Suchergebnisse

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

Issue 53.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1994. ; 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 ¯ V~rashington, 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. MI 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 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 David Werthmann CSSR Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1994 ¯ VOLUME53 ¯ NUMBER5 contents living gospel values 646 Inculturation 658 Timothy Radcliffe OP faces us with the challenge of inculturating the gospel not only in countries aod cultures not our own hut also in our local home situation. Second-Stage Inculturation: Six Principles of the American Mind J.J. Mueller SJ presents the tensions caused for Americans formed by principles embedded in their culture and the ways of thinking and acting which are a part of the Vatican culture. leadership and authority 675 The Challenge of Priestly Leadership J. Peter Sartain reflects on the ministry of leadership entrusted to priests which is at the heart of their call to holiness. 694 Election: A Call to Service Catherine M. Harmer MMS considers the ele'ments involved in an election process in religious congregations for selecting leadership. 703 Authority: An Imitative Charisln A. Paul Dominic SJ examines the authority exercised by Jesus in order to understand the kind of authority we in the church should imitate. continuing formation 711 A Tale of Two Synods: Laity and Clergy Formation Robert L Kinast examines the formation of laity and clergy proposed in recent synods and suggests ways of furthering the relational process between them. 724 Religious Formation and Ecumenical Formation Ernest R. Falardeau SSS reports on the National Ecumenical Consultation for men and women religious which met in April 1994 at Narragansett, Rhode Island. 642 Review for Religious 728 744 751 prayer and growth Contemplative Prayer among Apostolic Religious Women Jeanne Knoerle SP assesses the contemplative attitude in the tradition of apostolic religious women. Shame, Mystical Writers, and a Spirituality of Self James J. Magee DSW clarifies the restorative influence that the Christian mystical tradition can provide for shame-bound religious. The Ought of the Ignatian Quest John P. Mossi SJ examines.the life experience of Ignatius Loyola as a paradigm for searching out God's will for our individual lives. 761 768 774 faith experience Reflection on the Solitary Life Theresa Mancuso explores the richness of the solitary life as living in the hollow of God's hand. My Faith Journey M. Gemma Victorino PI)DM recalls a most important moment of a parent's death for the deepening of a vocational commitment. A Rock to Build On Vincent Hovley SJ challenges us to enter more dynamically into a Eucharistic way of living. departments 644 Prisms 781 Canonical Counsel: The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life 787 Book Reviews Septentber-October 1994 643 prisms One of my favorite sayings is that the church is as healthy as religious life is healthy. I believe that is true. Of course, we may also say that the church is as healthy as the laity are healthy, or as healthy as the bish-ops, priests, and deacons are healthy. St. Paul was the first to reflect about the church in terms of a healthy body. "The eye cannot say to the hand, 'I do not need you,' any more than the head can say to the feet, 'I do not need you'" (1 Cor 12:21). He says directly, "If one member suf-fers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is hon-ored, all the members share its joy" (1 Cor 12:26). Although Vatican Council II took a major step for-ward in our theological understanding of ourselves as church in its Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen gentium), it seems that we now stand poised for further theological development. Perhaps the synod on consecrated life will provide an occasion to explore more adequately the interrelationships of the hierarchical and charismatic elements integral to the church. The synod may at least be a stimulus for raising questions about the centrality of holiness and the role of a significant group of members, identified by a form of Christian life called con-secrated, in the healthy life of the church. Such church members, commonly grouped under the term religious life, are identified as keepers of the spiritual heritages of the Body of Christ. Holiness is God's gift to all members of Christ's Body, but in God's providence it is meant to shine through the Body more brightly because of God's action in calling forth religious life. Religious life is not created or manufactured by human ingenuity; it is not modeled on a guru tradition of pre-Christian reli- 644 Review for Religious gions. It is not legislated into existence by a bishop's decree. Just as God in Jesus and in the Spirit bestows upon the church various hierarchic and charismatic gifts, so the same Lord gifts the church with certain members, both women and men, called and con-firmed in their following of Jesus through evangelical counsels. As with any gift, the church can only receive gratefully--and then care for and make use of--God's graciousness. The synod serves as an example of members of the hierarchy exercising their proper care and reverence for God's gift present in other members. For its part, then, religious life does bear a heightened respon-sibility for the healthiness of the church--not in terms of mis-sionary activity, not in terms of educational or social services, not in terms of leadership, but primarily and expressly in terms of spirituality, a life of holiness. Although "I want to be holy" sounds too simple to explain the myriad forms of the religious follow-ing of Christ through the ages, it is the grounding of the response to the gospel imperative "go, sell, come, follow." Evangelical counsels can too quickly come to be defined by a threefold identity of poverty, chastity, and obedience. The monas-tic beginnings of religious life clearly indicate that the imitation of Christ by evangelical counsels is far broader and deeper. The Spirit continues to raise up religious groups marked by the total dedication of evangelical counsels. But such a consecration takes shape, as it did in the first monastic groups, through various expressions consonant with a specific gospel inspiration, but dif-ferent from the venerable though limited way of the three vows of medieval spirituality. Healthy holiness in our day may find the church recognizing many forms of religious life not by the three traditional vows, but still by ~h.e norm of evangelical counsels in imitation of Jesus. Religious life has often been described as a troublesome or meddlesome element in the church. Yes, the head or hand of the Body might wonder whether life would be easier without this member. But one cannot dictate the kind of gift one receives; one cannot control the Giver. If the holiness of God in Christ today seeks to shine thoughout the Body in ever new prismatic ways through the gift of women .and men religious, people should respond not by complaint, but by asking in gratitude for more of such a gift. For we as a church strive to be healthy by becoming ever more God's holy people. David L. Fleming SJ September-October 1994 645 TIMOTHY RADCLIFFE Inculturation living gospel values It is a great pleasure for me to have been here these last few days, listening to this debate on Inculturation in Religious Life and Formation. I want to share a few very si~nple reflections on the throne but with great hesitation, since I am becoming one of the least inculturated people I know. I move so rapidly from one country to another that I have to look out of the window when I get up to remember where I am: "There are coconut trees, and so it cannot be London." In fact when I was in Chicago, one person thought from my accent that I was Irish and another that I was Australian. Here one of my own broth-ers has the idea that I am American. I am starting to get worried! Secondly, I have no expertise in this area. At the General Chapter of Mexico we talked much about incul-turation and acculturation and deculturation and inter-culturation. At the end I swore to myself that I would never again say anything about such matters. But the first lesson I have learned as Master of the Order is that of obedience, and so here goes. The last time that I was in England I had lunch with an aunt, and she asked me what I thought of Hans Kfing. Timothy Radcliffe OP serves as Master General of the Order of Preachers. He delivered this address to the Second Joint Conference of Dominican major superiors and formators at Nagpur, India, on 21 October 1993. It was published in Dominican Ashram 12, no. 4 (December 1993): 149-159. Father Radcliffe may be addressed at Convento Santa Sabina; Piazza Pietro d'Illiria, Aventino; 00153 Rome, Italy. 646 Review for Religious So I started to explain what I thought were his strengths and weaknesses. After five minutes she stopped me and said: "My dear, all I want to know is this: Is he good or is he ba'd?" And let's face it, in most theological debate that is what people wish to know! And if my aunt were here today, I would say to her: Yes, incul-turation is a good thing. In fact, there can be no good theology which is not inculturated. One problem in the church is that peo-ple often think that whereas one might find inculturated theology in India or Africa, where they live, whether it is Rome or Munich, no such contextualization is necessary. But I would like to add three points: 1. The Gospel should both embrace and transform any cul-ture in which it is planted. 2. No culture is pure and static. Every culture is in a con-stant process of evolution, creating new meaning; other-wise it is dead. The Gospel should meet a culture where it is most creative and fresh, like a bee seeking out the nectar of the flower. 3. Inculturation is always painful, like any process of com-ing to birth. And we can only engage in it if we are pre-pared to experiment and sometimes fail. This requires great mutual trust. There are many other things that I would like to add, such as the need for prayer and for study if inculturation is to have depth, but those comments will have to wait for another time. The Gospel Both Embraces and Criticizes Any Culture It Encounters As Father Thomas Aykara CMI said, the fundamental event of inculturation is the Incarnation. God, the source of all, becomes a squealing, crying, Jewish baby who needed to have his nappies changed and who had to learn to walk and speak like any other child. Often people fear that inculturation might fragment the universal church and divide us from each other, and yet the one in whom we are united, the one who overthrows the boundaries of division, is this first-century Jewish man. You cannot get more inculturated than that. At the same time one must say that Jesus was one who threatened Jewish identity, who challenged the Law and who welcomed the Samaritan'. He was utterly Jewish, and yet he was perceived as a threat to Sep~mber-O~ober1994 647 Radcliffe ¯ Inculturation A culture is not only defined by whom it excludes, but by what it shuts out, by its perceptions of reality, its underlying philosophy. Jewish identity. And this must surely always be so in .every moment of incuituration. Every culture builds a home in which the Gospel may be welcomed. But every home excludes a stranger who must be welcomed and whose presence is perceived as threatening. Every culture has its Harijans [outcasts]. A culture is not only defined by whom it excludes, but by what it shuts out, by its perceptions of reality, its underlying phi-losophy. These too are challenged by the Gospel. We can see the same process at work when Christianity embraces the Roman world. We adopt the language of the Romans and speak Latin; we still build our church on the basis of their halls, even here at Nagpur; the priest wears a distant descendant of Roman clothes; we accepted much of the vision of Roman law. And yet Christianity reached out beyond the boundaries of the Empire to e~nbrace the stranger, for example, the Irish! The foreigner is made at home. Every culture is both wel-comed and transformed. The Spirit is dike yeast which transforms what it meets. In France grapes become wine; in England hops become the loveliest beer; in Scotland grain becomes whiskey; in Japan rice beco~nes saki. And this reflects that founding act of Christ who performed that utterly Jewish act of celebrating the Passover, the feast of the home, and yet used it to found a com-munity in which everyone had a place: the betrayer like Judas, the denier like Peter, and all the disciples who would run away and leave their savior alone. It is the home in which anyone can belong. During my travels around the Order this first year I have seen how in every continent, inculturation poses this same question: Who is the stranger whom we must welcome? In Africa, for exam-ple, where tribal identity is strong, and where the Order is per-ceived as a tribe, the challenge is to make at home the members of another tribe, to be a tribe beyond tribalism. I went to Rwanda which has been deeply divided by conflicts between two tribes. 648 Review for Religious Here our Vicariate of Rwanda and Burundi is a sign of the Gospel, for members of both tribes live together as brothers. This is an incarnation of the Gospel, in which our identity as human beings is prized, open, stretched and transformed. When I went to Zaire in February it was in a state of near civil war between tribal groups. You could see how the church was trying to enter the extraordinary richness of that culture and be truly Zairean. The liturgy was wonderfully African, alive and beautiful. But we also had to challenge the tribal identities and invite people to find themselves in Christ. In Guatemala, the strangers are perhaps above all the indige-nous people living in the mountains. Here we have a wonderful experiment of inculturation in which the Dominican sisters and the brothers are cooperating. At Coban in the mountains of Alta Vera Paz, the sisters are accepting many indigenous vocations and seeking to evolve a way of being a Dominican that respects their customs, their lovely songs, their ways of dressing and being human. The brethren have built a study center nearby, which is in contact with the brethren working in the indigenous villages, collecting information about their rituals and customs, so that we can find a way of evolving an indigenous way of being Dominican for both the men and the women. The stranger is made welcome. But what is the challenge that we must put to them? A priest who worked with the Masai in Kenya wished to have a truly inculturated Eucharist, and so he tried to make it as African as possible. When he turned up to preside he found that gath-ered around the table were only the men. The women were not to be seen. So he asked: "Where are the women?" And the men replied: "It is not our custom to eat with the women." Is that inculturation or a betrayal of the Gospel? No prizes for the cor-rect answer! In the discussion group in which I have participated at this conference we found similar questions posed in the context of Asia. On the one hand, we saw that there was' much to learn from the Indian understanding of the gztrlt, the master. We were reminded that becoming a master demanded real asceticism, real renunciation, a real poverty and simplicity of life. [I was not, I might say, taking all of this personally.] Do we, who are regarded as gurus, really make that deep apprenticeship of silence and asceti-cism? Do the religious of Hinduism and Buddhism put us to shame? VVhere might one find Dominic in India if he walked the Septe~ttber-O~ober 1994 649 Radcliffe * Inculturation roads today? Would we meet him walking the roads with a beg-ging bowl, like a Jain holy man? Does not this culture challenge us to rediscover our own ascetic and mendicant tradition? Yet at the same time we foun'd that we wished to challenge some aspects of the Asian understanding of the guru. We do not expect the dis-ciple to submit to the master in blind obedience. As the provin-cial of the Philippines said: "The master must teach the disciple to learn to learn, to learn creativity, originality. If he stands on the master's shoulders it is to see farther." I think that Western culture poses particular problems with regard to.inculturation. You do not find theologians demanding that we be inculturated and adopt the norms of our society; yet that is often what is happening. I think that this is partially because it has become not just one culture among the cultures of the world. Since the fall of communism, it has become the one global culture which threatens to suck in and absorb all others in its vast stomach. Western consumerist capitalism is the culture which simultaneously embraces nearly everyone and excludes the vast majority. It touches most of humanity and shuts it out from its promised land. It sells everyone a TV so that they may see par-adise and then forbids them to enter. For me a symbol of this was a visit to Soweto a couple of years ago. I wandered about this sad and exuberant place, this great township of some two million African people, which was not until recently even marked on South African maps. I came across a school and ambled in. The children ran to me shouting what I thought was some obscure African word, "ninja." It turned out to refer to some strange turtles that are the heroes of the then latest TV series in the United States. They had cups and T shirts and even shoes covered with pictures of these ninja turtles. These children were offered the culture of American TV and told they could never belong. I think also of the endless queues of people waiting in Moscow to buy a McDonald's hamburger, a week's wages for this "holy wafer" of Western culture. Do'we Dominicans wish to be radically inculturated into this culture? Will this add new riches to our religious life? This is a culture of wealth, not just of wealthy people but of the glory of money. Perhaps more radically than in any other society, the poor cannot properly belong, since they are by definition those who have failed. Their fate is invisibility. Of course, I do not for one moment deny the wonderful things that this culture has produced 650 Review for Religious and its real inventiveness, its tolerance for human difference, its love of human rights, and so on. But I would still suggest that we religious must resist inculturation here and be with those who do not belong. But do we? This is a question I put to the superiors of the Dominican Leadership Conference in the United States last week. Even the language we use suggests we are sucked into an alien view of the world. The Prior Provincial becomes part of "the Administration," a sort of chief executive; the brethren become personnel, and instead of a love of poverty we have end-less discussions of budgets. Maybe the vows of our religious life are in such radical contradiction with the values of the consumerist West that we can thrive as religious only if we opt out, become out-culturated! Chastity seems puerile, poverty absurd, and obe-dience infantile. I also think that it is interesting that this matter of poverty illustrates the ambiguity of the relationship of the Gospel and culture. In India there is precisely a religiou~ tradition which respects poverty and which invites us to embrace it; in the West there is a culture of wealth which we are invited to refuse. Inculturation is then both an embrace and a challenge. And it must be so for the identity to which we are called as Christians is beyond our naming. Who we are is a mystery hidden in God. For, as St. John says: "My children, we know that we are God's children now, but we do not know what we are to be. We know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him" (1 Jn 3:2). Inculturation and Creativity I was fascinated by the argument between professors Pawar and Mataji the first evening. As a good Dominican, I love an argu-ment. It was wonderful to hear someone challenge our assumption that inculturation was a good thing. We seemed to be faced with a dilemma: to inculturate and risk assimilation or to stick to our own traditions and culture and go on being foreigners. Do you do what the Buddhists do or follow the Roman rubrics? What a sticky spot to be in! It is my own view that this is a false dilemma, for it only faces us if we make the mistake of thinking of culture as something frozen, stuck, immobile, like a pure white ice cream in a cultural deep freeze. Here you have some set and eternal thing which is Indian culture, whose practices you either adopt or remain a foreigner. Septentber-October 1994 651 Radcliffe ¯ Inculturation Perhaps the magic of Indian culture for me is precisely its complexity and fluidity, forever old and new. This is symbolized by what I have heard from the window of my room. In the evening I heard the sound of the music of some Hindu festivals; maybe it was for the festival of the goddess. Mixed with the beat of the drums was the rhythm of one of those endless trains on that net-work of railway lines holding the subcontinent together. In the early hours I have heard another train, whose hooter strangely resonated with the early morning call to prayer of the mosque, perhaps played on a tape recorder. Every culture is alive in a con-stant state of transformation, of meeting other cultures and absorbing or rejecting them, of remembering old ways and invent-ing new ones. Any culture which is worthy of the name is complex and fertile. Think of Jewish culture. The whole history of that culture is one of interaction, of the absorption and rejection and transfor-mation of ideas from Egypt, Canaan, Babylon, Assyria, Persia, Greece, and Rome. There never was a pure Jewish culture which you could pop into the deep freeze, any more than there is a pure English or Indian or Japanese culture. If there were, they would be brain dead. They bubble away like Irish stews, constantly evolving. How does the incarnation, that epitome of inculturation, take place? It is through the most acutely creative moment of human life, in the conception of a child. God pitches his tent among us by meeting us in our most deeply creative moment. God becomes one of us at the moment that we make something new, present in the fertility of a woman. And it is always so in any true moment of inculturation, for a culture is most alive, most itself, where it is most creative, just as a tree is most alive at the tips of its branches. The challenge of inculturation is to be there, sharing in its inventiveness, sharing its exploration. The choice is not to adopt a given Buddhist or Hindu ceremony or carry on with a