division of time, because often we couldn't get the clothes dry or laundry bundles were larger than we expected; and we were urged to accept more washing than we could take care of. That was a temptation of no mean size, for we needed the money desperately. We worked to earn money to pay our rent and food and to buy supplies for the poor and sick, for our begging campaign could not take care of the .many needs. We saw so many people who were in greater need of food than we were that we could enjoy our humble fare much better when we shared it. Many a/time we had only bread and water and enjoyed it. Our plain black dresses and the large wicker basket that we carried soon became symbols of begging in the neighborhood." Now, in 1887, Sister Mary was writing to Father Nevins, the spiritual director of her little group, to tell him that Katie had left them, It was hard for her to understand Katie's attitude because her own love for the sick poor had increased a hundredfold during the years. Father Aloysius Russell Nevins, C.S.P., had assumed the direc-tion of the little group only a few years before, but he knew the few tertiaries quite intimately, and Katie's defection was a sad blow for him also. His invaluable advice and counsels were a great'bul-wark in those early days when so many of the clergy regarded Mary Walsh as an impractical visionary. They would denounce her as trying to effect a century of progress in a decade. Amazing indeed ,were the results she accomplished in spite of these many handicaps 33 SISTER MARY TERESITA Review/:or Religious and setbacks. The years began to pass by more rapidly. Her days were even more crowded with work and responsibilities. Her health was grad-ually weakening, too; but she paid no attention to it, for, as a Ter-tiary of the Dominican Order, her increasing pains and difficult vision could not prevent attendance at her religious exercises and at her work. Meanwhile, the little band had grown quickly and just as quickly had dwindled. The utter poverty, physical hard-ships, and the rigors of religious life without the compensations afforded by a recognized order proved to be too ~nuch for the many, young enthusiasts who tried to live the life. Some twenty years later, in 1900, Si'ster Mary found herself with still only one com-panion, little Sister Teresa as she affectionately called the young sister who was in delicate health. When she was only five years old, Sister Teresa had come to live with Sister Mary. An aged uncle bad become Teresa's guardian at the death of bet parents, and she lived with him over a year when his health began to fail. It was the uncle's urgent request to Sister Mary, who bad been nurs-ing him through his last illness, that she take and care for the little girl. This Sister Mary did; and the playful, joyous, though always delicate youngster grew up sharing the sisters' life of poverty and hardship. Her one ambition was to become one of "Sister Mary's Sisters" when she was of age. This she did and chose the name of Sister Teresa. Though only eighteen at this time, she was a source of joy and consolation to Sister Mary in the dark and somewhat ominous days they 'shared. The turn of the century ushered in renewed hope and increased life through a transfusion of young, fresh blood into the hardened arteries of the struggling group. Upon the death of Father Nevins, ¯ the Reverend Peter J. O'Callaghan, C.S.P., became the spiritual guide of the little band. With flashing blue eyes and a firm, strong mouth which knew no indecision, Father O'Callaghan's very ap-pearance disseminated vigor and enthusiasm. Together they dis-cussed the possibilities and hopes for Sister Mary's work and the eventuality of becoming a recognized branch of the Church's fam-ily. Though Father O'Callaghan was sixteen years her junior, Sister Mary accepted him as her spiritual superior and would always ac-cept his counsels and advice as the word of God in her behalf, though in a short wh.ile that voice would assume a harsh note and force her into disharmony with her beloved community. In 1903, Sister Mary received an application from a young wo- 34 danuar~, 1955 MOTHER MARY WALSH man who she realized was no ordinary aspirant. In explaining the work and ideals of the community to Miss Brown, she stressed their extreme poverty. To the former school teacher she said, "We nurse the sick poor in their own homes. We accept no money for our work, and we make no distinction among our patients. Their color, religion, or lack of it, is no barrier to our services. You must know that we are very poor ourselves and live by the charity of others." The newcomer listened attentively and expressed her willing-ness to share their life. Elation and gratitude filled the heart of Sister Mary, for here was a candidate with the advantages of a good education and many friends in the neighborhood and who could do much to make known the plight of the sick poor. Within two months the infectious personality of Sister Annette, as she was called, bad gained for her the love and esteem of all the sisters, especially Sister Mary and Father O'Callagha9, who were quick to appraise the talents of this newcomer. Her business acumen was remarkable: and it is, therefore, not hard to understand that she was appointed treasurer of the group in such a short time. Realizing l~er capabilities and the respect she had won for herself both in religious and business matters and thinking of the advance-ment of the community, Sister Mary approached Father O'Callaghan and with characteristic humility suggested that Sister Annette be named superior in her stead. At first he was much abashed at such a precedent, but Sister Mary's persuasive humility and depth of sincerity won his approval. Thus in March of 1903, only a few months after her entrance, Sister Annette was appointed superior and Mary Walsh, after twenty-seven years of hard work, humbly