Roman one: "Do we say the rosary or sing a mantra?" We enter it as it makes things new, for then something may be born which is utterly Indian and utterly Christian. The most wonderful example of that was given to us in the Indian dance of the life of Jesus that we saw the other night. I think that this was more than a synthesis of the Indian and the Christian. It was mating which brought to birth a child which was completely of both its parents. What it meant to be Indian was extended and deepened in that dance, and what it meant to be 652 Review for Relig4ous Christian was expanded. Such moments make us more Catholic. When I saw those wonderful finger movements I understand what it might mean to celebrate that the "finger of God is upon us." Never have l seen the mystery of the resurrection so beautifully evoked. Afterwards I asked myself why. Why was I so touched? I think that it is because for us the resurrection is the resur-rection of the body, and so it is most radiantly evoked in the dance of the bodies, expressed in the stretching of our bodiliness. The dancers said that their dance is prayer. One might say that our bodiliness is made prayerful. V~rhat better way to evoke the Resurrection in which the Body of Christ is utterly transformed into per-fect praise? Let me give you another example. Everywhere I went in Central America earlier this year I was struck by the thriving popular culture. Our Dominican students wrote poems, painted, composed music. When I asked the pre-novices in E1 Salvador to tell me about their society, they spontaneously composed five little plays, including one about the visitation of a contemplative monastery of Dominican nuns by the Mother General, Mother Timotea. Here one could imagine an incultur-ation of the Gospel, because here there was the fertility of doing something new. The example 1 loved most was that of a Haitian cross, painted by a peasant in our parish in the central moun-tains. It made the cross into a via crucis, along which walked a peasant, walking the way that all Haitian peasants must go, a path of suffering. But at the center of this cross was a flowering palm tree; the dead wood bore fruit. And behind the hills one could see the glimmerings of a new dawn. Here was a symbol so old and so new, the glorious and beautiful cross, pointing one back to the flowering crosses of the Middle Ages and earlier, and yet so Think of Jewish culture. The whole history of that culture is one of interaction, of the absorption and rejection and transformation of ideas from Egypt, Canaan, Babylon, Assyria, Persia, Greece, and Rome. September-October 1994 653 Radcliffe ¯ In~dturation new and so of just-this-moment-and-culture. Yesterday we saw the flowering cross in the philosophy house of the Carmelites of Mary Immaculate. In theology one could think of Thomas Aquinas grasping and transforming Aristotle and giving us a the-ology which is utterly Aristotelian and utterly Christian. Surely it belongs to our Dominican way to love what is simul-taneously so traditional and so fresh, this beauty "so ancient and so new--the ever fertile tradition. As Matagi said, quoting a Chinese proverb: "Find your roots and then fly." The Enlightenment, because it rejected tradition, drove a wedge between our feet and our wings. So the challenge of inculturation is surely to be there where the action is, there where there is intellectual and artistic cre-ativity, so that we may make something which is both utterly our own and which belongs to the culture. In any culture we must seek out the thinkers, the artists, the explorers and sit at their feet so that they can help us to make something new. It does not even matter whether they are believers are not. And this involves courage and trust. We must let people exper-iment, try things out and sometimes fail. We have the liberty to make mistakes. ~re must not fear failure. One famous theologian, I forget whom, said that one cannot contribute a single theolog-ical insight unless you make a hundred mistakes. There can be no creativity if you are afraid to play a bit--homo h~dens, playful humanity. And you cfinnot play around if you are afraid of falling on your face. You cannot dance if you are always afraid of stand-ing on another's feet. An interesting question to ask is this: Do we dare to accept young men and women who might wish to venture a bit into the unknown? What do we look for in vocations? Do we wish them to be nice and safe, people who will not rock the boat? Do we dare accept the rather difficult ones, who will certainly be a prob-lem but who might, just might, be saints? It is good to imagine how we might have reacted if some of our great predecessors had applied to join our province. What would we have written about them after their novitiates. St. Thomas Aquinas: "Eats and thinks too much. ~Refuses to join in communal sport and play basket-ball." Jordan of Saxony: "Always writing to a Sister Diana; he will have problems with chastity." Catherine of Siena: "Too fond of the brethren and thinks she hears voices. Bad start." Fr~ Angelico: "We cannot afford the paint." Savonarola: "We cannot afford the 654 Review for Religious books; he keeps burning them." Las Casas: "He stirs things up too much." Martin de Porres: "His obsession with people at the door upsets community life. No sense of obedience and said that it was less important than charity. Troublemaker." And what would we have said of Dominic? Would we have let him in? Would we? You might think that we Dominicans who so care for the truth should above all fear error. On the contrary, it is because we believe that the Holy Spirit is poured upon the people of God that we can dare to risk getting it wrong, for the church will tell us when we do. History suggests that sometimes it may say that we are wrong when we are not. That is the pain of bringing about the new. The point is that we can play with confidence. I can play with ideas and search and experiment because it does not all depend upon me. It seems to me that the adventure of inculturation is inseparable from that strong sense of our wider belonging in the Order and the church. It is because we belong that we dare to be free. If we are neurotic about making mistakes, as religious often are, then it suggests we do not believe in Pentecost. Look at St. Peter, our rock. He hardly ever got it right, and the church did not collapse. The challenge of inculturation is surely to be there where the action is, there where there is intellectual and artistic creativity, so that we may make something which is both utterly our own and which belongs to the culture. Let Us Talk to One Another The sort of process that I am envisaging, of being creative and imaginative, of experiment and taking risks, will, of course, be painful and disturbing. It will create moments of conflict and uncertainty. One person's inculturation is another person's betrayal. Just think of sexual ethics. Do the official sexual ethics of the church represent a refusal to enter the modern world, as Septonber-October 1994 655 Radcliffe ¯ Inculturation most of my young friends seem to think, or a prophetic stance against a degradation of the body? Should we inculturate and have lots more sex and make many of the young feel more at home or be a counter-culture which might exclude the young for whom this is incomprehensible, but be a witness to the Gospel? Another example: when I was a Dominican student in Paris twenty years ago, the brave and prophetic thing to do seemed to be to give up the habit, live in an ordinary, fiat and get a job. Today it looks rather boringly conformist. Any experimentation, any creativity, will involve painful dis-agreements, dissension, mutual puzzlement. "This is not the Order I joined, some may say. And so it has always been, ever since the beginning, ever since Peter confronted Jesus when he began to walk on the way to Jerusalem; ever since Paul confronted Peter at Antioch for refusing to eat with the Gentiles. There is nothing new in such conflicts. ~,~hat matters is whether they are fertile, fruitful. Do they lead us to truth? I. believe that we should never embark on such a course of experimentation, of incultura-tion, if we do not dare to talk to one another. And do we, do we dare to talk and listen? One of things that has most struck me during this last year of wandering about the world is just how much our church is marked by silence. It is not the meditative rich silence that Matagi can teach us. It is not the silence of our contemplative nuns but the silence that comes of fear. I believe that what most afflicts us is a fear of debate. It is not that people do not make statements; there are statements about dissident theologians and statements by dis-sident theologians. The papers are full of denunciations and counter accusations, but this does not add up to much of a con-versation. Surely we should be among those who, as at a dreadful tea party, try to get the dialogue going! We are one of the largest and most diverse religious families in the church. Where else could one find such a diversity of peo-ple, brethren and sisters and nuns and laity, contemplatives and actives, academics and pastoral people, progressives and conser-vatives? If we cannot take the risk of talking, then who will? And yet sometimes at the heart even of our own communities, where three or four are gathered together in Dominic's name, there may be silence in the midst of them. As I endlessly repeat as I wander around the world: we do have a tradition of dialogue, of disputa-tion. And, as you can see in St. Thomas, this is not founded on 656 Review for Religious ham~nering your opponent into the ground, but arguing with hi~n so as to learn frmn him or her. Central to our tradition is the belief that you might argue with someone precisely because you dare to hope that he or she may teach you something. Who was that holy man who grabbed his opponent and said: "I will not let you go until you teach me something"? We should wrestle with the other as Jacob wrestled with the angel, so that we may demand a blessing. We must dare to raise the question of truth. It is our motto. In much of modern Western culture, this is a word which one may hardly breathe. To question the truth of another's utterance, is to put them into question, is to question their value, their right to be. If someone tells you that he/she is really a Martian who has come from outer space, then you must merely reply: "Honey, if you are comfortable with that idea, then it's fine by me." But we Dominicans ought to dare to raise the question of truth not because we know it all, but because we hope that together we may discover it, and so we respect the other enough to say some-times: "I believe you to be wrong." It is not worth saying to any-one: "I think that you are wrong," unless you believe that it matters what they think. It is too easy to say in ecumenical discussions that we all believe the same thing deep down. There would be no point in dialogue if it were so obviously true. The first stage of friendship is discovering how ~nuch you are alike. The second is daring to see how much you differ. The third may be the revelation that in the hidden heart of the unspeakable God, we are indeed one. And so, to conclude, I would suggest, indeed I would argue, that if inculturation is not just selecting items off some cultural supermarket shelf--"1 will have a Hindi bhaja,1, one item of Buddhist meditation and a Christian Eucharist, please"--if it is a thoroughly creative business, then it asks of us a twofold courage: the. courage to experiment, to play, to risk failure and mistakes. But there is also the equally deep courage of talking to one another, in the pursuit of truth that transcends us all. Do we dare? September-October 1994 657 J.J. MUELLER Second-Stage Inculturation: Six Principles of the American Mind Anew day has dawned in the understanding of the rela-tionship between the gospel message and culture. Vatican II officially used the word culture for the first time as a theolog-ical category in the process of evangelization.' Soon after the council, the word mculturation became widely accepted to describe bringing the gospel into a culture. Simply said, culture described the human fashioning, working, and making of an environment wherein and whereby people survived, lived, and developed val-ues and meaning in their lives. Languages, symbols, institutions, and rituals were integral components of every, culture. The church recognized that people could hear the Good News only in the light of their own cultural ambient. As a result, culture tended to be dealt with as the world out there, synonymous with an observable society, and could be examined empirically. This was the first stage of our thinking about inculturation. A new day has dawned and shines its light upon a second stage. Two features characterize this second stage. First, we are now moving from a world "out there" to a world "in here," that is, we understand culture to impact the nonobservable world where our thoughts, feelings, presuppositions, and assumptions about life take shape. Secondly, we are not talking about the gospel J.J. Mueller SJ, associate professor of theology, at Saint Louis University., is the author of Practical Discipleship: A United States Christology (Collegeville: The Liturgical Press, 1992). His address is Department of Theological Studies; Saint Louis University; 3634 Lindell Blvd; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. 658 Review for Religious coming to a pagan land, but about believers talking to believers across cultures. Regarding the world "in here," the first great missionary Paul expressed it well when he said that the gospel penetrates like "a two-edged sword that cuts between bone and marrow." ~re can add to Paul's words that the gospel cuts between our spirit and the culture through which we must express ourselves. Not only can no human being enter this world without simultaneously being born into a culture, but also the mind of every person can understand, judge, and decide only through a culture. The formative culture of the mind, then, is a domain where the gospel must enter. The new stage of inculturation is not talking about the gospel encoun-tering a non-Christian culture, but about Christian believers speaking to each other out of their respective cultures. One unasked-for consequence can be misunderstanding, with tension as its sign. Because we use the same words, communication is not necessarily clear, and different meanings are given and received. As an African proverb says, "We see with the same eyes but not with the same mind." While it is apparent that cultures differ, we seem to have operated as if minds were the same. They are not. The principles, assumptions, and expectations set up by the incul-turated mind differ from culture to culture, and it is here that the source of many tensions exist in theo Catholic church today. This article will present the culture of the mind I know best: the American mind. By using American I am referring to a person of the United States, knowing full well that it also refers to peo-ple of two continents. I am doing so simply because no other ade-quate adjective of United States people exists. Although the American mind is my example, I hope to make clear that the method used in this article is not limited to only one culture but is applicable to any other culture. The American mind, as with any mind, is principally formed by the society in which it lives. The word society is often used interchangeably with culture because a society is the largest and clearest designation of the common particularities that bind peo-ple together in a common identity. We do not say we are "Western" culture but "American" culture. Within the American culture exist dynamics of binding and formative influence. The principles of democracy as lived in the United States form the basic social culture of the American mind. This type of democracy is not identical to democracy anywhere else in the world, because September-October 1994 659 The word democracy has had a stormy ecclesial history due to differing contexts about what it means. it has a particular history and experience unlike any other. Nevertheless the principles that undergird this democracy are clear and found in the Constitution oft& United States and the first ten amendments to the constitution, the Bill of Rights. Six prin-ciples clearly operate in the American mind which, although not exhaustive, present adequately the tensions of intellectual incul-turation with which the American church is faced. I will present each one in turn by providing an explanation of what the prin-ciple means and then follow it by the events which have given rise to the spe-cific tensions within the American church, thereby forming a kind of profile of the American mind by the end of this study. Each of the six sections will proceed in two parts. The first part is an explana-tion of the principles, expectations, and assumptions that operate in the American mind. The second part begins with a ten-sion between the Catholic American mind and with decisions made by the Vatican. The tension with the Vatican mind is obvi-ously an important relationship to examine because it brings to the surface a series of misunderstandings that are deeper than a lack of knowledge, whose source lies at the cultural difference forming and filtering each mindset. It therefore focuses the dis-cussion so that people of other cultures can understand what is happening. In addition, the examples are international in char-acter and clearly represent cross-cultural exchanges that offer the clearest test cases for examining the workings of the American mind. The process, however, could be done also through exam-pies from other cultures, for example, American and Asian minds, or from dioceses and parishes located on East Coast and West Coast, or women and men's religious orders, in the case of an international group like Jesuits and how they actually interpret their religious life in different cultures. Most probably, the reader will see other applications. This article is not about championing American culture. That would be to impose one culture on another. My concern is much deeper, because if we are to find out how to be authentic and 660 Review for Religious responsible disciples of Jesus Christ we must come to grips with those unconscious yet dynamically present principles by which we filter all information, even religious. Therefore, in order to become more modest about our cultural limits--not to foist them upon others and to avoid any reverse American "cultural imperi-alism"-- we must shine the spotlight upon the culture of the American mind. Democracy The principle of democracy is central to the American mind and gathers the other principles together to make a distinctive unity. The American people express their principles of demo-cratic governance in the Constitution of the United States; today we are the longest-lasting and oldest democratic country still run by its original constitution. This longevity points to perduring cur-rents that are continually renewing themselves and that run deep in the American mentality. So too is it with Catholics, who came mostly as Europeans, thinking as Europeans; they gradually yielded this identity to a new American one. So goes the process of culture. The demo-cratic way of governance thereby became commonly accepted to the point of being taken for granted and, even more, growingly appreciated for its way of ordering the commonweal. As early as 1784, the first bishop of the United States, John Carroll, saw this process happening and made the prophetic statement that the religious revolution in America was "more extraordinary" than the political.2 Bishop Carroll argued with Rome for the indepen-dence of the fledgling church, but he was unsuccessful; the American church had only "mission" status under the Roman congregation Propaganda Fide until 1908. Democracy was not won or shaped easily in its two-hundred-year history. The cost was often war and bloodshed, with Catholics fighting and dying for democracy 'in every war. Mistakes were made, but Americans really do not disagree about the freedoms that democracy offers. Hence, the emotions of American people run deep on this subject. It is a form of governance and a princi-ple in which the Christian message can flourish. Tension: The word democracy has had a stormy ecclesial his-tory due to differing contexts about what it means. The main rea-son is that the European (and one must includ~ the Vatican) mind Septentber-October 1994 661 has interpreted democracy through the tragic and chaotic events surrounding the French Revolution, beginning in 1789 where the church suffered grievously; even the pope was imprisoned by Napoleon. The French Revolution became an example of the bankruptcy of the principles undergirding the "Modern World." In 1794 at the Synod of Pistoia Pius VI condemned this rage for "furious democracy" (Auctorem fidei). A century later, the Vatican warned against the so-called "Americanist heresy," again finding democracy an unacceptable way of operating. The twist this time was that the Vatican thought that democracy was inappropriate for ecclesial governance. The filter for the Vatican was again European democracy, especially as it was being proposed in France. It must be remembered that even such an extraordinary person as Pius IX, who dominated and determined the papacy in the 19th century, never left the papal states in his lifetime! In fact, the "Americanist heresy" was started in France, not in the United States, with the French mis-interpretation of Isaac Hecker. The bishops in America were con-fused by the 1899 papal letter Testem benevolentiae, and some objected that such a "description" did not find its place in the United States. Of far greater consequence, however, is the present turn to democracy by many countries in the world. The forms of democ-racy are not necessarily in the American vein, but are their own specialized types that belong to the same trunk of the tree. Nevertheless, the 19th-century lesson needs to be laid to rest. With the end ,of the Cold War, while a wave of "democracy" is going around the world, the Vatican continues to warn people in an antiquated way that "the church is not a democracy," a fre-quent but confusing ecclesial response given to Americans and others who raise concerns about undecided and open-ended issues, especially as they particularize themselves in each culture. This can hardly be called a "cultural imperialism" but a holding to Vatican II's clarion call to evangelize each culture. What, Americans ask, is the alternative procedure? A monarchical form of government, historically embedded in the European tradition? The question is not one of winners and losers, but one of where is God and the kingdom of God in all this. While Americans understand and even agree with the Vatican's underlying objection that religious truth is not up for a vote, nev-ertheless Americans are confused because many of the roles of 662 Review for Religious governance could be participatory. After all, is it not true that the Catholic Church has found fertile ground here, unlike anywhere else in the modern world, through the protection of democracy? "Why," the American asks, "would people want to keep and con-tinue with ways of governance that created problems like reli-gious wars, intolerance, and harsh judgments that lead to oppressing one religious group at the expense of another?" Americans founded a type of governance where these European traits were left behind. Something new and in contrast to Europe was established on these shores. Our experience of democracy raises serious questions that the uni-versal church has to address; it is not simply an American phenomenon nor an American triumphalism, but a search to value difference in what might be a non-Eurocentric model. The marvelous success story of the American church and its vitality, is related to democracy where rights, freedoms, and opportunities offer peo-ple the chance to participate in their own destiny as believers. Hence, fianericans have a graced expe-rience that says the principles of democracy are not antithetical to ecclesial governance. The outstanding German theologian Karl Rahner wrote years ago that, granted the church was not a democ-racy, nevertheless ecclesial decisions and ways of proceeding could be done democratically. It is a legitimate way of proceeding within the church. Most important for our consideration, one must remember that there is no other way for Americans to think than the way they have learned through their culture. What is the case in America is also the case elsewhere; a tension results when cul-turally foreign and intellectually alien forms of governance are imposed upon a people. The answer is complex and not one that I wish to address here, but it comes down to this: To remain truly Catholic is to be "universal" and thereby to grant to others the legitimate and welcomed influence of culture upon my/our faith. My point, however, is to examine the unexamined starting point Americans have a graced experience that says the principles of democracy are not antithetical to ecclesial governance. September-October 1994 663 of our mental culture: If the gospel is to be truly inculturated, the question of democracy as the beginning point of under-standing the gospel message must be taken on clearly and with respect. 