and joyfully submitted to this woman of fresh ideas and hearten-ing determination. On that day a new page was written in the his-tory of the Dominican Sisters of the Sick Poor. Prestige and authority show a person's character in its true light. They give rise to the best and the worst in an individual, and at times to a little of both. The fact that Sister Annette was only three months in the community at the time of her appointment gives credence to the forcefulness of her personality. Her auspicious rise in power was recognized by all as something unique. As far as her administrative abilities were concerned, she proved to be all and even more than they had hoped for. It can be said that she accomplished much for the good of the litt!e group and procured many influential friends for it who were to prove lifetime benefactors. However, the qualities which in previous months bad attracted her to the foundre~s, 35 SISTER MARY TERESITA Review for Religious Sister Mary, now only repelled and annoyed her. Sister's unaffected humility she shrugged off as diffidence and timidity, and her ideas and suggestions were relegated to "those belonging to another .era." Subtly, she contrasted the hardships and burdens of Sister Mary's regime with the efficiency of her own. Her host of wealthy friends had been able to help the community a great deal in financial mat-ters. Unfortunately, however, things were not all as they appeared to be on the surface, for Sister Annette had fallen victim to a strange illness. Refusing medicaI attention, she would retire to her room for days at a time; and then as suddenly as it had come on the ill-ness would leave and once again she would be her old self. Sister Mary's keen mind appraised the situation; and, after long and prayerful deliberation, she decided to make known her fears to Father O'Callaghan. She was sure that Sister Annette had fallen prey to an indiscreet use of the narcotics to which she had access. Though at first she used them cautiously, as time progressed and her resistance was weakened, she succumbed to them completely. The mainspring of Sister Mary'scharacter was a dogged, stub-born, self-willed courage. Fired with love for her community, she presented the facts to Father O'Callaghan. Sister Mary knew that it would be di~cult to tell him these things, for the priest had the greatest admiration and respect for Sister Annette, but she never dreamed what the outcome would be. The priest listened quietly, his burning blue eyes showing their disbelief, his stern profile slightly contemptuous and his voice calm but openly rebuffing her. Yet, she found herself speaking with a calmness to match his own, which was astonishing in the face of such a grave situation. He could not believe that Sister M~ry was capable of harboring such uncharitable thoughts, and in no uncertain terms he made his position clear. It was his opinion that Sister Mary was unduly critical and perhaps regretful of her lost authority. It was true that it was at her own suggestion that Sister Annette assumed of-rice, but perhaps now she wanted it back. With eyes lowered and a heavy heart, Sister Mary replied slowly and placidly, "I want the best thing.for the community now as. always. I have .told you the truth with the good of the community and nothing else in mind." Father O'Callaghan, too, wanted the best thing for the com-munity, but it was very hard for him to accept this strange story, and he thought that perhaps it might be Sister Mary, herself, who was sick. Partial blindness had been threatening her for some time 36 #anuarg, 1955 MOTHER MARYWALsH now; and the years of exhausting, body-bending and heart-break-ing work had no doubt exacted their toll. Always quick to ~each a decision, he flatly stated that as her spiritual director, he advised that she leave her community for an. indefinite time. Confirmed in strength that was not and never could be her own, she asked, "Father, where am I to go?" "To St. Michael's Villa in Englewood, N. J. The Sist'ers of St. Joseph of Peace are in charge. I shall arrange that you will have a private room and you will be responsible only to me." "How long will that be?" she inquired. "For a year at least." And continuing, he added, "I impose silence on you in all matters pertaining to the community." The crucible of adversity and sufferings, misunderstanding, and rebuttals was to claim Mary Walsh for its own. No saint ever.went through this life without realizing the inseparable connection be-tween the cross here and the crown hereafter. Few were giyen more opportunities than Sister Mary to m~ake a perfect con, nection. Arriving at the lonely station in Huntsville, Sister Mary looked in vain for someone to direct her to St. Michael's Villa. The station was empty though, and tears o~ loneliness welled up within her. As she began the long walk to the Villa; however, the. fund of divine grace, accumulated through the years, began to shine through. She felt the peace of Christ flood her with strength and acquiescence, with consent and joy. The flow of tears ceased, and she went on from the station more tranquil and freed from the nervousness and strain of this severe trial. A brief excerpt from her little notebook revealLher inner sentiments: "Oct. 6, 1903--Sent out of my home. God forgive my sister. God forgive my sister. I arrived in Huntsville, could get no carriage. Had to walk one and one-half miles through a lonely wood with my little bag and bundle. I felt the weight of them so much, but I thought of our Lord carrying His cross. I felt the bitterness of exile. How good God is to bring me to live with Himself when I am driven out of my own home. It is very lonely but God is here and that is the best of all.'.' Another disappointment soon befell her. Father O'Callaghan, the man who had sent her on her via dolorosa, was taken from her. For years now the sisters had benefited from his wisdom and prudence, so it was with deep regret that they learned of his trans-fer to a large parish in Chicago. Sister Mary was perhaps the most deeply affected by this change; for, though their opinions had di- 37 SISTER MARY TERESITA Review/:or Reliqious verged on many questions throughout the years, their souls were kindred spirits, united in tireless love and service to Christ and the sick poor. In later years it was to be said of him that he knew the mind and heart of the foundress better than anyone else. However, he continued to direct Sister Mary by way of the written word, and within a year he sent for her to join him in Chicago. For the remaining years of her exile, she worked as sac-ristan in his parish, living in silence and acute loneliness. Never once did she refer to her little community, which was now a legal cor-poration in the State of New York. Under Sister Annette's super-vision both the personnel and scope of work had expande'd, and the future was beginning to take on a brighter hue. Once again the faultless intuition of Sister Mary, which was bred of faith and true charity, had proven itself. Sister Annette's condition had become markedIy worse and her unfortunate addic-tion to narcotics was beginning to play havoc with the struggling group. Diocesan authorities intervened, and on November 23, 1906, she was admitted to St. Vincent's Retreat, Harrison, N. Y., for psychiatric care. Discharged seven mdnths later as cured, she led an exemplary and truly Christian life until the time of he~ death some twenty-five years later. Immediately, the sisters petitioned Father O'Callaghan for Sister Mary's return. He sent for her at once and, without any reference to her years of unfair exile, stated that she would once again assume command of the community at the request of the sisters and in com-pliance with his own wishes. This she did joyfully and never once alluded to the past. There was only one cloud to darken Sister Mary's homecoming. It was the absence of little Sister Teresa, who had died during Sister Mary's exile. Though the young sister bad written often, she had never once mentioned the serious condition of her health; and her death came as a severe blow to Sister Mary. The task of straightening out the many loose ends which her predecessor had left was a difficult one: but often, when deluged by the multitudinous problems which almost never abated and from which she never flinched, she would seek and find in daily prayer the support and supernatural strength she needed. Soon her charity became a byword in the neighborhood. She was ever ready at a moment's notice to assuage pain, to give advice, and to enter into every trial of those who sought her aid. A soul so richly endowed with the gifts of nature and of grace, as intelligent as she was holy, as cheerful as she was prayerful, as sensible as she was recollected, 38 d'anuar~j, 1955 MOTHER MARY WALSH free from any of the harshness or oddity which tend to make holy people offensive to others, she had the power of attracting souls. It was the ardent desire of Sister Mary to see her little com-nhunity placed on a more stable basis; for she realized that many of the young applicants, so zealous and enthusiastic and full of good will, needed the protection and he.lp of a recognized community as well as the work so dear to them. Toward this end both she and Father O'Callaghan would work indefatigably. It was natural that they would decide to affiliate with the Dominican Order since all of the sisters were Third Order members. Fortunately, Father O'Cal-laghan was able to influence a young Dominican priest in their cause. Father John T. McNicholas, O.P., later Archbishop of Cin-cinnati and lifelong friend of the community, was sympathetic toward the little group: but he xvishedto proceed cautiously. After his first meeting with the foundress, whom he described as a "light that could not be dimmed," he entered into the project wholeheart-edly. Later on he was to say.of Sister Mary: "Her.willingness to wait and her confidence that God would bless her work impressed me beyond measure. I could never forget her firm resolve that her community should accomplish its aim only under the aegis of Saint Dominic." August 4, lC/! 0, feast of St. Dominic, was indeed a day of glad rejoicing; for the long-sought approval had arrived. The Very Reverend Hyacinth Cormier, O.P., Master General of the Dominican Order, who earlier in the struggle had proved himself a staunch supporter of their work, now officially received them into the order. Henceforth they were to be known as the Dominican Sisters of the Sick Poor and were to enjoy all the graces and privileges of St. Dominic's daughters. After several unsuccessful attempts to secure a novice mistress from one of the many Dominican Sisterhoods, Sister Mary finally achieved success when Mother M. Vincentia, O.P., Mother General of the Dominican Sisters of St. Mary of the Springs, Columbus, Ohio, consented to grant a year's leave of absence to Sister M. Fred-erica for that purpose. Father McNicholas inquired somewhat hesi-tantly whether Sister Mary, as superior, was planning to go through the novitiate training with the other sisters. She told him, "I also must learn about the religious life. I, more than the others, need the benefit of that important training." Writing for religious I find it hardly necessary to emphasize the adjustment'necessary for novitiate training. Imagine with what 39 SISTER MARY TERESITA Review for Religious difficulty a woman of sixty years, worn out with the physical and mental hardships of more than thirty years of labor, possessed of an ardent nature and quick temper, had to fight the tiring battle of self-conquest under a loving but strict disciplinarian. With total forgetfulness of self and her infirmities, Sister Mary sought no dis-pensations from the novitiate rules kept by those forty