664 Due Process If everyone is to be treated as an equal who has rights before law and society, then Americans expect that the manner of pro-ceeding is honest and fair to all concerned. This means attention must be given to the various forms of due process. The Asnerican Revolution of 1776 was ignited because of British abuse of power which taxed the colonists without representation. In response to a painful lesson learned from. being oppressed, the U.S. Constitution included principles in determined opposition to any authoritarian and totalitarian governance and in so doing accepted the principle of due process. Hence fairness for everyone was guaranteed by law, including the right to be presumed innocent until proved guilty, to be tried by a' jury of one's peers, to know one's accuser, and to be represented by counsel in a court of law. Above all, fairness included the right to information, freedom of speech, and the power both to elect judicious officials who would uphold these rights and to remove any official who violated them. Whether a president or a pauper, every citizen is equal before the law. These protections are human acts of a culture that seeks to guarantee as far as possible that truth prevails. Above all, it is fair to everyone, and no one can claim a hidden truth or secret agenda of a special process. Because the process is common and follows the same rules, the innocent and powerless are protected while the powerful and privileged are not allowed unfair advantage or tyran-nical sway over citizens. Tension: Because Americans operated on the non-European principle that peopl~ are innocent until proved guilty, Americans regard ecclesiastical censuring as a serious judgment that requires due process to be observed. If due process is violated, then the act is considered authoritarian in the most arbitrary sense of the word. Americans recognize that people of goodwill have differences of judgment and actions, but, if the truth will prevail, every person has the right to explain and defend his or her actions. All per-sons deserve this basic dignity, and so does the community from Reviezv for Religion,s which they spring. It is too easy to bash Banerica for individual-ism and not see the heroic, countercultural struggle of kanerican Catholics to form communities. And certainly, when it comes to something as important as faith, Americans assume that any eccle-siastical censure would be at least as respectful of persons as their culture is. Americans, painfully and confusedly, have found decisions from Rome violating due process. A few examples that have angered Americans are these: the censuring of Archbishop Hunthausen of Seattle; the silencing of creation-centered the-ologian Matthew Fox; the removal of Charles Curran from his teaching position even though the allegations date over a twenty-five year period (the formal investigation began in July 1979) and he had not taught in the area of sexual ethics for fifteen years; and the requiring of a "mandate" for teachers of theology, which puts the entire Catholic university in jeopardy. (Ironically an act the enemies of Catholicism could not do for over two centuries might become a reality through the imposition of European Vatican principles on the American context.) In these cases, accusers remained anonymous, secret letter campaigns to the Vatican held disproportional power, actions and judgments fol-lowed in secret, and unilateral silencing for a year was imposed on theologians as a test and act of obedience; and quite beyond the demands of faith an additional test of loyalty such as an oath was required of theologians as if the sacrament of baptism were not enough for faith. An~ericans find such actions heavy-handed, clash-ing with the deepest rights to which peoples are entitled. "Fairness" is multifaceted and certainly indicative of the gospel message. American Catholics feel their own integrity is violated when a basic human right and clearly a gospel requirement, a spiritual and human boundary deep in the inculturated psyche, has been disregarded. Certainly a gospel-oriented church is not looking to squelch such rights, yet the outrage is there. Attention to the culture of the mind is the place where any movement for-ward can be made. In front of the American public and on front pages of news-papers, the church unfortunately seems to be cast in a role where it is more guilty of human-rights abuses than secular society. American Catholics feel compromised in their witness to the gospel because of such action. My purpose is not to put blame anywhere or defend one side or the other but to point out the September-October 1994 665 tension and the culture of the mind that has to be dealt with if we are to enter into a deeper encounter with Christ. A new dawn requires the examination of how the gospel is received, judged, and preached in a culture. Equal Rights ~qlile everyone is not created equal in talents and opportu-nity., everyone shares in equality, of personal rights before the law. For example, that people are born into a social class (lower, mid-dle, upper class) should neither reward nor condemn them. Persons can seek their own pursuits of life, liberty, and happi-ness. As a result, Americans ensure opportunities such as manda-tory education to level the mountain of privilege and fill in the pit of poverty, to create a playing field of possibility based on merit. Hence, openness to the future, new possibilities, and change are characteristically strong Mnerican attributes. American children are raised with encouraging dreams such as "X~rork hard and you will be a success; . Make something of yourself; . Be all that you can be;" "You too can grow up to be president of the United States." Still, we are not naive about these dreams. We have learned that within our country upward possibilities have down-side problems, even unsurmountable for some, and that in our foreign policies we have failed to grasp the different cultural struc-tures of meanings and values. The principle, nevertheless, remains that people are equal and that the future can be shaped by our human decisions. The question remains: Who will decide? Aanericans do not want it done by the tyrannical few. Americans have faithfully championed this position and insisted on it for two centuries. American Catholics helped shape this ideal. A long-standing and troubling conflict about equality has been the gender issue. I do not think it is possible to understand the gender issue in the United States without understanding some-thing of the racial issues which are part of the same cloth. With respect to the race issue, the bloody and soul-searing Civil War (1861-1865) resolved the legal question of slavery in favor of emancipation. The painful legal struggles afterward led the Supreme Court in 1896 to the divisive "separate but equal" clause that allowed over a half century of civil racism. It was finally reversed by the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s led by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Americans "know this history and are being 666 Review for Religious increasingly sensitized to the racism at work deep in the fabric of society. The gender issue has become a connected issue where the lack of equality has been a reality that cannot be ignored. The equality of women is a world revolution that, in America, predates the founding of the United States. In the 17th century, New England's Anne Hutchinson explained religious experience through a woman's experience and was forced to flee. Two cen-turies of women's advocacy has culminated in recognition of women's equal rights. Today, equal-rights legislation dominates business, education, government, and every facet of personal rela-tionships, including new laws against sexual harassment in the workplace. Notwithstanding the many personal sexual prefer-ences that the law must deal with, the legal principle in the gen-der issue is clear: Gender is not to be a barrier in freedoms and the opportunities to exercise one's talents. Now even little girls can be all that they can be and dream of becoming president. Tension: In the search for basic equality, Americans find priv-ilege based on race or gender an inequitable, unjust principle upon which to make distinctions. Catholic life, unfortunately, not only reflected but supporte'd many of these unjust positions. The list includes the discouragement of indigenous vocations to priest-hood and religious life, and "separate but equal" racial policies where congregations were racially segregated, even by pews. These historical realities are not just a bligh't on the history of the American mentality; they make us more sensitive to our sin-ful past. The feminist movement is another case in point. Why women could not be altar servers, and crossbearers, have their fe(t washed at Holy Thursday liturgy, preach, or enter into ordained min-istries of diaconate and priesthood, bishop or pope, simply because of their gender, is not clear to Americans who want to under-stand. American Catholics, while perhaps agreeing with the con-clusion, find arguments based on gender not only unconvincing but sexist, and not gospel. This point of tension is awkward and difficult for everyone, as we all know. For the American mind, it is not, therefore, a way of proceeding to declare topics' on women "nondiscussable." Truth demands, Americans think, that such top-ics should be discussable to proceed forward and arrive at an understanding of the truth. Equality implies that women's expe-rience, like racial experience, be listened to as they encounter the living, loving God, even if it is awkward and uncomfortable for Septentber-October 1994 667 women or men. Otherwise, Americans cannot help but see the ecclesial policies as acts of unilateral power and authority, to con-trol others, not principles of service and truth to free people to encounter the risen Lord. In the church we cannot trivialize the difficulties of equal rights, whether racial or gender, or unas-sumingly accept any solution where there are racial or gender winners and losers. Then everyone loses and the gospel is lost. We have to find another way out while holding on to equality of the rights of believers in the community of believers. The Right to Choose Americans value the right to choose as an important exercise of their maturity and responsibility. The right of self-determina-tion is not necessarily individualistic or selfish; one can commit one's self to community, the common good, relationships, and religion. It even respects the right to .make decisions and be wrong. The first experience of American Catholics was their choice of religion. Catholics fought for their right to belong to their religion, form organizations, and associate with whomever . they wished. The right to choose is a most powerful belief in the goodness and willingness of a citizen to contribute to the common good. Tension: Here is one of the truly difficult tensions for con-temporary American Catholics. Take the example of birth con-trol. On the one hand, the Vatican that told people that they were spiritually mature enough to form and follow their consciences has, on the other hand, seemingly reversed itself by telling peo-ple what their conclusion and decision should be. I am not speak-ing about the arguments about birth control, or making any judgment about it; my aim is to shed light on why there is a ten-sion for Americans. People cannot be given the right to choose and then told they have no right to choose. Their reaction, pre-dictably, is confusion over the double messages being given. Americans are no strangers to disagreement, but they expect open discussion of the problems and the marshaling of all the data (his-torical, anthropological, theological, and so forth). When differ-ent choices are possible, people have the freedom to make them to the best of thei.r consciences. One other example which is not in the ethical sphere is the selection of bishops for dioceses and priests for parishes. Without 668 Review for Religious local participation by the people, the choices often seem capri-cious, whimsical, punitive, or mysteriously rewarding. Giving rea-sons for the selection, even asking for consultation in the process where it concerns a parish or diocese, seems proper. If people are not consulted in their own affairs, then their conclusion is that someone has something to hide or that such decisions are simply autocratic and arbitrary, something to be disregarded as irrelevant because the decisions speak for only few decision makers. This is not a request for democracy, say American Catholics. If, as the Catholic Church teaches, the Holy Spirit resides in all believers, then why act as if it belonged only to a few? The challenge is how to give voice to people open to the Holy Spirit. Americans desire to con-tribute their.understanding of the Spirit to the entire church and to listen to other cultures' under-standing and contribution. At the same time Americans recognize legitimate authority in the pope and bishops to make decisions with necessary knowledge and perspec-tive. It would seem some cooperation of the two ways of pro-ceeding might be a way to go forward with mutual dignity and trust. It would be, moreover, a beacon of trustworthy light to our dialogue with other' Christian and non-Christian ecumenical groups. In the church we cannot trivialize the difficulties of equal rights, whether racial or gender, or unassumingly accept any solution where there are racial or gender winners and losers. Voluntary Participation Americans reject forced participation and prefer the freedom to participate in the types and varieties of work that they choose. Voluntary participation by i;avitation has always been part of the American Catholic church and is one of its most distinctive but unheralded trademarks. In his first pastoral letter (1792) Bishop John Carroll wrote that voluntary support had to be asked of the faithful because there was no tradition of civil support, an unusual Sept~nber-Octobcr 1994 669 circumstance but a reality continuing to this day. The reasons for a voluntary church are easy to understand. Nations like France, Spain, and Portugal were responsible for the support and evan-gelization of their new mission territories. Rome had little say, and policies were actually up to the nations to enforce. The result was financial support that made evangelization dependent upon the secular nations. No such relation ~xisted in the "Protestant" colonies in America controlled by the Church of England. The Catholic church was not allowed to operate openly, and people had to take oaths to uphold the monarch as the sovereign head of the church. It was an easy way to keep pesty Catholics out of the colonies, especially "papist" priests. As a result, finances were held in the name of lay people who paid for the support of both the church and clergy. This situation, incidentally, spawned the first great crisis in the American church, the problem of lay trusteeism where laity held the property and appointed pastors. The bishops broke this system in the 1830s, and the trend to centralized power in the episcopacy began) The virtue ofvoluntarism, nevertheless, gave rise to unparalleled accomplishments with hospitals, orphanages, soup kitchens, educational institutions, and charitable organiza-tions of every kind. Most often, religious orders provided the people to start and maintain these institutions. Initially most of these religious came from Europe, with American-born religious gradually taking their place. This story is one of the greatest con-tributions to American Catholicism. Tension: American Catholics know from their cultural condi-tioning that money is power, given in support of those appeals, needs, and cases that one deems desirable. Americans feel, how-ever, that the church operates with a double standard, namely that it is only too ready to accept their money but not their expe-rience. A growing tension occurs, then, if people feel their finan-cial support is either mismanaged or used against them. For example, the recent international financial scandals Of the Vatican by Bishop Marcinkus hit Americans doubly hard. First, Americans saw that this trusted Vatican official seemed to use church money more like a Wall Street broker than a churchman. How could this be allowed? Some call the lure of holding the purse strings the curse of the "Judas touch." Secondly, Mnericans were out.raged ¯ that it was an American bishop who was in charge. Whereas Americans have trusted the papacy, bishops, and pastors with the 670 Review for Religious disposal of money, such scandals only reinforce the idea that the clergy, as financial overseers, are naive, even irresponsible, about money. Unfortunately, too many examples abound to support their judgment. Because Americans consider their voluntary finan-cial support as an important act that demands fiscal responsibil-ity, they demand fiscal expertise, management, disclosure, accountability, and even consultation about its use. That means sharing power. Is the Vatican ready to do this with the laity? How are we to configure such cooperation? At the same time, if Americans feel the money is used against them, then they will refuse to give. For example, women have a seldom-mentioned illustrious and even heroic history of voluntary generosity in this country. If women feel sexist policies against them, they will likely refuse to give not only their time but also their money to support such a situation. Americans, unlike a state that supports a church, give voluntarily and expect to be treated with respect in every phase of their lives, not just in the financial area. If there is only a financial regard, as many American lay people in the parish have concluded, then Americans bristle because it is only their money that church governance wants. To an American this message would be one of utter disrespect and manipulation, totally against the gospel, whose message the peo-ple asking for money are supposed to be upholding. Thus, in the voluntary American system, the littlest person giving and not the bulging pocketbook has to be respected. If the dignity of the vol-untary gift and the person giving are to be upheld across cultures, then the two cultures of the mind, kanerican and Vatican, need to address the implications and meanings involved from both sides. Tolerance and Plurality United States Americans live in a pluralistic culture that accepts the principle of tolerance, not as an end in itself but as a precondition for moving forward and presenting the truth. Catholics of Maryland and New York were instrumental in shap-ing the original type of toleration that was later adopted in the U.S. Constitution. It meant a separation of church and state, but it accentuated the belief that people could converse with one another and at the same time live their lives according to their own beliefs without fear. This principle of toleration, while born and bred in/Mnerica, achieved universal church recognition only September-October 1994 671 after one hundred years of continual restatement, when it was finally accepted in the Vatican II document "Declaration on Religious Liberty." But even here John Courtney Murray, the architect of the document, cautioned believers that the document applied to people outside the church, not inside it (emphasis mine). This article argues for the beginnings of the discussion inside the church, especially from the view of the particular American cul-ture from which this society works. This principle of toleration recognizes that there is a cultural diversity within th~ United States which still remains the most ambitious experiment in diversity by any nation in the world. If it works, itis because the principle of toleration and the gover-nance by democracy has allowed it to work. Tension: Americans know that, despite the best of intentions, relationships fall apart. The question is whether to look back-wards to the past and try to assign blame, or to look to the future in building the kingdom for the