years her junior. No other sister in the whole group was more conscious of her failures and shortcomings. Sister Frederica was later to say of her, "Sister Mary accepted correction better than any other religious I ever knew. I gave her many penances and humiliations, but never once did she show any signs of disobedience or pride. I wonder now how I could have been so strict with her." At this time Sister Mary was a mature woman in her early sixties, disci-plined by years of suffering and pain and tested in the crucible of unjust criticism; but her shining purity of motive, unremitting labor and d~votion in the cause of fostering her work among the poor, her personal humility and austerity made her an example to all the other novices. At the end of the canonical year, Sister Mary asked Father Mc- Nicholas to use his influence in.retaining Sister Frederica for another year as superior and novice mistress. In a somewhat incredulous tone he asked, "Have you not had enough corrections?" "Oh no, Father!" she quickly answered. "Sister Frederica is a wonderful religious. She has had a hard task training us old women. I would like her to continue to act as our superior for another year, directing the lives and exercises of the sisters, as if we were going through the canonical novitiate again." Kindly disposed toward the little community and recognizing the true worth of Sister Frederica's work among them, Mother Vin-centia agreed to the proposal. Rejoicing at their good fortune, Sister Mary expressed herself to Father McNicholas, "We need further trials. We'must be put to further tests if we are to be good religious. As for myself, I know that only in the fire of humiliation can this stubborn will of mine be bent to the yoke of God's will." Perhaps one of the greatest proofs of Mary Walsh's humility are the words of one who tried and tested its worth, her novice mistress. In a conversation with Sister Hyacinth some years later, Sister Frederica said, "You will find that Sister Mary's humility will keep things in balance under all circumstances. It permits her to recognize her. own nothingness in the face of God's perfection. Many read of such humility, but few are privileged to live with it."' 4O Januar~l, 1955 MOTHER MARY' WALSH During these years when Sister Frederica was in charge of the newly formed community, Katie Barrett once again cast her shadow. It was her desire to join the growing community now that it was officially established in the Church. Sister Mary, a novice at the time, referred her to Sister Frederica, who recognized signs of in-stability and rejected the candidate. Katie was annoyed and in-dignant. She went away with great feelings of resentment against Sister Mary, who actually had nothing to do with the decision of Sister Frederica. The years began to pass quickly now, and the fullness of the religious life would help Mary Walsh to make great progress in oyercoming her passionate nature. She was to be sanctified by an intense amount of work and sacrifice. She would have the merit of a life of prayer but not the enjoyment of it, for she would pray by wishing she had more'time to pray. Crosses belong in everyone's life, but in hers they played a major role. Perhaps the greatest cross she would have to bear came to her one night in August, 1913. The sisters were sharing the ~imple joys of St. Dominic's feast day, waiting for Sister Mary to come in from her little office where she was glancing through the mail. The sight of a familiar handwrit-ing staitled her with surprise, and eagerly she tore open the letter to see What Katie Barrett bad to say. In this fateful letter Sister Mary read the horrifying accusation that she was the mother of the little orphan girl who later had become Sister Teresa and had shared Sister Mary's work among the sick poor until her death. Katie also stated that this information had been sent to the Arch-bishop of New York and the Dominican provincial. Unrestrainedly Sister Mary wept. "It doesn't seem possible that Katie could invent this falsehood about me. My poor little com-munity! My dear sisters! Will they, too, suffer from this slander?" But, just as quickly as the tears came, they disappeared, and, reach-ing a decision, she added, "I'll put this in the hands of God. He will protect our community, if it be for His honor and glory. With all my heart and soul I believe that." Sister Mary called Sister Reginald, her assistant, into the office and revealed to her the contents of the letter. After prayerful con-sideration Sister Mary said, "The sisters must not know. God will take care of us. I am not afraid now; and there is only one thing I wish for Katie; if she ever needs us, I hope we will learn of it in time to take care of bet." Sister Mary would never have that opportunity, but fifteen years 41 SISTER MARY TERESITA later one of her spiritual daughters would be summoned to a dreary flat where an elderly lady, poor, sick and alone, suffering from arthritis, was badly in need of care. The patient's name was IZatie Barrett. At first she was hostile and unresponsive, but little by little the warmth of sister's charity melted the cold reserve, and one day she spoke to Sister Concepta with a tone of deep sincerity. "I hurt Sister Mary when I wrote that lie and I did her a great harm. Many times I have been sorry that I ever left her." Shortly after that Katie Barrett died and the sisters rejoiced that they had been able to carry out their foundress' wishes on her behalf. Mother Mary Walsh, as she had been called since her vows in 1912, achieved the goal of her lifetime when she saw her com-munity and its work approved by the Church. Her work, like that of the mustard seed in the gospel, had a humble beginning and grew without exterior display; but, with the grace of the Holy Ghost, it had begun to bear fruit. Before Mother Mary's death in 1922, the community had already made another foundation in New York and one in Columbus, Ohio. Plans were made for the opening of another convent in Denver, Colorado, but the foundress did not live t6 see this eventuate. Here was a woman humble of heart, shrinking from e.xterior glory, and animated by the keenest sense of responsibility. There is an undeviating consistence in her character; and this character crystallized into something compact, disciplined through the years of unremitting sacrifice to the triumph of a cause to which she had so long ago dedicated herself. God had raised her up to found a new body of religious women. For this task she had prepared her-self by first conquering self and by a steadfast faith that never wavered nor lost sight of its motivating drive. All she had to do was become like plastic, pliable material and cast herself in a state of absolute dependence and humility into the beautiful and cruci-fying mold of suffering. This she did admirably. Seeking to un-derstand the hidden part humility played in her life, we look to no better source of information than her own words, "I would rather be able to take humiliation well than to raise the dead to life. If I could raise the dead to life, I might still lose my own soul; but if I became truly humble in all things I am assured of salvation." A Saint:'s Last: Le!:t:er [EDITORS' N&TE: This is the last letter written by St. Gabriel of the Sorrowful~ Mother, the young Passionist saint who died February 27, 1862, and was canon-ized on May 13, 1920, The letter, written at Isola, December 30, 1861, is ad-dressed to his brother, Michael Possenti, who later became a doctor and who, when over eighty years of age, was present at the canonization. Michael kept this letter with him constantly. It was his joy to tell others: "The last expression of his love for Mary. his last call to true beauty', his last good-by' written on earth was for me." The present translation was made by' Father ,John Mary Render, C.P,, of Des Moines, Iowa. The translation was made from Lettere di San Gabriele dell" Ad-dolorata: Santuario S. Gabriele dell' Addolorata (Teramo), 1943, pp. 140-45.] My dear brother, ~received your letter at Christmas and appreciated it. In it you reminded me again that I have not written for a long time. True, but what is there to write? I have no particular news to give you. We live in a solitary spot. No one tells me any news, and I thank God I have no desire to know what goes on in the world. What can I tell you then? What little news I have is passed on to you by Dad to whom I am careful to write from time to time. If I wrote to you, I could only write about things that you know already. Michael! Remember that you cannot serve two masters. No one can be occupied with the world and God. Remember that they are mistaken who think that by practicing some devotions or doing some good works they can be saved, while remaining attached to creatures, amusements, and a goc~d time. You know that Jesus Christ said the way to heaven is straight. And another, time He said: "If anyone wishes to come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me." I hope that you do not attend the theater, parties, balls, and such things. While you do take part in social life, I hope that you are prudent enough to keep far from such dangers as I have men-tioned. Michael, believe your brother who speaks to you with his heart on his lips and who wishes only to see you always truly happy--the desire to go to such places without true necessity is most dangerous. To pretend that God will give you the grace not / , to fall into sin on such occasions is foolish presumption. Michael, do you want to love? Then do so by all means, but do you know whom? Love Mary. Who is more beautiful, more lov~ible, more powerful than she? Do not think that, because you cannot see her with your bodily eyes, loving her and speaking with 43 JOHN M. RENDER Review for Religious her brings weariness an'd is empty of consolation. No, consolations, joys will be all the more pure and all the more capable of filling your heart as the soul is spiritual and superior to the body. And then note well that people here on earth cannot make you happy. They are inconstant and deceitful in their love. And even if you should find someone without such defects, ~the one thought of having to separate from them one day will embitter and torment you/ heart, But this will rmt happen tb one who chooses Mary. She is lovable, faithful, constant. She will never let herself be out-done in Iove but will ever remain supreme. If you are in danger, she will hasten to free you. If you hre troubled~ she will console you. If you are sick, she will bring you relief, If you are in need, she will help you. She does not look to see what kind of person you have been. She simply comes to a heart that wants to love her. She comes quickly and opens her heart of mercy to you, embraces you, defends you, consoles you, and even serves you. She accom-panies you during this short time while you travel to eternity. And then (oh, my brother, this is what is most consoling) in that moment, in that very moment, when all will end in unspeak-able bitterness for those who have loved creatures from which they must separate themselves and pass from life here to the eternal home they have built, in that moment, I say, they will speak of these things with indescribable anguish. As though in despair they will say:--O cruel and bitter death, do you cut me off from what has up to now been the object of my heart! But the true lovers of Mary are consoled and welcome death. They separate themselves in peace from the things of this world and remember they are going to possess in reality the, object of their pure love, and they will be happy forever in her presence. Michael, try this; and, if it doesn't happen to you, then tell me I'm wrong. Make a visit every day, morning and evening if possible, to an image of Mary which you like best. Or better still, visit one in a church which is most neglected; and your visit will please her all the more. Sacrifice some object which is dangerous or vain, some- .thing you may have. Offer it at her feet in one of your visits. For love of her abstain from some amusements, companions, or pastimes; at least, from those that are dangerous and lead to evil. Recite the rosary every day out of love for her. Finally, when you feel in-spired to do anything or make some sacrifice for her, do it at once with a great heart and willing spirit and. be convinced that Mary will not be outdone in generosity. 