future. The factors are compli-cated and complex, and judgments that punish people for trying to find solutions are not acceptable. For people trying their best, tolerance of their decisions before God may be the most Christian response possible. Americans clearly want lifelong commitments, not shallow, expedient ones; but if they do not work out, then people are encouraged to pick up the pieces and do their best. Roman canon law, which is certainly not kanerican law, holds to principles of the unbreakable relationship in marriage and priest-hood. This is good and one side of the human hope. But rela-tionships change and do not always last forever. In annulment cases many Americans find it a violation of their integrity to have to adnfit that a first marriage did not exist. It did exist and they did their best; it did not work, despite their desires that it would be forever. People can live in the past or the present. Americans fol-low Christ by picking up our lives and by trying to be the best lov-ing people we can be, now and in the future. Too often many Americans decide not even to go through an annulment pro-ceeding; others simply stop practicing because they feel judged and condemned in trying to uphold Catholic principles, kanericans ask the question: Could there not be other ways of dealing with these good ends from both sides? With regard to priesthood, a priest who asks to be laicized and who has faithfially served the people of God for twenty-five years must admit that he really did not have a vocation. For many 672 Review for Religious priests who have left, even to sign such a statement is at the cost of personal integrity. It is not true that they did not have a voca-tion to serve as a priest those many years. IA~hen married men become deacons, they do not renounce their married vocation. Cannot, Americans say, vocations be not eternal but changeable calls from God to be and go in other directions? If not, where would Abraham be? Francis of Assisi? Ignatius of Loyola? Mother Teresa? In a related issue of confusion, Americans ask why mar-ried Anglican priests who are trained and lived years in another tradition can become married Roman Catholic priests, while faith-ful Roman Catholic priests who live and love the Catholic tradi-tion want to marry but cannot? Is it necessary because of law to pursue and establish blame such that one person is a "winner" at the expense of another as a "loser"? Americans recognize that vocations can be forever, and people desire this; but life and rela-tionships change. When they do, the conflict for the Vatican becomes maintaining a principle of life commitment, while the conflict for Americans is to recognize change that they might not understand and yet not judge but encourage the person to find God in these changed circumstances. When faithful people's integrity is violated, there might be other ways to understand and deal with these issues. To understand where God is may require learning the culture of the mind. Conclusion These six principles are not meant to exhaust the profile of the American mind. They are, however, six principles that operate within the culture and are formative in how Americans think, live the gospel message, and act in the public domain. A new day has dawned as the second stage of inculturation is taking shape. It is a stage that focuses upon the inner world of culture which forms and filters our understanding. There is no other way for Americans to live. To be in a culture is to be fundamentally influ-enced by it, and Americans are trying to be faithful to the total demands of the gospel message. The way people think, therefore, is not the end point but a starting point. It is only by examining our mental culture that we can truly understand the gospel mes-sage and neither impose one culture upon another nor assume that we are all the same. We will be able to hear the voice of Jesus calling in its many inculturated expressions. Septonber-October 1994 673 Mueller . Se~ Nevertheless, tensions will continue. In this second stage of inculturation, two areas of concern will figure prominently, and I will use the American mind as the example. First, American cul-ture has an identity separate from Europe, just as other coun-tries, even with democracies, differ from America. Thus principles, assumptions, and presuppositions are bound to be different. If this is the case with cultures united in the larger Western main-stream, then how much more challenging will it be for cultures in Africa, India, Asia, and China? Secondly, and this follows from the 'first, the church may find itself in a double bind: The Vatican governs by one set of principles and the culture by another; this often results in strong tension or even opposition. The one goal for everyone is to be the best disciple that one can be. The church is now in a second stage of inculturation, begun at Vatican II, where it must listen to the Holy Spirit through inculturated believers and find ways to bring forth God's work in new cultural wineskins. While we do not have a crystal ball to see into the future, we do see that the future depends upon a cross-cultural contribution that respects the differences in the culturally conditioned mind. We must struggle to be sure that, in Africa, India, ~s'ia, Europe, and America, though we do not look the same exteriorly or express ourselves in identical terms interiorly, we share the same discipleship in the Holy Spirit. In order to find this necessary unity of the church, then, we must make the turn to the interior culture: the inculturated mind. Notes ~ Certainly, it raises questions about the inculturation going on within the Vatican mind. See the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (Gaudium et spes), The Documents of Vatican H, ed. Walter Abbott SJ (New York: America Press, 1966), chapter 2, paragraphs 53- 62, pp. 259-270. 2 James Hennesey SJ, ~'Catholicism in an American Environment: The Early Years," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 664. 3 James Hennesey SJ, "American Catholics (New York: Oxford University Press, 1981), pp. 93-100. 674. Review for Religious J. PETER SARTAIN The Challenge of Priestly Leadership I went through the seminary when it was not yet con-sidered necessary to teach administration and manage-ment skills to future priests. It was not that such skills were considered unimportant, for in fact some of the sem-inary faculty were excellent mentors in administration. There was simply no formal course in the administrative aspects of priestly ministry; I suppose it was assumed that we would eventually learn what we needed to know by observation and imitation--perhaps by osmosis! Even now, while I am a strong proponent of formal training in administrative skills for seminarians, I do not expect that such training will completely prepare them for the task; facility in management will come only with experience in managing. Moreover, I have come to realize that the fun-damental issue to be addressed in seminary formation is not administration or management, but leadership. When I was first assigned to a primarily administrative position some years ago, I was often frightened and bewil-dered with certain sensitive tasks. I am diplomatic by nature, but that was not enough. In a directed retreat one year I sensed God calling me to develop my own style of leadership, one that was both consistent with my person-ality and integral to my priestly vocation. The retreat experience confirmed my belief that there should be some-thing unique about the way a priest goes about being a leader. J. Peter Sartain is pastor of Saint Louis parish in Memphis and serves as vicar general of the diocese. His address is Saint Louis Church; 203 S. V~rhite Station Road; Memphis, Tennessee 38117. leadership and authority September-October 1994 675 Sartain ¯ The Challenge of Priestly Leadership During the years I ministered primarily in administrative positions I was often asked, "Do you think you will ever get back into pastoral work?" This article is a reflection on the ministry of leadership entrusted to priests, since their leadership role is at the heart of their call to holiness. Excellent resources are available to improve administrative skills--just treatment of church employees, man-agement principles, techniques for conflict resolution, and the like. I know the value and importance of such resources, and I assume that insofar as a priest is called to administrative leader-ship he will make proper use of them. Some insights into priestly leadership I have gained through the years have challenged me to grow in holiness. I will add a few practical exhortations gleaned from experience. Seminarians would benefit best-from the study of parish administration were it considered in the broader context of leader-ship. Whatever the particular ministry a priest is called to exer-cise, he is a leader. At times his leadership will occur in a parish setting, with its concomitant administrative responsibilities; at other times he might be appointed to a primarily administrative position. No matter what the job, the priest's leadership should always be rooted in prayer and sacramental ministry, especially the Eucharist. The question always struck me as misguided. Perhaps the questioner intended to ask, "Do you think you will ever get back into parish work?" But even then the unspoken implication was that only parish work is truly "pastoral" or, more fundamentally, "priestly." As pastor I have discovered a clear continuity with my years as a church administrator; there are not two priesthoods, two leaderships, but one. First I am a priest. I am a man called to accept the grace of holiness, to pray and preach and celebrate the sacraments with devotion and a clean heart. I am also called to be a manager of people and departments, a strategic planner, a creator of budgetsi' and a convener of meetings. This type of work has provided a 676 Review for Religious unique setting for nay growth as a priest, my ongoing conversion of life, and my love for the vocation I have accepted. That is not to downplay the tedium and frustration that are part of every vocation; but I see clearly that the task before me each day is to approach my work with a priestly heart. Although I will make frequent mention of challenges and problems, I do not wish to give the impression that they are the constant lot of the church leader. Most colleagues work as part of a team, striving to put their faith into practice. Most are sup-portive, enthusiastic, and competent. At the same time, problem areas exist, and they bear the potential of trying the morale of the priest whose responsibility it is to address them. Challenges to the Aspiring Leader Church leadership today presents a number of unique chal-lenges, one of which is the rampant confusion between power/ authority and leadership. Christian leadership is not defined in terms of power, yet many people view it only that way. The con-fusion is most evident in some discussions about the nature of ordained ministry, but it is also present in the daily business of the church. I was caught off guard when a brother priest once asked me, "Do you realize how much power you have?" He was refer-ring to the decisions placed in my hands. What caught my atten-tion was not his suggestion that what I did affected other people's lives, but his implication that perhaps I had not yet come to that realization myself. Insofar as what I do affects the lives of oth-ers, one could say that I have "power"; in that case I pray it is the power of wisdom, prudence, and compassion. If I have "authority," I hope it is like the authority of Jesus, in whom there was no contradiction betw.een word and deed. I am profoundly aware that what I do affects peoples' lives; as a consequence I must rely first and foremost on the grace of God to guide ~ne in exercising the church leadership with which he has invested me. It is more difficult to exercise genuine leadership than to wield power; but it is, liberating for the priest to realize that the grace of ordination involves the promise of God's continued guidance. Thus the priest will not lead unless he prays, unless he is steeped in the Word of God, unless he is one with the Eucharistic Christ, unless he is striving for ongoing conversion of life. He will not lead until his heart is centered on serving God's people in the September-October 1994 677 Sartain ¯ The Challenge of Priestly Leadership person of Christ. The priest does not lead by giving directions, by pointing this way or that; he can point only in the direction he himself is going. He leads by following Christ, and he follows Christ by leading God's people. Priestly ministry is often defined in terms of "function" (what do you do all day?); the priest then becomes the coordinator of other functions in the church, analogous to the conductor of an orchestra. Such an analogy is flawed from the outset, for the priest is someone grounded interiorly, finding his vocation and his peace not in power or in function, but in a Person, the Lord Jesus, in whose priesthood he has been invited to share. In an egalitarian society which highly values equality, some people become suspicious of peers who accept positions of lead-ership. They are assumed to have sold out to power and status and to have forgotten the daily lot of the common person. Several years ago I scheduled a luncheon meeting with a psychologist who had been working with one of our priests; as Vicar for Clergy it is my responsibility to act as liaison with the bishop in such cases. Although we had spoken by telephone several times, the psychologist and I had not met until the luncheon. Toward the end of our time together he told me that he had "checked me out" with some Catholic friends. They reported that I was friendly and caring, a nice guy; several added that for that very reason they were puzzled about why I had my job! I was amused both by his need to check me out and by the comments he received. I learned once again that some people simply do not expect "nice guys" to be in positions of authority, even in the church. Moreover, some are hesitant to accept church leadership posi-tions or to support leaders precisely because of misconceptions about authority figures. My own hesitation early in the priest-hood continues to remind me that as a priest I am to be a com-passionate, just, and humble leader. At times, others will conveniently appeal to our authority in search of the legitimation of a decision they have made. When coworkers lack confidence in their own leadership or authority, they appeal to mine. When they are uncomfortable accepting responsibility for a decision, they will add, "and Fr. Sartain agrees with it." Such posturing once annoyed me; now it reminds me that when I delegate a decision I promise to claim it as my own. Most challenging are the controversies that permeate the atmosphere for many who choose to minister in the church: the- 678 Rbview for Religious ological conflict, feelings of oppression, disenchantment, burnout, and anger. The causes of these sore spots are legion, and those who would reduce them to a single cause miss the mark in under-standing human nature. It is a dangerous temptation to believe that they exist only in the church; they are present in every orga-nization and workplace. They are particularly challenging when pow-erfully present but unspoken or unconscious. Unconscious anger is frequently directed toward the nearest leader, identified as the "authority figure." The leader must learn to deal with both the angry person and the issue at hand. The person demands more energy than the issue, and the temp-tation to frustratedly dismiss both person and issue is great. It is eas-ier to deal with someone who is angry with me, rather than with someone who is just "angry." Once when I made a decision unpopular with a religious sister, she subse-quently felt the need to arrange a meeting to tell me she was angry, "but not with you--with the church." The truth was that she was indeed angry with me, but her anger had its roots in dealings with other priests and prior situ-ations unrelated to me; nonetheless it affected our working rela-tionship. I had to be aware of that fact, whether or not she was. Am I prepared to deal with the unresolved anger that seems to grip many in the church, today? Am I willing to accept the fact that the anger will often be directed toward me as an ordained minister of the church? Will I make the effort to address issues even when the attendant anger is unreflective and misdirected? In a five-part work entitled On Consideration, a major portion of which is devoted to advice on sound administration, St. Bernard of Clairvaux writes to Pope Eugene III, a fellow monk who had been elected pope. At one point, while referring to the type of circumstances I have ou.tlined, he writes, "it is not the face of the scorpion that you should fear, he stings with his tail!" (On Consideration, 4.4.9.). The priest does not lead by giving directions, by pointing this way or that; he can point only in the direction he himself is going. Septentber-October 1994 679 Sartain ¯ The Challenge of Priestly Leadership The church leader must make fair decisions based on facts. However, our sensitivity to people makes us keenly aware that the network of staff members has its own version of whatever issue is currently on the table. They may be influenced by the behind-the-scenes subterfuge of colleagues, including fellow priests or religious. Because of the nature of the discussion we may not be free to offer a public rebuttal. When we discover such duplicity, will we let anger sour our disposition and provoke us to biased decisions? Will we be able to face the possibility that oth-ers have made judgments about us and our motivations? Will we begin to pin labels on certain segments of'the church? Will we ask to be removed prematurely from a job simply because it is not worth today's hassle? Will we lead? A final word about today's pervasive anger. As a healthy step toward growth many people have trained in techniques for assertiveness. That can be a good thing. However, :all too many settle for being assertive; rather than entering forthright conver-sation and working toward resolution of a conflict, they merely assert themselves, leaving in their wake the debris of their hostility. Unless assertiveness is marked by openness, desire for reconcili-ation and a willingness to forgive, it is just another way of push-ing people around. We are called to go beyond assertiveness to achieve understanding and forgiveness. When. I uncover assertive-ness within myself, I must pose this question: do I consciously or unconsciously abuse or manipulate people? The era of political correctness has witnessed the creation of a unique body of church jargon; it appears in mission statements, correspondence, minutes of meetings, and hallway conversation. There is nothing bad about that in itself; every profession devel, ops its own jargon. I find, however, that some church profes-sionals use "correct" words they do not fully understand. Collaboration and justice stand out in particular. Nothing is more healthful, respectful of persons, and theo-logically valid than striving for collaboration. It builds morale, insures ownership of a common mission, and promotes vitality in the. church. The gifts of the Spirit are for the common good, and the Spirit intends that we work together. However, there are kinds and times of confidential decision making which require a unilateral decision on the part of the leader or leadership group. Even in a system characterized as collaborative in usual circum-stances, some decisions must be made by leaders alone. In the 680 Review for Religious face of allegations of "lack of collaboration," the leader must nonetheless continue to lead. That a certain decision was of neces-sity made behind closed doors does not indicate that it was not made for the common good. Another popular charge is injustice. True injustice in church settings is deplorable, and leaders have a responsibility, to act justly. In the best of circumstances the exercise of justice is a formidable task. However, I have often heard the word unjust applied to sit-uations when it would have been more honest for the protester to have said, "I didn't agree with so-and-so's decision." The priest leader will recognize that at times he cannot win; sometimes the leader stands alone. He must have the resolute-ness not to rescind a good decision when faced with charges of lack of collaboration, poor communication, bad judgment, and stubbornness. He must also have the humility to be flexible when he realizes he has made a mistake. The Challenge to Generosity To be a leader in the church today is a daunting challenge, due in part to the characterizations I have listed above. Each dio-cese, parish, institution, or school is stamped with its own per-sonality and its own distinctive staff and clientele. It is an exciting time to be a leader in the church, with singular opportunities for growth in holiness. I begin this section with a series of questions every seminarian and priest could pose to himself. 