44 January, 1955 SAINT'S LAST LETTER If you think it proper, show this letter to Tess and Pellegrini.1 Remind them that the scene of the present world is passing swiftly away. Tell them to keep God ever before them; and never do anything which could displease Him, not even for all the money in the world. Better to suffer and be patient for a few years here and then to rejoice for eternity than to live in luxury for a few years here and then to suffer, not ten, nor a hundred, nor a thousand, nor a million years, but for eternity. Remind them that God will ask an account not only for their own souls, but also for those of their family. So they must try to brihg them up in the holy fear of God and not according to the maxims of the world. What will they answer in the ~day of judgment, if . . . ? Perhaps you will smile when you read this letter, but that does not matter. He who has written it merits only derision. But re-member that he,who writes does so with his heart in his pen, with-out any aim in the world but the true and real good which you will have to answer for. My only aim after the glory of God is to be able to see us all united on the t~emendous day of judgment under the mantle of Mary, although~ here we are separated. Good-by, my .brother. Do not disdain me. Do what I have told you. It is a matter of eternal happiness or unhappiness. Every sadrifice is important and small. May Jesus and Mary give you and the whole family a very Happy.New Year. My Father Lector, who is so concerned for me, wishes you the same. Greet Dad and all the family. Recommend me to our Blessed -Mother that I may be saved. I seek nothing else. I am content to live retired in holy religion. I would rather by the divine mercy be the least of our brethren that be a son of the king and an heir of the kingdom. At this moment I might have been ordained a priest. But the ruling on the ordinations has prevented me from ascending beyond minor orders,z God wills it this way; so I will it too. Peace be with you. Your dearestbrother, Conf. Gabriel of the Sorrowful Virgin3 1His sister and brother-in-law. 2He received tonsure and minor orders May 25, 1861; and arrangements had been made for him to receive the subdiaconate the following September, then diaconate and the priesthood at Christmastime. But political disturbances made travel dang-erous, and the ordinations had to be deferred. 3Conf. is the abbreviation for Confrater, a title of passionist clerics not yet priests. 45 On Secular Ins÷ifu÷es For those who are interested in secular institutes a fine treatment of that topic in French has appeared under the title, Les lnstituts S~culiers. Descl~e de Brouwer publishes this 402-page book by Jean Beyer, S.J., professor of moral theology and canon law at the Jesuit Seminary in Louvain. The price is listed as 150 francs. A glance at the Table of Contents shows that the subject matter is divided into four parts. (1) A historical treatment of the origins and development of secular institutes (about 55 pages). (2) Astudy of the theology of secular institutes, including such items as the mat-ter of the vows, states of perfection, perfection and the priesthood, the interior life of secular institutes (about 105 pages). (3) Under the caption of legislation about secular institutes, a commentary on the ten Articles of the Provida Mater Ecclesia and on several other prac-tical points (also about 105 pages). (4) A concluding section which gives the text (in French) of various pertinent documents. The first of these are ten pontifical documents, dating from 1801 up to 1952, and including the Apostolic Constitution Pro~2ida Mater Ecclesia, the Motu proprio Primo Felic~'ter, and the Instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious Curn Sanctissirnus. Then follow two short "historical" documents and six "canonical" ones. These latter six documents are examples of decrees establishing a definite pious union and a diocesan secular institute, a decree of praise of a pontifical secular institute, a decree of definitive approba-tion of a pontifical secular institute, a form of "oblation" used by one group at the start.of the "novitiate," and a form of "consecration" used by one pious union for admission of new members. The differ: ent documents fill up about 55 pages. The last 35 pages of the book are devoted to valuable appendixes listing and giving brief descrip-tive notices of pious unions and secular institutes in various stages of approval. Four very short statistical tables summarize the data. The descriptive notices and the tables are concerned with groups nearly all originating in Europe, but of which some have spread to other continents. An extensive bibliography on the subject proper and on related areas, the table of contents, a list of abbreviations, the Preface and Introduction, and interspersing title leaves round out the sum total of pages of this highly competent work. 46 t ook Reviews THI: THEOLOGY OF THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. By Joseph de Gulbert, S.J. Translafed by Paul Barre÷÷, O.F.M.Cap. Pp. x÷382. Sheed and Ward, NewYork, 1953. $4.50. Father De Guibert was one of the most prominent and influen-tial authorities in ascetical and mystical theology during the first half of this century. He was one of the principal founders and editors of both the Reuue d'Asc~tique et M~stique and the Diction-naire de SpiritualitY. For many years he taught this specialty in the Gregorian University, Rome; and this book is a translation of what he used as a textbook or outline for his course there. Hence it is not primarily a devotional treatise, but a textbook for students of the-ology. After an introductory section on the study of "spiritual the-ology," the nature of Christian perfection is considered. Father De Guibert's favorite way of expressing it is to say that it consists "in the ever-growing dominion of charity." Other points discussed in this connection are the relations between observing the counsels and perfection, perfection and union with God or with Christ, union with the Holy Spirit, Christ as the center of all spiritual perfection, perfection and the imitation of God or of Christ, perfection and bearing the cross, and, lastly, perfection and con. formity of will. The third part is given to "The Inspirations and Gifts of the Holy Ghost and the Discernment of Spirits," and the fourth to "Man's Cooperation with God in the Spiritual Life." Next the important .problems of mental prayer are dealt with. Then follows a treatment of the degrees that are to be found in the development of the super-natural life. The final part handles questions relating to infused contemplation. Certain sections of this work are taken up with matter that has been much involved in controversy in recent years. Such are the chapters on contemplation, acquired or infused, the nature of mysti-cal experience, and especially the necessity of infused contemplation for the pursuit of high sanctity. These may be commended to those who are interested, and most of all to those who are not familiar with the views and arguments proposed by Father De Guibert and still would like to consider both solutions to the problem before ,committing themselves to either one. 47 BOOK REVIEWS Ret~ie~J for Religious Among the chapters in this book that seem particularly orig-inal and interesting, one might call attention to three. (1) How should one strike the proper balance in the spiritual life betwen ac-tivity and passivity, between personal initiative and accepted meth-ods, or between the impulses that appear to be inspired by the good spirit and external norms? (pp. 146-154) (2) What is the right attitude toward spiritual direction? Is a director acting within his power if he determines the vocation of a yourig person who seeks his counsel? (pp. 155-185) (3) How are we to conceive the re-lations between the active and contemplative lives? In what sense is the contemplative life superior to the active or mixed life? (pp. 292-301) Though The Tbeolog~ of the Spiritual Life was written for students preparing for the priesthood, it is a work that any intelli-gent person cultivating the interior life could very profitably use. What one should expect from it is not so much inspiration or moti-vation- it does not strive to bring out the vital implications of the great Christian dogmas--but rather a thorough knowledge and understanding of the theory and practice of the supernatural life. For directors it should be on the "must" list; and, to all who would take a more deeply intelligent approach in their quest of ascetical or mystical perfection, .it is very highly recommended. AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD, S.J. THE SECRET OF THE ROSARY. By St. Louis de Mon~forf. Pp. 188. Mon~for~ Publiea÷ions, Bay Shore, N.Y., 1954. $2.50. When canonized saints write "spiritual reading," they seem to dip their pens not so much into ink as into the heroic charity and extraordinary prudence that help them be the saints they are. Hence their books deserve more than ordinary attention, for they inspire to much better than ordinary goodness. This volume is definitely such a book. St. Louis. Mary (born in the Breton town of Montfort, or-dained in 1700, canonized in 1947) was extraordinary even among saints for three realizations, namely, devotion to Mary increases love for 3esus; the rosary is the devotion which (he tells us) Mary "vastly prefers to all other devotions"; and the rosary "is not just a conglomeration of Our Fathers and Hail Marys, but . . . a divine summary of the mysteries of the life, passion, death, and glory of 3esus and Mary . . . a blessed blending of mental and vocal prayer, bywhich we honor and learn to imitate the virtues of the life, 48 danuary, 1955 BOOK REVIEWS passion, death, and glory of Jesus and Mary." St. Louis Mary was not only singularly devoted to Mary and the rosary, but--and this is the second great merit of his book--- he was singularly capable of teaching how to say the rosary well. The brief considerations on the Our Father are better than any others we have ever seen and, with the considerations on the Hail Mater, can serve magnificently as "points" for many meditations. The method, variable according to each one's devotion, of offering each of the fifteen decades is truly a saint's remedy for distractions. Fortunately, St. Louis Mary remembered to add to his book some wise words about "human faith," "pious faith," and "divine faith." These words can help the historical-minded and may pre-vent them. from refusing to let this book help them because they find unwarranted historical assumptions in it. As the Catholic Encyclopedia noted years ago, it was "undoubtedly" Blessed Alan de la Roche (preaching the rosary lovingly and beneficially in 1470-75) who "first suggested" that it had been revealed by our Lady to St. Dominic Guzman (1170-1221). St. Louis Mary and his contemporaries generally accepted Blessed Alan's belief as an historically-proved fact. But the good lessons which the saint draws from Blessed Alan's preaching make this book's historical error very pardonable indeed and very minor.