1. Will I kiss the altar every day? Each day every priest bows to the altar at which he is to offer Mass, as an act of reverence for Christ, who is symbolized by the altar. The altar is a sacred symbol, whetheroit be made of stone or wood, or whether it stands in a magnificent cathedral or on a bloody battlefield. Its sacred meaning is so powerful that none of us should ever pass an altar without bowing to Christ present there. But the priest also kisses the altar. This is a very public gesture, made in the presence of those gathered for the Eucharist; it is at the same time an intensely private gesture, an act of affection, an act of submission, an act of love and trust. Even more to the point, the priest's kiss of the altar is an act of identification. He is pro-claiming to Christ, to himself, and to those assembled that it is Christ the Priest who makes him who he is. He kisses the altar which symbolizes the Lord himself, the sacrifice of Calvary, and September-October 1994 681 Sartain ¯ The Challenge of Priestly Leadership the table of the Last Supper. Everything he does flows from the altar and back to it. The kiss symbolizes his daily embrace of the sacrifice of Christ as his way of life, for on the day of his ordina-tion he was totally and irrevocably joined in character to Christ. Some days it is quite easy to kiss the altar. At his first Mass, the new priest knows the sheer joy of experiencing the outpouring of the Holy Spirit at the hands of the bishop, the wonder at God's goodness in calling him to the priesthood. Who would not joy-fully kiss the sacred altar in gratitude for such undeserved blessing? Again and again the priest kisses the altar in celebration of the Sunday parish Mass, of weddings and anniversaries, of others' ordinations and gatherings of the church. He stands behind the altar, not because he i~ better than others but because he bears the identity of Christ, the only true Priest, who came not to be served but to serve. In reality, standing behind the altar is an act of humil-ity, a stance of service. There are also sad occasions at which the priest kisses the altar, when he leads God's people in prayer with Christ the con-soler, the one who knows our pain and the grief of death, the one who announced "Peace!" when he found his apostles gathered in fear after his resurrection from the dead. Av those times the priest stands with Christ, the giver of hope, who in times of difficulty trusted wholeheartedly in the providence of his Father. Sometimes when the priest kisses the altar only he himself knows the nature of the cross he bears. Perhaps he is keenly pained by the weight of his sinfulness, so his kiss symbolizes his need for Christ's mercy. Perhaps at other times his kiss is an act of the will and a prayer that Christ will help him understand the challenges he faces as a priest. Perhaps it is at times a simple act of love: "I love you, Christ, my Lord." At any time, and in any circumstance, the priest kisses the altar as a dramatic reminder of who he is and who he is called to imitate. Will I kiss the altar every day? 2. Am I willing to be led? The first and primary commitment of the priest is to pray. Whether we consider ourselves seasoned pray-ers is not the point. Help is available in the form of good reading material and spiri-tual direction, and it is never too late to begin. Any priest who dares to take on a responsibility in the name of God and the church without a simultaneous commitment to daily prayer will soon find that he is an empty well. If I am a steward, how can I 682 Review for Religious give what I do not take the tittle to receive? If I am a preacher of the word of God, how can I speak of what I do not take the time to hear? If I want to lead in the ways of God, how can I do so without assuring I am first being led? Concern for a particular style of prayer likewise sidesteps the point; God works with me as I am. But I must begin (again?), and if I have not yet begun, I should begin today. Karl Rahner once told seminarians at the University of Innsbruck that if we wait until we feel like praying, we will rarely pray. As Bernard writes to Eugene about his duties as pope, he is very aware of the hazards of his friend's busy office. Eugene has been taken from his monastic milieu and placed at the head of the church's administration. His temptation is to give himself so completely to his new duties that he has no time for himself and no time for God. He is new enough at the job to still feel uncomfortable with the hectic pace of his life; Bernard's fear is that Eugene will settle into his heavy schedule and become so calloused and habituated to an unreflective life that he will no longer realize that his acceptance of relentless busyness is not a sign of inner peace, but of hardness of heart. "It is not the virtue of patience to permit yourself to be enslaved when you can be free . Are you less a slave because you serve not one but all. ? [1.4.5.] I praise your devotion to humanity, but only if it be complete. Now, how can it be complete when you have excluded yourself?. You too are human . You also should drink from the waters of your well . If you are a stranger to yourself, to whom are you not?" [On Consideration, 1.5.6]~ In prayer we discover who we are. In prayer God nourishes us with food of real substance and changes us in ways hidden even to ourselves. In prayer we return over and again to the source of our vocation and gradually begin to take on the likeness of Christ who is our true self. We will ask for guidance in specific circum-stances; but true discernment takes place not when I demand of God, "Tell me what to do!" but when in openness of heart and generosity of spirit I simply allow myself to be led by the Holy Spirit, with no expectation or goal other than to become his instrument in all things. 3. Am I willing to be a leader? This question is more complex than it first sounds, for it goes beyond one's willingness to take on a job, to be in charge, or one's capacity to accept or claim responsibility. More fundamentally, September-October 1994 683 Sartain * The Challenge of Priestly Leadership it means "am I willing to give of myself to this endeavor, this parish, this school--knowing that I am also accepting a great bur-den-- because I believe in its mission, value its growth, and love its people? .Am I willing to be a leader when it is fun and when it is painful? .Am I willing to take time and effort to communi-cate, to care, to consult, to weigh tough choices, and to decide?" "Am I willing to take a firm stand when necessary, knowing that the opposition may be fierce? . Am I willing to abide the mistrust and misunderstanding of authority prevalent in our society, and in the church? . Am I willing to admit my mistakes? . Am I willing to admit that as a leader I am a public person and thus a frequent topic of discussion?" When a newly ordained priest begins to realize that he is regarded as a leader, he notices that people relate to him in a new way, particularly if he is the final word on a decision. He is star-tled that some people, are suspicious of him, even coworkers and friends with whom he has previously worked. His protestations to the contrary, some will insist that he has changed simply because he has been ordained to the priesthood. Often p~ople project upon leaders whatever unpleasant experiences they have had with authority figures. The leader becomes the embodiment of all that made them angry or distrustful in the past; I become the cranky pastor, the mean nun from grade school, the unfair principal from high school, or the uncaring coach. Such projection is blatantly unfair and unmerited, and in reaction we strive to alleviate the suspicion of authority by our efforts at good Christian leader-ship. Unfortunately, we must accept the fact that such efforts will not always work. %then we assume a position of leadership, some will relate to us in a strained, unsettling way. Are we willing to live with such change, or will we constantly frustrate ourselves by try-ing to change others' attitudes,~over which ultimately we have no control? Experience tells me that most people are supportive day-to-day. However, some tend to forget that leaders are people, too. We have feelings, anxieties, needs, just like everyone else; but angry parents or anonymous letter writers ignore our feelings and are unconcerned about our preoccupations. They have something to say, and they want us to listen, period. The father of a sixth grader can enter my office, deposit his anger and complaints at my feet, and leave. If the meeting has not resolved all of his con-cerns, he has the satisfaction of knowing that he has lobbed the 684 Review for Religious bomb in the appropriate direction! But what about me? After I close the rectory door, I am left to myself in the midst of his rub-ble. Such experiences give me pause to consider my motivation for accepting the leadership role: Was it the prestige of the job? Was it to be well thought of?. Was it to be congratulated on hav-ing attained an exalted position? If so, the first onslaught of criticism will be devastating. Did I assume this position only because my bishop appointed me to it? At some point I must claim it as mine or I am doomed to misery and resentment. Priests are public property. We are delighted when parishioners remem-ber our birthdays and anniversaries, but we are chagrined to learn that they also know the license plate number of our cars, the name of the restaurant where we dined two weeks ago (as well as the names of our companions), and the gist of the disagreement we are rumored to have had with the sacristan last month. Our whereabouts on Friday evenings and during vaca-tions are the topics of conversation at coffee klatches; most of the time the conversations are harmless, but sometimes they are malicious. Thus one of the major adjustments facing the newly ordained priest is the experience of our fishbowl lifestyle. Priestly leadership is not anonymous but public, and we cannot expect to disappear into the woodwork once ordained. The challenge is to create the balance of privacy which rejuvenates us for the public nature of our ministry. It should not surprise us that people talk about us, nor should it surprise us when we occasionally discover those who are preoccupied with us. 4. Am I willing to see this work as constitutive of my call to holiness? Am I willing to view my particular ministry not just as what God wants me to do (the assignment God has given me!), but as the very means he will use to make me holy? When I begin to see my work as the very context in which Godwill make me holy, whatever challenges and frustrations I experience along the way take on a new meaning. They are no longer obstacles to happiness "Am I willing to admit that as a leader I am a public person and thus a frequent topic of discussion ?" September-October 1994 685 Sartain ¯ The Challenge of Priestly Leadership but means to growth; they are no longer occasions for exposure of my dark side but God's hopeful call to conversion. There is a flip side to this series of questions: For whom am I doing this work? For myself? For others? Or for God? My answer to that question will in large measure determine my suc-cess and sense of well-being in carrying out the work. If I am doing it for any reason other than the love of God and his peo-ple, I will never know joy in the work, and the work will never be a means of growth in holiness for me. Until I embrace the truth that God has called me to this leadership role, I will not enjoy the fullness of his grace and the love that he shows me through the work. Our motives are rarely pure; we are a mix of motivations and hidden agenda. We need not be surprised at our duplicity, for from the midst of our mixed motives God calls us to contin-ually refocus our attention on his love and his people. St. Augustine begins his Sermon on Pastors with the follow-ing words: I must distinguish "carefully between two aspects of the role the Lord has given me, a role that demands a rigorous accountability, a role based on the Lord's greatness rather than on my own merit. The first aspect is that I am a Christian; the second, that I am a leader. I am a Christian for my own sake, whereas I am a leader for your sake; the fact that I am a Christian is to nay own advantage, but I am a leader for your advantage. Many persons come to God as Christians but not as leaders. Perhaps they travel by an easier road and are less hindered since they bear a lighter burden. In addition to the fact that I am a Christian and must give God an account of my life, I as a leader must give him an account of my stewardship as well (Sermon 46, 1-2). ". I am a leader for your sake." God uses priests as his instrument in dealing with others in particular circumstances. That is a cause for humility, not pride, for the role is based on the Lord's greatness rather than on our merit. Priestly leadership is a function of stewardship, the stewardship of a disciple, a servant. I have something to give--but what I have to contribute is itself God's gift to 'me. As Paul wrote, "Name something you have that you did not receive" (1 Cor 4,7). Moreover, as Rabbi Abraham Heschel observed, "What we own, we owe."" I am a steward. Vocations are often viewed in terms of "giving up." One "gives up" this or that in light of a higher good. There is a danger in dwelling on that perspective, for if I focus on what I am giving up, 686 Review for Religious I will eventually succumb to anger and resentment. If I were preparing to be married and announced to my fiancee, "I'm giv-ing up a lot for you, but you're worth it," she would be justified in saying, "then. keep it!" If a priest says the same to God, God would be justified to reply, "Come back when you've forgotten about giving up and are ready to give." My response to God's call is my willingness to give completely of myself, in response to his goodness to me. Is that not what Jesus did? Did he not recognize that he too was a steward of the Father's gifts, of the Father's will? Every Christian vocation is a reflection of the gratuitous self-giving of God; only a commit-ment that is consciously made, sure and focused, can be a limpid mirror, an image of the Invisible. It is precisely here that the church Fathers saw the true mean-ing of martyrdom and sacrifice. A sacrifice is some treasure which I remove irrevocably from my use and offer to God as a sign of my inner gift of self. In burning the first fruits or the choicest animals, I give them away with no strings attached. This is conscious and voluntary giving and not giving up; the sacrifice of Jesus was his conscious and voluntary gift of himself to the Father for our sake. It is difficult to give without expecting anything in return, but it is that giving to which we are called. Another gauge of my vocation is the following question: 7b vabom am I giving myself completely? Until I have a firm grasp on the answer to that question, I will remain a bag of mixed motives, and I will measure my successes by the wrong yardstick. I will add a postscript to this section. While we must be care-ful not to focus on what we have given up in accepting our cur-rent role in the church, we should be cognizant of any giving up that our lay coworkers have done in accepting the tasks of min-istry; we recognize their sacrifice and thank both them and God for it. God is grateful for our gifts, and we are stewards of his gratitude as well. 5. ~lm I ~villing to work through my inevitable disenchantment? Our vocation is lived in the real world, where Christian val-ues and the gospel itself are often compromised, or at least imper-fectly incarnated in people like [~s. Life is not perfect, and I must come to terms with imperfection--that of the church, of my supe-riors and co-workers, and my own. Most of us who work with the church go through experiences of disenchantment. We have high ideals and lofty goals; we love our September-October 1994 687 Sartain ¯ The Challenge of Priestly Leadership work. We are enchanted by the mystery and beauty of the mission we have accepted. What happens when I see the clay feet of the church, when I confront the difficulty of living out God's call? Disenchantment can occasion some unsettlingoquestions. Why should I try at all? No one else seems to be trying. V~as my ide-alism childish illusion? Those who are asking me to do a job are making it difficult for me to accomplish the task! I may be dis-tressed by the behavior of my superiors or coworkers or by my own behavior. At such times I am called to recommit myself to the ideals of the gospel and to practice mercy, one of the more diffi-cult virtues. Anger is often justified, and disillusionment under-standable, but of what value are they if not used for go~d? Disenchantment can be transformed into renewed commit-ment, a deepened self-giving. It is a tangible way to enter into the sacrifice God made in taking on human form, for in our own disenchantment we touch the embarrassing humility~of God, who was willing to embody his perfect love in our imperfect nature, The "self-emptying" of the Son of God of which Paul wrote to the Philippians, is the voluntary "disenchantment of God," who took on our nature conscious of what fragile and misshapen vessels we are., In our disenchantment we are reminded of the profound humility of God and our absolute dependence on his grace. There but for God's grace go we--for we may be the cause of another's disenchantment. Are our hearts big enough, to embrace the humility of God? Some Practical Exl~ortations i. Always rentain consciously and practically rooted in the founda-tions of the priesthood: the Word of God and the Eucharist. Recent years have witnessed the evolution of specializations in almost every field of endeavor. On the one hand, such a phenomenon is the positive by-product of explosive developments in science and medicine; on the other hand, when seen in the priesthood it can become a tempting trap. The priest who is preoccupied with seek-ing his "niche" in the church--his specialization--may very well forget who he is. The priest is ontologically and irrevocably linked to Christ and the church; thus he is the one who prays, serves, sacrifices, cel-ebrates the Eucharist, absolves, heals--lives!--in the person of Christ. That is "who he is." His ministry may take a very partic- 688 Review for Religious ular direction--one that may last a lifetime or one that may change frequently; but any job he undertakes, any niche he dis-covers, is secondary to who he is in Christ. A pastor may wish to develop new and innovative programs for his parish, programs that fill in the gaps and address newly-discovered needs. But if he does not at the same time consciously identify himself with the Eucharistic Christ, he loses the depth and richness of his min-istry; and his people are deprived of the church's fundamental gifts. The priest is consecrated for his specialty, his niche, at ordi-nation; his speciality is his Christ-identity. 2. Remember that sloppy management and procrastination hurt people. Every morning more mail arrives to be piled on the stack already on my desk; there is yet another form to fill out, another phone call to return, statistical research to undertake for the chancery (the sins of nay past have returned to haunt me!). For many priests, such tasks are repulsive because they seem to bear no relation to ministry. They are unrelated to the real-life situa-tions of flesh-and-blood parishioners. At times I have been careless in responding to these tasks, only to discover that ultimately my laxity hurt someone. Perhaps the form I was remiss in completing was a job reference; or the phone call I procrastinated in returning was related to a com-plaint unfairly registere'd about a coworker, and my tardiness meant that his or her reputation needlessly suffered. Perhaps the research requested of me was crucial to a grant proposal for a new ministry in the diocese. At some point I began to attach human faces to the tedium, which reminded me that such tasks would ultimately help persons (in most cases, at least!). Now my motivation is stronger to com-plete tasks at the proper time. 3. Don't give someone a difficult job but make it difficult to com-plete. I have purposely posed a positive principle in a negative fash-ion in order to emphasize a point. When I delegate a difficult task---for example, I ask the principal to develop a balanced school budget--I do not release myself of the responsibility to make it work. I have observed church administrators establish an adver-sarial relationship with those to whom they had delegated a diffi-cult job. When I delegate I am not abdicating responsibility; on the contrary, I am pledging cooperation and understanding, and I may be acknowledging that I do not possess the skills required to com-plete the task. We demoralize parishioners and coworkers when we ~eptember-October 1994 689 Sartain ¯ The Challenge of Priestly Leadership make requests of them and then place unreasonable restrictions on their performance. We also demoralize others when we assign them a task that is simply impossible to complete. 4. Don't give someone a job you know the person will shirk; then you get angry when the job isn't done. Chuang Tzu, a Taoist philoso-pher of the 3rd century B.C., understood this truth. One of the most famous of all Chuang Tzu's "principles" is that called "three in the morning," from the story of the monkeys whose keeper planned to give them three mea-sures of chestnuts in the morning and four in the evening but, when they complained, changed his plan and gave them four in the morning and three in the evening. What does the story mean? Simply that the monkeys were foolish and that the keeper cynically outsmarted them? Quite the contrary. The point is rather that the keeper had enough sense to recognize that the monkeys had irrational reasons of their own for wanting four measures of chesmuts in the morning, and did not stubbornly insist on his original arrangement. He was not totally indifferent, and yet he saw that an acci-dental difference did not affect the substance of his arrange-ment. Nor did he waste time demanding that the monkeys try to be "more reasonable" about it when monkeys are not expected to be reasonable in the first place. It is when we insist most firmly on everyone else being "reasonable" that we become, ourselves, unreasonable? It is unfair to ask someone to undertake a task for which the per-son is unsuited. A good leader matches task to talent. 5. Say "yes" when you mean "yes" and "no" when you mean "no." There is no substitute for clarity in communication with cowork-ers and parishioners. If I speak in circles out of reluctance to deal with conflict or my fear of taking a stand, it will o~nly serve to confuse others. Eventually they will be angry with me, and their anger is justified. I will have led them nowhere. 6. Don't harbor unrealistic expectations of superiors. Leaders have superiors, and priests deal with senior priests, pastors, deans, vicars, and bishops; we owe them the accommodation and open-mindedness we expect fi'om others. 7. Don't take it personally. Some things will inevitably go awry, but seldom are mishaps directed intentionally at us. Life simply does not always work out the way we wish it would. When we meet failure it is important to remember that there is no clan-destine plot to make us miserable. Moreover, we may frequently deal with people at their worst, 690 Review for Religious and from time to time may find ourselves walking into a mael-strom of anger. Anger directed at us is often displaced anxiety about what is happening at home, a sense of powerlessness over a difficult child, a troubled marriage, or a lost job. Don't take it personally! We may be the object of the anger, but we are prob-ably not its root cause. Such experiences can be channeled as a means of growth in compassion; a discerning ear and heart can help heal at the root. 8. Nurture in your heart a deliberate commitment to human respect. After God, people come first. Are you willing to learn to love? The highest value to a leader is the human person: the neighbor, the brother, the sister. Spend time with the people with whom you work. Take time to console a grieving friend. Slow down to listen to the one who needs to talk. Be big enough to forgive, let go of grudges. Be first to extend a hand in friendship and last to judge. Be attentive to the little things in others' lives. Be mindful of birth-days and anniversaries, family tragedy, illness and hardship. Learn compassion and foster reconciliation. When reading the newspaper, notice first the names of people, then the statistics. Joyfully embrace sacrifice, faith, family, friends, and the one in need. 9. Temper all things. Priests are called both to challenge oth-ers to a better way of life and to reflect God's mercy when they fail. If we make the challenge needlessly harsh, it will discour-age; if we confuse mercy with permissiveness, it will encourage stagnation. The Rule of St. Benedict offers wise counsel to abbots in this regard: Therefore, drawing on . . . examples of discretion, the mother of all virtues, he must so temper all things that the strong may have something to strive for, and the weak noth-ing to dismay them (RB 64,19). 10. Recognize that as a priest you are also a leader within the pres-byterate. No priest is a free agent; by virtue of ordination we form phrt of a presbyterate and share in the pastoral role of our bishop. This article has been primarily concerned with the priest's leadership role in day-to=day ministry; what has not yet been said Priests are called both to challenge others to a better way of life and to reflect God's mercy when they fail. September-October 1994 691 Sartain ¯ The Challenge of Priestly Leadership is that we undertake the tasks of ministry in union with the pres-byterate. That is not simply a theological truth;' it is also a practi-cal challenge to strive for unity with our bishop and brother priests. It is more important for me to live in union with the pres-byterium than to be alone and absorbed in my work.4 But there is something more to add to this reflection. It has been my assumption that every priest is a leader; it is equally important to remember that every priest is a leader within the presbyterate. Dioceses and religious communities have devised structures to address the pastoral ministry and care of priests; there are pres-byteral councils, personnel boards, vicars for clergy, mentors, and the like. However, it is a great mistake to assume that only those who hold elected or appointed positions are leaders within the presbyterate. The most important leadership within the pres-byterate is that which springs spontaneously from fraternal love, the care of priest for priest. Some Final Considerations St. Bernard's second book On Consideration was written for Pope Eugene after the failure of the second crusade, for which Bernard himself had preached at the pope's behest. Bernard is aware that people will blame them for this dis-aster. He says he did what he thought was right., and he is willing to take the blame rather than have people murmur against God (2.1-1-4). He says this from the standpoint of one who does not need to be successful at every turn. A career is not the end all and be all of life: Virtues are more important than honors or results (2.7.14)'. "Plant, water, be concerned, and you have done your part" (4.2.2)~s Our daily tasks are the invisible path to holiness; but in the end, they are all God's work. When I was named Chancellor/Moderator of the Curia of my diocese, a fellow priest presented me with an essay entitled "The Penalty of Leadership," which first appeared in the Saturday Evening Post 2 January 1915, as an advertisement for Cadillac Motor Car Company. It begins: 692 Review for Religious In eve~ field of human endeavor, he that is first must per-petually live in the white light of publicity. Whether the leadership be vested in a man or in a manufactured product, emulation and envy. are ever at work. In art, in literature, in music, in industry, the reward and the punishment are always the same. The reward is widespread recognition; the punishment, fierce denial and detraction. Its author, Theodore MacManus, explains that the leader coura-geously upholds an enduring standard against the outcry of those who cannot comprehend lasting value. That is part of the penalty of leadership. Every priest finds that he is faced with similar chal-lenges; but for him leadership is worth its penalty., for he sees his position as a vocation, and he knows how profoundly he relies on the grace of God. Genuine leadership is determined neither by market share, nor by publicity, nor by power, nor by Gallup poll, but by the quality. of the heart. It is understood only by those willing to learn the meaning of the word sacrifice. Jesus did not tell his disciples not to aspire to leadership; rather, he said, "if you aspire to be leaders, then learn to serve." Learn great skills, make great plans, strive to improve. Butat the same time, learn to serve, to sacrifice for some-thing greater than yourself, for someone other than yourself. In the final analysis there is no penalty in leadership for the one who loves God and neighbor. The one who loves knows that loving is its own reward. And the one who struggles to love as Jesus loved will find unimagined fulfillment. And the church will gather courage and hope and grace from that kind of priestly leadership. Notes ~ Hugh Feiss OSB, "The Spirituality. of St. Bernard for Managers," Cistercian Studies XXV, no. 4, 1990: 271. 2 Abraham Joshua Heschel, Who is Man? (Stanford University Press, 1965), p. 112. 3 Thomas Merton, The Way of Chuang Tzu (New York: Ne~v Directions, 1969), p. 32. 4 Gisbert Greshake, The Meaning of Christian Priesthood (Dublin: Four Courts Press, 1988), p. 167 [quotatiou from "Instead of an epilogue: Ten principles for a priest's life pattern," proposed by Prof. Dr. ~,~. Breuning and Bishop Dr. KI. Hemmerle]. s Feiss, p. 273. September-October 1994 693 CATHERINE M. HARMER Election: A Call to Service One of the elements of apostolic religious life which has :hanged since the renewal period following Vatican Council II is the selection of leadership. Prior to the council most positions of leadership were appointed, the exceptions being supe-riors general, their councillors, and chapter delegates. Even when provincial chapters elected provincial superiors it was, in many cases, more accurately a nomination to be confirmed by the gen-eral council. Regional superiors and local superiors were appointed, with little if any input from the membership. Today many leadership positions are filled through election by the members, even when a confirmation is needed at another level. This movement toward greater participation of the members in the choice of their leadership has had both positive and nega-tive aspects associated with it. Most of the dire predictions about the decline in quality of the leaders chosen have not come to pass. There are, however, some unpredicted difficulties which continue to cause problems. In this article I will look at some of the back-ground of those problems and suggest a helpful discernment model. Even a cursory analysis of constitutions and directories of congregations shows that many more positions of leadership are now elected, often directly by the members. Thus, local, area or regional leaders, provincials and their councillors, and in a few cases generals and their councillors are directly elected by the Catherine M. Harmer MMS has worked as a consultant and facilitator for various religious congregations' chapters. Her address is Medical Mission Sisters; 300 W. Wellens Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19120. 694 Review for Religious members. Where direct election is not the case, there are strong nominating processes which are considered seriously by chapters or other electoral bodies. What is more interesting than the number of positions open to direct election is the increased openness about elections. In the past many of those who were the formal electors in fact held discussions among themselves and with the members about the potential leaders. This was informal, and when done responsibly, a way for the electors to broaden their own knowledge of the potential candidates. When done with less responsibility it had some of the characteristics of the "smoke-filled rooms" of the old American political system. Now, it is generally the practice to have the members involved in the selection process by means of suggestion or nominating lists. In some cases these suggestions are connected to predetermined criteria or to rationales given for a nomination. While there are definite values in this openness, a fear of "campaigning" has arisen. Some members are reluctant to be named in a process that might require them to submit to ques-tioning or to present a personal position regarding the office. Another growing concern is the reality that many elections are held with the majority of those who were nominated removing their names from the list prior to the election. I would like to address several of these problem areas in more detail, then look in a new way at the nature of election in religious congregations, and finally make some suggestions concerning the whole nature and the processes involved in election by members. Areas of Concern One current problem also existed in the time of limited involvement of the members. It is the connection in the minds of some religious between being chosen or not chosen and their own self-image. Even today at the time of election of chapter del-egates there are those who suffer a sense of not being appreci-ated because they are not chosen. In the business world one often measures one's self worth by salary and position within the com-pany. To be passed over is often a sign that it is t

Issue 41.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1982. ; The Jesuit's Fourth Vow The Post-Charismatic The Changing Role of Brothers Volume 41 Number 2 March/April, 1982 Rev~t-:w Eor REI.~GIOUS (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:.~601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW For RELIGIOU,':, is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. Louis, MO. © 1982 by REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOIJS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: Rt:vlt:w v'or Rt:LWaot~s: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1982 Volume 41 Number 2 Manuscripls, books for review and correspondence wilh Ihe editor should be sent to Rl.:VlEW E(m Rl-:i.l(;Iou.~; Rnom 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. I.ouis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be senl to Joseph F. Gallen. S.J.; Jesuit Communily; St. Joseph's University; (Sity Avenue al 541h St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~-:v~-:w ~-ox R~-:LI(;~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms Internationah 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Principles of Discernment Robert F. Morneau The last article of Bishop Morneau to appear in these pages was "'Dives in Misericordia: Themes and Theses," which appeared in the September issue. Bishop Morneau may be addressed care of the Ministry to Priests Program; 1016 N. Broadway; De Pere, WI 54115. The journey of life is filled with many choices, the consequences of which can be far-reaching. But as we enter into the decision-making process we are not necessar-ily alone. Friends and counselors frequently give helpful advice. Also we have the advantage of both personal and collective experience from which we can extract patterns and principles that provide guidance and wisdom. This essay spells out ten such principles that can help us discern God'svoice and respond to the Lord's call with generosity and courage. A basic belief underlies this endeavor: growth is much more likely to happen when we critically reflect upon our experience and watch for reoccurring patterns than when we simply move from one spontaneous experience to another without~explicitly dealing with any of them. Reflection, done in prayer and with serious ii~tent, provides insight and energy for spiritual development. Growth in the Lord is greatly impeded when reflection and articula-tion are absent. A three-fold method will be used: l) the articulation of ten principles of discernment; 2) a series of quotations from various authors who reflect some dimension of the basic principle; 3) a tripartite commentary which includes a reference to Scripture, an image illustrating the principle and an example from literature providing a case study of our theme. Discernment is a gift to be exercised; principles are abstractions offering mean-ing. Both are significant for human and spiritual growth. This essay presents the principles; the reader brings the gift and the experience. The hope is that the roads intersect rather than run parallel. 1. Discernment is a prayerful process by which ~xperiences are interpreted in faith. 161 162 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 By discernment of spirits is meant the process by which we examine, in the light of faith and in the connaturality of love, the nature of the spiritual states we experience in ourselves and in others. The purpose of such examination is to decide, as far as possible, which of the movements we experience lead to the Lord and to a more perfect service of him and our brothers, and which deflect us from this goal.~ Basically, as I see it, Discernment may be defined as the meeting point of prayer and action. That is, discernment is the art of recognizing what God is asking of us--what he would like us to do with our lives, how he wishes us to respond to the concrete life-situations which we encounter in following our vocation? The Christian who reflects on his own experience and on that of the community, who seeks to discern in these the divine voice, and who wants to respond to it by redirecting his life, is--theologically speaking--engaged in prayer.3 "Then he (Jesus) bent down and wrote on the ground again.TM The adulterous woman stood before him; the scribes and pharisees made their accusation; the people observed with keen curiosity. We do not know exactly what happened in the mind and heart of Jesus as he leaned forward and wrote in the sand with his finger. We do know that this immediate experience needed an interpretation. Jesus was a prayerful person; his bending forward in silence may well have been a deep moment of communion with the Father. The Gospel records the Lord's response to the situation: the accusers could silently withdraw, the accused could depart without condemnation. This is but one example of Jesus' ministry. Many other times he also turned to the Father for guidance: the prayer on the mountain before choosing the disciples, the garden prayer before his passion and death, the prayer in the desert when tempted to infidelity. The n~cessity for discernment is the experience at a crossroads; the standard for discernment is whether or not the decision leads to God and more complete service; the act of discernment requires a posture of contemplative faith. The combine used in harvesting and threshing grain has given tremendous help to the farmer. It separates the grain from the straw, retaining the former for winter feeding and discharging the latter in neat rows. The wheat and the chaff, the good and the evil, the true and the false, the beautiful and the ugly--throughout history the human spirit has been challenged to distinguish one from the other. This is no simple process. The grey areas are vast, time is often needed and not available, the multiplicity of experiences tends to clog up the task. Even with these obstacles, the spiritual combine of a discerning heart must perform its duty as well as it can. Grounded in prayer and nourished with learning, the spirits of good and evil can ~Discernment of Spirits, introd, by Edward Malatesta (Collegeville, M N: The Liturgical Press, 1970), p. 9. 2Thomas H. Green, S.J., Darkness in the Marketplace (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Mafia Press, 1982), p. 69. 3Gregory Baum, Man Becoming INew York: Herder and Herder, 1970), p. 256. *See Jn 8:8. Principles of Discernment be sorted out and properly responded to. Graham Greene's The Power and the Glory is a story about spiritual discern-ment, its successes and its failures. The "whiskey priest" must constantly make decisions concerning his person and his ministry as he is confronted with the Mexican religious persecution. The failures of discernment may well be grounded in the reflection: "a prayer demanded an act and he had no intention of acting." His success would demand courage and sanctity; the vision is given but not its reality: He felt only an immense disappointment because he had to go to God empty-handed, with nothing done at all. It seemed to him at that moment that it would have been quite easy to have been a saint. It would only have needed a little self-restraint and a little courage. He felt like someone who has missed happiness'by seconds at an appointed place. He knew now that at the end there was only one thing that counted--to be a saint) Discernment is that prayerful process allowing each individual and the larger community to move in the direction of sanctity. 2. Discernment must deal with many voices seeking to capture our minds, hearts and energies. Since the mysterious voice of the Spirit is not the only voice we hear but comes to us accompanied by the tumultuous sounds of our own conflicting impulses and the clamorings of the entire creation, it is essential for us to be able to discern the presence of the Spirit in order to choose to say "yes" to him.6 So the soul that waits in silence must learn to disentangle the voice of God from the net of other voices--the ghostly whisperings of the subconscious self, the luring voices of the world, the hindering voices of misguided friendship, the clamor of personal ambition and vanity, the murmur of self-will, the song of unbridled imagination, the thrilling note of religious romance. To learn to keep one's ear true to so subtle a labyrinth of spiritual sound is indeed at once a great adventure and a liberal education. One hour of such listening may give us a deeper insight into the mysteries of human nature, and surer instinct for divine values, than a year's hard study or external intercourse with men.7 While his mind had been pursuing its intangible phantoms, and turning in irresolution from such pursuit, he had heard about him the constant voices of his father and of his masters, urging him to be a gentleman above all things and urging him to be a good Catholic above all things. These voices had 9ow come to hollow sounding in his ears. When the gymnasium had been opened he had heard another voice urging him to be strong and manly and healthy and when the movement towards national revival had begun to be felt in the college, yet another voice had bidden him to be true to his country and help to raise up her language and tradition. in the profane world, as he foresaw, a worldly voice would bid him raise up his father's fallen state by his labors and, meanwhile, the voice of his school comrades urged him to be a decent fellow, to shield others from blame or to beg them off and to do his best to get free days for the school. And it was the din of all these hollow sounding voices that made him halt irresolutely in the pursuit of phantoms. He gave them ear only for a time but he was happy SGraham Greene, /Tie Power and the Glory (New York: The Viking Press, 1940), p. 284. 6Discernment of Spirits, p. 9. 7Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf(New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1963), p. 43. 164 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 only when he was far from them, beyond their call, alone or in the company of phantasmal comrades.S The parable of the good shepherd stresses the importance of recognizing the voice of the master.9 Eternal life depends on this; only those who hear and respond enter into the fullness of life. But Jesus' voice was one among many. Competition for the sheep was great and, given the gift of freedom, there could be no forcing of individual liberty. Though Jesus called some directly, they refused to listen: the rich young man, Judas, the scribes and pharisees. Others, men like John, Stephen and Paul, heard the loving call and became committed disciples. The voice of the risen Lord continues to compete with the sounds of our times. He can be heard in our sacraments of faith, in the sights and sounds of nature, in the revelation of Scripture, in the community of believers, in the words and deeds of our fellow pilgrims. Life itself is a summons to reach out and fulfill our task of becoming fully human in order that we might glorify our God. Radios have a selective apparatus called a tuner through which we can choose the station that pleases us. Many excellent possibilities are available: beautiful music, intelligent conversation, educational programs. Other options expose us to dissonant sounds, inane banality, devious propaganda. With a twist of the dial we have the power to position ourselves in any one of these environments and thus grant permission to certain ideas and images to enter and shape our perspective. In the spiritual realm, discernment tunes itself to God's message of love and forgive-ness in Jesus and lives this deep mystery in word and deed. A novel by Chaim Potok entitled My Name is Asher Lev presents an artisti-cally gifted young man who has to discern among many voices. Early in life Asher Lev recognizes that his ability to draw had not only the potential for self-fulfillment but also the possibility of a serious rupture with his parents and the Jewish community at large. In anger and confusion he argues with God: You don't want me to use the gift; why did you give it to me? Or did it come to me from the Other Side? it was horrifying to think my gift may have been given to me by the source of evil and ugliness. How can evil and ugliness make a gift of beauty?~0 The pressure from the leaders of the community, the warnings of frie,nds, the intrinsic urgings of the gift, the delicate relationship with his parents were all voices seeking attention and action. Would the gift be heard and exercised regardless of the cost? Discernment calls for radical fidelity to God, self and others. Wisdom and courage are needed to hear the truth and implement it in our personal history. 3. Discernment is cultivated in listening love that allows one to hear the .felt-experience of good and evil movements within oneself, others and society. a James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (New York: Colonial Press Inc., 1944), pp. 83-84. 