-~PAUL DENT, 8.J. MARY IN DOCTRINE. By Emil Neubert, S.M., S.T.D. Pp. 257. The Bruce Publishing C~o., Milwaukee~ 1954. $4.25. In Mary in Doctrine, Father Neubert, foremost Mariologist among the Marianists, offers a systematic study of the privileges of Mary. While theologically exact and thorough, the book is written especially for the busy priest or religious unable to devote himself to the arduous study of the more specialized works. The book is developed on the basic formula: to the various privileges of the humanity of Jesus there correspond analogous privileges in Mary, in the manner and in the degree required by the difference between her condition and that of her son. The privi-leges of Mary fall into two groups in the author's division. The first are primarily functions; such as, the divine maternity, the universal mediation, and the universal sovereignty; the second are .the privileges accorded to Mary either in view of, or consequent upon, her functions; such as, her Immaculate Conception,. her vir-ginity, and her fullness of gra~e. ~ Chapter by chapter,' the book is a well-laid-ou.t'study of these BOOK REVIEWS Review for R~ligious functions and privileges. Each study is nicely done with clear ex-planation of. the meaning of the dogma, a rather full treatment of its scriptural and traditional background, and a rounded develop-ment of its wider theological implications. Readers will appreciate the clear explanation of what the Church understands by each privi-lege, the adequate treatment of its historical development, the ex. planation of the positions held by the more important adversaries. Father Neubert has written a very practical introduction ex-plaining the process by which the implicit content of revelation con-cerning Mary has become explicit through the ages and the criteria of infallibility that has guarded this de~relopment. Although--perhaps because--Father Neubert has written with the thoroughness and precision of the professional theologian, the book radiates the warmth peculiar to well-handled theological study. It offers a solid doctrinal foundation for a knowledge of Mary that will lead to a practical devotion to the Mother of God. --WILLIAM J. ENNEN, S.J. BORN CATHOLICS. Assembled by F. J. Sheed. Pp. 279. Sheed and Ward, New York, 1954. $3.S0. Those who think that the discovery of the Faith is a phenome-non peculiar to converts are inviting disillusionment when they pick up this book. Born Catholics is a compilation of nineteen accounts of why they are still Catholics, writ'ten by Cath01ics'who were such from infancy or from an age too young for' them to be called converts. The various' contributors are men, and women of varied age and profession, including a philosophy professor, in a Catholic college, a chemistry professor in a non-Catholic colleges artists, writers, names well known to the Catholic reading world, such as. Erik yon Kuehnelt-Leddihn and Caryll Houselander, and names not so well known. The unifying element, besides the fact that the writers were Catholic from an early age, is that they Were known to the assembler. All the ~iccounts, save the last by Hilaire Belloc, were.written for the book by request. It. seems to this reviewer that a greater variety of viewpoints is expressed in this assembly than is found in convert books; and that this book should refute those who think that only the con-verts show spontaneity and originality, the "cradle-Catholics" merely fdllowing where they are led. Some of the writers had to" find their way back to the Church after a period a~ay; most have met crises along the way; and all.have had to face their Faith with art attitude 5O danuar~t, 1955 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS of intelligent examination sooner or later. Nor do the writers ar-rive at a point where they all settle back comfortably viewing the Church with the same regard, without problems, without criticism, without difficulties. The reader is in for an interesting intellectual experience.--ALBERT J. SMITH, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS THE AMERICA PRESS, 70 E. 45th St., New York 17. Mar~t and the Popes. Five Great Marian Letters. Edited by Thomas J. M. Burke, S.J. In this collection Pius IX defines the Immaculate Conception (InelfabiIis Deus), Leo XIII writes on the rosary (ducunda Semper), Pius X speaks of Mary's maternity and mediation (Ad diem Illum Laetissimum), and Pius XII defines Mary's Assumption (Munfffcentissimus Deus), and proclaims the Marian Year (Fulgens Corona). Each letter is followed by study questions. Pp. 107. $1.00. BEAUCHESNE ET SES FILS, Paris, Rue de Rennes, 117. L'Evangile et les Evangiles. Par Joseph Huby, S.J. Nouvelle edition revue et augmentee par Xavier Leon-Dufour, S.J. A classic commentary on the New Testament which is much more than a mere explanation of difficult phrases. It is a book that should be translated into English. Pp. 304. BROTHERS OF THE SACRED HEART, Metuchen, New Jersey. Catechism of the Religious Profession. Many religious must be familiar with the first edition of this excellent book. They will be pleased to learn that in this new edition it has been completely revised. Pp. 158. $2.00. THE BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wis. In the Image of Christ. By John L. Murphy. Books for "spir-itual" reading written specifically for the laity are not too numerous. In this volume Father Murphy applies the doctrine of the mystical body to the practical, every-day realities of life in the world. There are chapters on Marriage in Christ, The Teacher, The Farmer, Christ in Politics, and many others. The book makes good public reading for closed retreats. Pp. 169. $3.00. The Christian Life Calendar. By Reverend Gabriel Ward Haf-ford and Reverend George Kolanda. A truly Christian life is a liturgical life. That is why this calendar gives the layman all the liturgical informatiori he /nay need to live each