9Jn 10: I-5. ~°Chaim Potok, My Name is Asher Lev (New York: Fawcett Crest Books, 1972), p. 116. Principles of Discernment / 165 For these souls, their hearts tell them what God desires. They have only to listen to the promptings of their hearts to interpret his will in the existing circumstances. God's plans, disguised ,as they are, reveal themselves to us through our intuition rather than through our rea.son. I I Love gives freedom. Love accepts another person as he is, and discerns in the other person hidden strength. Love communicates to the other a new kind of self-possession, and enables the other to act with self-confidence.~2 Only by the supernatural working of grace can a soul pass through its own annihilation to the place where alone it can get the sort of attention which can attend to truth and to affliction. It is the same attention which listens to both of them. The name of this intense, pure, disinter-ested, gratuitous, generous attention is love.~ It is not blind love that is the enduring love, the love that God himself is. It is a seeing love, a knowing love, a love that looks through into the depth of the heart of God, and into the depth of our hearts. There is no strangeness to love; love knows; it is the only power to complete and lasting knowledge?4 Jesus was a listener and a lover. In a powerful exchange with Peter,15 Jesus listens to Peter's profession that his master is indeed Messiah; Jesus also hears Peter's unwillingness to embrace the fact that the Messiah must suffer and die. As he listens with love Jesus discerns the first response of Peter as coming from the Father and the second movement and response as coming from mere human standards. This beautiful example of double discernment resonates with many of our own experiences in which we act out of mixed motives and according to diverse and sometimes contradictory criteria. Authentic discernment is possible only when one has the graced ability to listen in love to the deepest impulses, urges and longings of the human heart with great care and exquisite respect. Jesus models for us the very essence of discernment. The sunflower delights both our eye and our imagination. In the morning it faces the east awaiting the dawn; by evening it gazes to the west as though pursuing its god. Two qualities are evident in this docile plant: the "listening" power ena-bling it to take in the sun's warm rays and its ability to respond to the flight of the sun in loving fidelity. This image highlights the importance of sensitivity in the discernment process. The slightest, impulse, urging and prompting must be absorbed and responded to if we are to faithfully follow the call of the Master. Such listening and responding is grounded in love. Love pulls us out of self-preoccupation and the parochialism of our narrow lives. The sunflower images a type of listening and love characteristic of a discerning heart. Would that the simplicity, spontaneity and flexibility of the sunflower were ours! ~Jean Pierre De Caussade, Abandonment to Divine Providence (New York: Doubleday Image Book, 1975), p. 105. ~2Man Becoming. p. 50. ~The Simone Weil Reader, p. 333. ~'~Paul Tillich. The Shaking of the Foundations (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1948), p. II0. ~SMt. 16:13-23. 166 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 The movie, Ordinary People, presented a scene in which an emotionally dis-turbed young man reached out to a psychiatrist for help: Initially the relationship did not go well. Later, with time and patience, the deep loving concern and listening skills of the doctor won out. The boy revealed his story and partial healing took place. More than simple listening'happened here: a deep discernment of the movements of the heart surfaced, were owned and dealt with. More than superficial concern was demonstrated here: a profound, radical trust resulted in giving life and well-being. In such instances heart speaks to heart (cot ad cot) and even though religious language is not used nor God mentioned explicitly, a person of faith can recognize his presence in such an encounter and appreciate the exercise of the gift of discernment. 4. Discernment relies on two mirrors: Jesus and revelation. The disciple living today.does possess one ultimate criterion for correct discernment: i.e., Jesus himself.~6 With the help of the Holy Spirit, it is the task of the entire People of God, especially pastors and theologians, to hear, distinguish and interpret the many voices of our age, and to judge them in the light of the divine Word. In this way, revealed truth can always be more deeply penetrated, better understood, and set forth to greater advantage,t7 Jesus is our m~.ster to whom we do not pay enough attention. He speaks to every heart and utters the word of life, the essential word for each one of us, but we do not hear it. We would like to know what he has said to other people, yet we do not listen to what he says to us.~ The miracle of the loaves as presented in John's Gospel~9 involves an example of discernment. Many of the disciples who had followed Jesus up to this point now walked away, finding incredible the claim that Jesus himself was the bread of life. The Lord turned to the Twelve and asked if they too would go away. Simon Peter's. response: "Lord, who shall we go to? You have the message of eternal life.'~0 The specific choice that was made was based on a person and his word. No abstract philosophy here; no esoteric theology; no subtle psychology. Discernment and decision flowed from a relationship of trust and faith. Implicit in such a discernment process is fidelity: decisions are made in terms of personal commit-ment. Such fidelity secures personal identity because in such an exercise of free-dom we protect both the reality of the Creator and the creature. No lies are possible with authentic discernment. The keystone of an arch is in a precarious position. Its presence makes the arch integral, but it is dependent on the two columns which it unites. If either column is missing there simply is no arch and the stone meant to be a key remains just an ~6Jon Sobrino, Christology at the Crossroads. trans. John Drury (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1978), p. 129. ~TThe Documents of Vatican IL Gaudium et Spes New York: Herder and Herder, 1966), p. 246. taAbandonment to Divine Providence. p. 53. ~'~Jn 6:1-71. Principles of Discernment ] 167 ordinary stone. Discernment rests on the personal column of Jesus Christ: his values and affections are the very substance we use in sorting out the many options of life. Discernment also rests on Sacred Scripture which provides a vision of salvation history and the backdrop for measuring what is spiritual and what is not. Blessed are the poor, the peacemakers, the ones who hunger and thirst for justice; ungodly are the self-indulgent, the self-serving, the lukewarm. Revelation clarifies those actions which are life-giving and those which are death-dealing. The person of Jesus leaves unambiguous the path we are to follow. Such lights as Jesus and Scripture are rich and necessary graces for our journey. The Confessions of Augustine of Hippo reveal a man for whom the word of God and the person of Jesus were vital sources of power. It was in St. Paul's letter to the Romans that God's word overwhelmed the struggling Augustine; it was in personal relationship with Christ that he perceived reality from a faith perspective. Augustine's hunger for the truth, nourished for years by the classic philosophers, now found sustenance from Scripture. Augustine's deep affectivity, once franti-cally seeking fulfillment in an unbridled sensuous life, found its home in the Lord. With these two resources it is no wonder that the bishop of Hippo is noted for his keen, incisive decisions. Both as a judge of human affairs and as an exegete of Scripture, he brought much life to many because his process of discernment was rooted in the Lord and in biblical faith. 5. Discernment assumes that God is continually working in the depth of every individual and community. He (God) revealed himself several times reigning, as is said before, but principally in man's soul; he has taken there his resting place and his honorable city. Out of this honorable throne he will never rise or depart without end. Marvelous and splendid is the place where the Lord dwells; and therefore he wants us promptly to attend to the touching of his.grace, rejoicing more in his unbroken love than sorrowing over our frequent failings.2~ But whatever we do, we do it because we are diawn to this particular acti6n without knowing why. All we can say can be reduced to this: ~'1 feel drawn to write, to read, to question and examine. I obey this feeling, and God, who is responsible for it, thus builds up within me a kind of spiritual store which, in the future, will develop into a Sore of usefulness for myself and for others." This is what makes it essential for us to be simple-hearted, gentle, compliant and sensitive to the slightest breath of these almost imperceptible promptings.22 Ah, but it is hard to find this track of the divine in the midst of this life we lead, in this besotted humdrum age of spiritual blindness, with its architecture, its business, its politics, its men!2J The realization that God is active in all that happens at every moment is the deepest knowl-edge we can have in this life of the things of God?4 ~°Jn 6:68. 2~Julian of Norwich: Showings. trans. Edmond Colledge, O.S.A., and James Walsh, S.J., Classics of Western Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1978). p. 337. 2~Abandonment to Divine Providence, p. 81. ~Steppenwolf, p. 35. 24Abandonment to Divine Providence, p. 117. 1611 / Review for Religious, March-Apri!, 1982 Creation is God's presence to us in beauty; the cross is God's presence to us in our brokenness and twistedness.2~ God's creative and redemptive power is at work wherever there is life. Whether or not a given individual responds to that presence is dependent upon the working of grace and freedom. The point is that God is always working. John's Gospel drives this fact home.26 Accepting this in faith, we. are challenged to become increasingly conscious of divine stirrings deep within our individual lives as well as our communities. Focal awareness, a high intensity consciousness, may not be that frequent, but subsidiary awareness, a sense of a background presence, can become a way of life.27 As our faith deepens we become ever more sensitive to the working of God's Spirit in our minds and hearts. The life story of the grape can provide an image of the discernment captured by the vines and their energy transformed into grapes. Upon. beir~g harvested and crushed, the grape enters into a fermentation process. Through the hidden work-ings of bacteria surrounded by proper temperatures, darkness and sugars, the grapes are converted into wine. So, too, in our spiritual journey, the need for ongoing conversion is a constant call and is made possible through the perennial movements of God in our innermost being. The sourness of the unredeemed areas of our inner life are turned into the succulent sweetness of a life of union. In her sensitive allegory Hinds' Feet on High Places, Hannah Hurnard has us journey with the main character Much-Afraid through a fermentation process that eventually results in "much-trust." At first our heroine is enslaved by fear, oppressed by human respect, devoid of joy. Gradually she begins to sense the stirrings of grace within her soul. God's promptings lead Much-Afraid into free, dom and then on to acts of courage. Her story is symbolic of all those enslaved by fear. Her liberation in grace is greatly aided by an exercise that could well become the model for many: To this place she was in the habit of going very early every morning to meet Him and learn His wishes and commands for the day, and again in the evening to give her report on the day's work.28 Such conversation and accountability enrich the discerning heart. 2~John Shea, Stories of God: An Unauthorized Biography (Chicago, II1.: Thomas More Association, 1978), p. 152. ~Jn 6. 271n an essay entitled "The study of Man," Michael Polanyi writes: "We may say that when we com-prehend a particular set of items as parts of a whole, the focus of our attention is shifted from the hitherto uncomprehended particulars to the understanding of their joint meaning. This shift of attention does not make us lose sight of the particulars, since one can see a whole only by seeing its parts, but it changes altogether the manner in which we are aware of the particulars. We become aware of them now in terms of the whole on which we have fixed our attention. I shall call this a subsidiary awareness of the particulars, by contrast to a focal awareness which would fix attention on the particulars in themselves, and not as parts of a whole. (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1959), pp. 29-30. 28Hannah Hurnard, Hinds' Feet on High Places (Old Tappan, New Jersey: Fleming H. Revell Com-pany, 1973), p. 13. Principles of Discernment / 169 6. Discernment respects the nature of time and is willing to wait freely for a decision that has need of clarification, detachment and magnanimity. Ligfitning and thunder require time, the light of the stars requires time, deeds require time even after they are done, before they can be seen and heard,z9 Simply by making us wait he increases our desire, which in turn enlarges the capacity of our soul,/naking it able to receive what is to be given usP0 The poet contrasts us in our waiting and in our going ahead. For those who take initiative into their own hands, either in the atheism of pride or in the atheism of despair, the words are weary, faint, and exhausted. The inverse comes with waiting: renewed strength, mounting up, running, walking. But that is in waiting. It is in receiving not grasping, in inheriting and not possessing, in praising and not seizing. It is in knowing that initiative has passed from our hands and we are safer for it.3~ Many of the Lord's parables deal with the notions of time and waiting. One of these tells of the necessity of being ready for the master's return from the wedding feast.32 Happy for those who are awake and prepared for the unexpected. Fear, weariness and even impatience are moods that threaten our call to decide to respond to God's call. Milton's "they also serve who. only stand and wait" expresses a situation that only the most courageous can accept. Timing in decision-making is most subtle; in'deed, God's time (kairos) is often not our time (chronos). A basic guideline in the spiritual life is that we "act on our clarities." When things are too muddy we wait, however painful that may be. Without expecting a certi-tude or clarity that is unrealistic, we gradually 'become comfortable with that faith fact that seeking and waiting can be as meritorious and grace-filled as finding. The important thing is that God's will be done.33 Telephone companies provide a service by which a person can find out the correct time by dialing a certain number. Wo~uld that our inner seasons were as clear as our chronological time frame! It is hard to discern in winter when dor-mancy and coldness immobilize our hearts. People are counseled never to make decisions of major import when depressed; it is simply the wrong time. No~" should decisions be made when romanticism sweeps through the heart blinding the indi-vidual to the shadow side of life. We discern on level ground, not on the peaks nor in the valleys. The correct time is known more through intuition than rational deduction--we sense discernment more than figure it out. The phone number locates us and orientates us according to the sun; discernment provides bearings in reference to a much brighter Light. Shakespeare's King Lear provides an excellent example of timing and dis-cernment. The king was aging and decided to distribute his property and wealth among his daughters, each being given a share in proportion to her profession of mPeter Berger, A Rumor of Angels (New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1969), p. I I. 3°Thomas H. Green. S.J., When the Well Runs Dry (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Maria Press, 1979), p. 113. 3*Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Philadelphia, PA: Fortress Press, 1978), pp. 78-79. J~Lk 12:35-40. 17t) / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 love for her father. Not only was Lear unwise in his standard of division, he was misguided in his time. The consequence was eventual insanity and death. Dis-cernment demands a standard, one based on knowledge of reality and deep faith. Discernment demands awareness of the Lord's timing. Until that surfaces we wait, trusting that the Lord will show us his plan. Detachment allows us to accept whatever is asked; magnanimity provides room to welcome whatever is given. Discernment needs much grace and graciousness. 7. Discernment is a gift which comes to those who are properly attuned through obedience and surrender. In everything else, this soul will preserve a perfect liberty, always ready to obey the stirrings of grace the moment it becomes aware of them, and to surrender itself to the care of providence.34 When a soul has reached the third stage, the love of friendship and filial love, her love is no longer mercenary. Rather she does as very close friends do when one receives a gift from the other. The receiver does not just look at the gift, but at the heart and the love of the giver, and accepts and treasures the gift only because of the friend's affectionate IoveP~ The hearing of God's Word requires complete self-surrender.36 The Annunciation narrative in Luke's GospeP7 presents Mary in a perplexing situation. Her future with Joseph had been determined; plans were made; impor-tant decisions were set in motion. Suddenly God breaks into the "best-laid schemes o' mice an' men." What is to be done? To whom does one listen? What price the surrender of one's will to the call of God? This biblical account gives us a classic example of discernment. The divine will summons and history hangs in balance. Though struggling with fear and the unknown, Mary discerns the voice of the Lord and in prompt obedience and generous surrender commits her life to the providence of her God. That gift of discernment was rooted in her identity as the handmaid of the Lord. Mary knew who she was and it was from that giftedness of her graced filled life that such an extravagant and total response poured forth from her heart. A hearing aid is a grea't blessing for those individuals for whom deafness is an encroaching reality. This technical device helps restore the precious gift 6f hearing. One can once again listen to a variety of sounds and calls and through surrender render personal obedience. Physical listening has its counterpart in the spiritual realm, as does deafness. Often we do not hear. Sometimes this is a matter of choice, sometimes a matter of circumstance. Regardless, we fail to discern the words and movements of the Lord because the gift of discernment has not been activated. Hearing aids can be adjusted, even turned off. When God asks what is a~Julian of Norwich: Showings. pp. 195-196. ~Abandonment to Divine Providence, p. 88. J~Catherine of Siena, The Dialogues, trans, and introd. Suzanne Noffke, O.P., Classics of Western Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), p. 134. ~6Meister Eckhart, t~ans. Raymond B. Blakney INew York: Harper Torchbooks, 1941), p. 33. ~TLk 1:26-38. Principles of Discernment / 171 demanding or unpleasant we can unconsciously or blatantly turn from his sum-mons and fail to respond. Here we see that the discernment process has'high mutuality: the call and gift from God, thefree response of obedience and surrender from the human person. God respects our freedom too much to force a response. Gradually it becomes evident that discernment isnot just one gift among many: it is a crucial gift determining~destinies. Story of a Soul, the autobiography of St. Therese of Lisieux, is a candid revelation of a deep love relationship. Surrender and obedience were qualities that gave constant direction to the saint's life; these dispositions opened her to the gift of discernment. Therese realized that Christian living demanded not only recogni-tion of what is to be done but also the actual doing: As little birds learn to sing by listening to their parents, so children learn the science of the virtues, the sublime song of Divine Love from souls responsible for forming them.3~ Authentic discernment moves from listening to virtue. God uses many interme-diaries (parents, teachers, friends, "enemies") to both proclaim his message and model a response. In this environment the gift of~ discernment takes root. Therese's being was receptive to the stirrings of grace. The song of divine love was. heard, the r~esponding melody was also one of deep love. 8. Discernment happily blends faith and pragmatism: it searches out God's will in radical trust and does it. The People of God believes that it is led by the Spirit of the Lord. who fills the earth. Motivated by this faith, it labors to decipher authentic signs of God's presence and purpose in the happenings, needs, and desires in which this People has a part along with other men of our age. For faith throws a new light on everything, manifests God's design for man's total vocation, and thus directs the mind to solutions which are fully human)9 The will certainly seems to me to be united ir~ some way with the will of God; but it is by the effects of this prayer and the actions which follow it that the genuineness of the experience must be tested and there is no better crucible for doing so than this.'~ Every activity is related to good and evil twice over: by its performance and by its principle.4~ While teaching one day,~2 Jesus was interrupted when some men, carrying their paralyzed friend and lowering him through the roof, ingeniously got' ev-eryone's attention. The story is familiar; two things ~hould be noted for ohr pur-pose. These men had a deep faith in Jesus. They truly believed that this teacher had power and concern. Second!y,~their faith was active. They expended much energy JsStor), of a Soul." the Autobiography of St. Therese of Lisieux. trans. John Clarke, O.C.D. (Washing-ton, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1975), p. 113. 3gThe Documents of Vatican II, p. 209. 4°The Complete Works of St. Theresa of Jesus. ed. and trans. E. Allison Peers (London: Sheed & Ward, 1944), 2:238. 4~ The Simone Well Reader, p. 292. 42Lk 5:17-26. 172 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 and subtle creativity.in allowing t.heir faith,filled hearts to be nourished by divine healing. Both their trust and activity were rewarded in the cure of their friend. Discernment is both relational and functional; it is contemplative and active; it is faith-filled and pragmatic. The contemporary concern for integration is similar to the ever present call to discernment. A person of true discernment is integral. No false dichotomy here: action must be consequent to principle. Grounded in deep faith discernment pushes from below; drawn into active response discernment calls us forth to be agents of change. ¯ H20 is the chemical formula describing our precious gift of water. The blend-ing of these two elements produces a substance necessary for life. Hydrogen without oxygen fails to give us our refreshing liquid and vice versa. So in the spiritual domain: faith without action is dead; action without faith loses its ulti-mate significance. The water of the spiritual life is the grace of discernment; its basic elements are faith and deed. Depending upon the developmental phases of the community or individual, the w~ight will shift more towards faith, more towards action according to the level of maturity and the needs of the people. Here we realize that. spiritual laws are much more subtle than those of nature. In his journal entitled Markings, Dag Hammarskjold records the diverse movements of his inner life. We come to realize that this inter:national figure, busy with multiple responsibilities of the United Nations, had a very well developed and nurtured spiritual life. He speaks often of faith; he notes the importance of action. One passage will suffice: We act in faith--and miracles occur. In consequence, we are tempted to make the miracles the ground for our faith. The cost of such weakness is that we lose the confidence of faith, Faith is. faith creates, faith carries. It is not derived from, nor created, nor carried by anything except it~ own reality.4J The mixture is right; the roots of the tree blossom forth through the branches carrying and bringing much life. Discernment makes this possible. 9. Discernment looks to consequences for its authenticity: decisions are of God if ultimately leading to life and love. I am quite sure that no one will be deceived in this way for long if he has a gift for the discernment of spirits and if the Lord has given him true humility: such a person will judge the~e spirits by their fruits and their resolutions and their love.'~ To estimate the worth of a spiritual decision, we thus have three criteria at our disposal: the authenticity of our union with God, the unity of the different elements of our being, the cohesion which our action assumes in relation to ourselves, .to others and to the world,aS 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 need and respond with a generosity unspoiled by 4~Dag Hammarskjold, Markings (N~w York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. 1966), p. 145. ~The Complete Works of St. Theresa of Jesus, 1:378. 4SFrancois Roustang, S.J., Growth in the Spirit. trans. Kathleen Pond (New York: Sheed & Ward. 1966), p. 122. Principles of Discernment / 173 selfish intent. Anything you attempt to do without this love will certainly be imperfect, for it is sure to be marred by ulterior motives.46 Authentic Christian living results in action and explicit concern. Jesus draws our attention to the fig tree that is rich in foliage but devoid of fruit.47 For a hungry person the fruitless fig tree is worthless, we discern its worth in this case by whether or not it achieves its essential destiny. In our spiritual journey discernment is tested by the effects of our action and the concomitant affectivity. Does our activity give life, i.e., does it foster an increase of love, joy and peace? Or do our actions lead to death, i.e., apathy, sadness and anxiety? Discernment registers at the deepest level of our humanity--in our guts! We come to sequester that which nurtures from that which enervates. As in economic affairs so in spiritual matter we come to the bottom line: the financial world looks to profit/loss and the spiritual world looks to life/death. The stethoscope allows medical personnel to become attuned to the inner physiological movements of the patient. The trained ear can evaluate the proper functionings or pathological stirrings of vital organs. What the naked eye has no way of knowing, the ear with the aid of the stethoscope can easily ascertain, Discernment is a process of listening to the stirrings of the many different spirits constantly at work within the complexity of our lives. A good spiritual director intuitively senses how our life-style and motivational field is impacting on the inner terrain. If congruence is sensed, then God's word is tak~ing root and bearing proper fruit. If there is dissonance, then dialogue is in order to understand where it is coming from. This is no easy task. The movements of the spirit are mixed and often ambiguous. At times God's word will cause dissonance while the work of the evil spirit causes apparent harmony. These uncharted waters make us hesitate and call out for help from a good spiritual navigator! Sophie's Choice, a novel by Willim Styron, narrates the many decisions thata young woman had to make in very dire circumstances. The choice of letting either her son or daughter be sent to the gas chambers is symbolic of the horrendous decisions that confront the human spirit~ Throughout ttiis novel we witness people making choices and dealing with the powerful effects that shape their destinies. These effects basically fall on one or other side of the line: life or death. Sad to say, most of the decisions were not life-affirming~ Any good novel is essentially a study of discernment from an experiential point of view. Situations arise, choices are made, life or death follows. No one is exempt from dealing with the script of his or her own life. The process is universal. Grace is necessary if we are to discern wisely and act with courage. 10. Discernment leads to truth and, through truth, into freedom. The very word "truth" filled my heart with enthusiasm. The beauty of the word shone in my 46The Cloud of Unknowing and the Book of Privy Counseling. ed. William Johnston (New York: Doubleday Image Book, 1973). p. 64. "1"/4 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 eyes like a spiritual sun dispelling all shadows--those of ignorance, of error, of deceit, even those of iniquity, which is an error of measure and a lie. "Knowing the truth"--a pleonasm. With truth there is already knowing, as there is reality and being. To think the word "truth" is to assume a spiritual faculty, in which alone truth can be found. It is to assume the capacity of such a spiritual faculty to conform itself to being, to reality, in order within itself to produce the truth. It is also to raise the question of knowing whether such a faculty exists,as And ira will of iron represents one aspect of the liberated soul, flexibility and detachment of spirit represent a complementary aspect. To obey the inspirations of grace moment by moment, t9 adjust oneself readily to the promptings of a living Master, is a task which demands the glorious liberty that is the high prerogative of the sons of God.49 But at this moment I came upon myself. Previously I had existed, too, but everything had merely happened to me. Now I happened to myself~ Now I knew: I am myself now, now I exist. Previ~ausly I had been willed to do this and that; now I willed.~° God's w~)rd calls us to truth and freedom. Mary Magdalene wandered in the garden in deep dejection because her master and friend was dead.5~ Death appeared to have had the final say and such news caused enslavement to fear and depression. Then the experience of the Lord! The truth is exposed: sin and death are overcome by the cross and resurrection. God's fidelity and power are everlast-ing. The bond of sin is broken; the sting of death destroyed. With this truth came freedom, a freedom overflowing into joy. Mary sees and is able to act. This narrative helps us to see that the gift of discernment brings vision and responsibil-ity. In recognizing the risen Lord we contact reality; in being graced, we become gracious. Through the word of God we deepen our sense of identity and mission. This process allows us to find meaning which allows for motivation, enabling us to risk the use of time and energy in new and creative ways.'For Mary, Jesus was the truth that leads to freedom; for Mary, his person allowed proper discernment. Scientists use two instruments in their work of discovery and invention that are, by nature, tools of discernment, the microscope and telescope. With awe and wonder, we use the microscope to probe cellular structures revealing the deep patterns of life; with anticipation and excitement; we find the telescope pulling us into galaxies undreamt of by our ancestors. Gifted with such tools we come to know invisible worlds and incredible spaces. The spiritual realm is no less astound-ing. With the tools of subtle interior silence and perceptive wisdom we scan the vast plan of God's creative love. Such dispositions are crucial in coming to know truth and to exercise our freedom. Discernment falters amidst noises; it is blinded and cannot know what is pleasing to God. Discernment is seeing, a seeing that leads to freely doing the truth in love. Lavrans Bjorgulfson, speaking to his wife, says: "I know not. You are so strange--and all you have said tonight. 1 was afraid, Ragnfrid. Like enough 1 47Mk I 1:12-14. ~8Raissa Maritain, We Have Been Friends Together (New York: Green and Co., 1942), p. 80. agE. Herman. Creative Prayer (Cincinnati. Ohio: Forward Movement Publications, n.d.), p. 79. 50C. G. Jung, Memories. Dreams. Reflections. ed. by Aniela Jaffe and trans. Richard and Clara Winston (New York: Vintage Books, 1965). pp. 32-33. ~Jn 20:11-18. Principles of Discernment / 175 understand not the hearts of women."~2 In Sigrid Undset's Kristin Lavransdatter, we witness the tragedy of ignorance and the paralyzing power of fear that follows. Lavrans, a good man, does not understand the heart of his wife, Ragnfrid, nor that of his daughter, Kristin. Their loves were mysteries to him and, lacking proper discernment of the movements of their hearts, the tortuous pain of misunderstand-ing was bound to follow. The truth of the heart is a special knowledge all its own. Only when the heart is "informed" and well-known do the waters of freedom flow. Principles clash with the particulars of life. Helpful as they might be, life is lived in experience, not reflection. Yet we need to step back ever so ~ften for perspective and meaning. Hopefully this essay has fulfilled that task. My only hope is that these pages have realized the mandate oncegivEn by Emily Dickinson: Tell all the Truth but tell it slant-- Success in Circuit lies Too bright for our infirm Delight The Truth's superb surprise As Lightning to the Children eased With explanation kind The Truth must dazzle gradually Or every man be blind-- ~2Sigrid Undset, Kristin La,;ransdatter, I The Bridal Wreath, trans. Charles Archer and J. C. Scott (New York: Bantam Books; 1976); p. 232. Pope John Paul II to Jesuit Superiors, February 27, 1982i In fact, a special bond binds your Society to the Roman Pontiff, the Vicar of Christ oft earth . St. Ignatius and his companions., attached capital importance to this bond of love and service to the Roman Pontiff, so much so that they wished this "special vow" to be a characteristic: element of the Society . It is evident that here we are touching upon the essence of the lgnatian charism and upon that which lies at the very heart of your order. And it is to this that you must always always remain faithful. Prayer and Regression John O'Regan, O.M.I. Father O'Regan's "Unavailability as Poverty" appeared in the issue of July, 1981. His address is: 37 Woniora Road; P.O. Box 70; Hurstville, Australia 2220. i~|he~' wish to return to childhood is, in most instances, a regressive wish--a desire to abrogate adult responsibilities, and to return to a.state of dependence. But this wish may also have another aspect. To seek after the spontaneity and freedom of the secure child is a different matter and may, perhaps, be what is meant by the saying of Christ: 'Except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.' This is no regression to childishness, but rather, an advance to such security and freedom with our fellowmen that we can be whatever we are and allow them to be the same."~ Scripture scholars may disagree with psychiatrist Storr's understanding of Matthew 18, but the general drift of his meaning is clear and points to an under-standing of scriptural childness that may assist us in our understanding of prayer~ Of course it is quite possible to have regressive prayer and it shows up in many subtle ways. The prayer of the "good Lord" who is a distant, benign, undemanding and wholly pardoning God is surely a childish way of boxing God into a conve-nient category. The prayer that makes one feel good and somehow seals out the rough and tumble of life is also a childish thing, for it is based on the pleasure principle and we asgume it is good because it makes us feel good, An altogether inistaken notion of spiritual consolation can easily have us thinking that good prayer is always less than painful. There are many variants of regressive prayer that one may use: here we have a general look at the possibility of regression and the proper form of childness that makes prayer authentic. ~The Integrity of Personality. A. Storr (Pelican: Middlesex, 1970), pp, 60-61. Prayer and Regression / 177 Time and Timing Many state that prayer cannot be programmed--that it arises spontaneously and when we feel we need it, we need it. Much can be said in praise of this as long as it is properly understood. Prayer as a habitual state of dependence on God and prayer as the more privileged moments of closeness to God--irrelevant prayer as Father Green calls it2--must be distinguished. The religious whose life is fully given over to God will surely see the need for stated times for formal prayer. Such prayer is often called lower case prayer, while the lifelong attitude of being given over to God gets a capitalized P for Prayer. The reverse may equally be the case, but for the purpose of this article we will stay with this distinction. Thus the religious whose prayer is clear will be bound to find times for prayer and these times will surely manage to have their own rhythm. And we, being creatures ofhabit, will find that such rhythms will be predictable. So that some form of programming will assert itself. Some of us are morning people and like to start the day with a stretch of prolonged prayer. Others are night people and feel more at home with God at that time. Each one to one's own preference here. The point at issue is that the natural rhythm of life itself will surely dictate a style and timing of prayer that will not be left to chance, still less to mood. Thus to pray when one "feels like it" may lead us into strife if that is the only criterion for prayer. Ruysbroeck, the Flemish mystic, has the idea of the indrawing and outpouring of God's grace in us: the same imagery may be applied to prayer. We indraw in prayer and we outpour in prayer. This means the withdrawal-involvement rhythm, while not needing the regularity of a metronome, will have its own inner impera-tive and clock for each of us. The harmony between contemplation and apostolic love (Perfectae caritatis n. 5) is still a task for all of us and we must always work at it. It seems to at least imply that this task (and gift) cannot be left to whim or mood: such a standard would indeed be childish. This of course is not to say that some people may find a long weekend of prayer somehow manages to suit them: all of this is assuredly matter for honest discernment. The well. may run dry rather easily and the land may become parched. For those o~" us whose moods have a sudden~and broad swing, the well and land may easily run dry or parched almost unknown to us. The length of time and the actual time for prayer are important factors when we take our religious commitment seriously. Time Spent At times there may be a veritable fissure in our lives: what we declare we are and what we in fact are, are often light years apart. We may have a fundamental falseness running right through our lives and manage to survive some way or another. Thus we may spend long hours at prayer and not have its influence felt in 2Opening to God. T.H. Green (Ave. Maria Press, IN, 1977). 1711 / Review for Religious, March-ApriL 1982 our lives or at best allow its impact to be unhealthily muffled. Father Maurice Lefebre, killed in Boliva in the service of the poor, said that "because we live a lie, the truths we bring make no headway." This division between prayer and life--between prayer and Prayer--is surely a result of seeing prayer as a regressive retreat from the harsh and dreadful things that living for love of God and others really means. It is a womblike withdrawal that marks the overdone need for security from the cross that life is bound to hew for each of us who claims to be a follower of Christ. We all know of the piously impatient religious who brooks no interruption of his prayer, no matter what the demands may be from those he is serving. Fair enough: we should try to set up a little poustinia for our prayer-time but to see every interruption on this chosen retreat as an encroachment on our time "with God" is not an adult response, but a petulant reaction. Such a prayer has all the marks of childishness. One is here reminded of Jose Ortega y Gasser3 when he ponders on Commander Peary's day's polar trek with his team of dogs. After a hard day's mushing towards the north, he found at evening that he was much further south than when he started off in the morning! He has been working all day northwards on an immense iceberg being taken to the south by a strong ocean current. Hard times and long hours at prayer that are effectively isolated from life may give the impression of much progress. But the context of this kind of prayer must be taken into account lest we have a disconnected life of prayer, removed from the prayer of life. Like Peary's hard day's toil on the iceberg, much movement did not mean any progress at all -- even the reverse! The child is very much his or her own person with a great deal of emphasis on how he sees life. His childish optics give reality meaning that is not always geared to the givenness of reality itself. His childish templet thrown over reality effectively screens out some of its harsher aspects and amplifies its more congenial qualities so that much of his little life is essentially idiosyncratic. Much of his reality lacks consensual validation---effective checking out by way of feedback is too much bother for him. So that a prayer life that is removed too comfortably from the painful course of life is a childish kind of demiolife. As Augustine put it:: we may make many strides, but all outside the course. Dabar This prayer/life dichotomy is always with us. Only in Jesus were word and deed perfectly and positively corelated and all we do is strive to lessen the abyss that exists for us between what we profess we are and we in fact live. Herbert, the English poet, caught the idea beautifully when he wrote Doctrine and life--colors and light in one, When they combine and mingle, bring A strong regard and awe: JMeditations on Quixote, .I. OrtEga y Gasser (Norton: New York. 1961). p. 104. Prayer and Regression But speech alone doth vanish like a flaring thing, And in the ears, not conscience ring. Doctrine--what we believe and say we are, and life--how we actually incarnate this--must be together, like colors and light. Speech alone, outward show and mere protestation, means little and touches no one's conscience. So that while we try to bridge the gap between doctrine and life, we must be ever aware that it is all too easy to allow the gap to widen. Being Christlike, adopting the mind and heart of Christ will always be an imperative for us, and we must ever be ready to "live the truth in love" (Ep 4:15). This living, or "truthing"--- making word and deed more closely aligned in our lives, is an adult task. It is not for children--they must come a long way to be able to shoulder this project. In us adults, this cleavage between word and deed keeps us humbly on our toes and saves us from arrogance. It is only when we become unaware of this split-level living that we have cause for alarm. Filial Posture Prayer's paradigm has been given us once and for all by Jesus when in response to a disciple's request, "Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples," he said to them, "When you pray, say: Father." (Lk 11:i-4). It need hardly be said that the assumption is that the disciple was inspired when he saw Jesus praying "in a certain place." This anonymous disciple, seeing Jesus praying nowhere in particular, may be seen archetypically: we are that disciple and the nameless place may just as easily be seen in the same light, for we have to pray always and everywhere (see Ep 5:20; 6:18-19). Jesus is a model of prayer for us not just because he prayed regularly or had an unwavering prayer schedule. In Luke's gospel, he prays in practically every third chapter~ but in Mark's gospel, as scholars tell us, his early morning rising for prayer (i:35) is a typical day in the life of Jesus. But such visible expressions of prayer are but the observable expression of the inner disposition of a Man whose whole being is given over to God. He was not just driven to his knees as in the Mount of Olives (Lk 24:41-44) when the pressure was on: he prayed always and prayed formally on regular occasions. It was the inner oblation of his whole being that gave rise to these intense moments of close union with the Father. He was always addressing the Father and he here tells us that we must have the same filial posture when we come to pray. When we come before God for the more privileged moments of closeness to him (despite the apparent absence we may experience in these moments of apparent closeness) we must come with the filial gesture of "Abba," Father. This cordial posture must be the basis and ground of our prayer, giving it its tone, direction and content. In this word of daring intimacy, "Abba," we come to God with all the confidence of a child and the undeviating trust shown by God's Son. "Abba" Some writers have almost drooled over this term of piety and have given it a "11~1~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 sentimental flavoring that does no justice to the deep connotation it is meant to have. Terms like "Pappa," "Dad" and the like have been suggested. But the term refuses to bear this lightweight meaning. Apart from familiar uses of the word children use to address their fathers, and beneath it all, there is the deep sense of dependence and trust that gives rise to the closeness of the bond binding child and father. A father may engage in rough and tumble fun with his children, and the little ones delight in it. In the process they may get bumps and even scratches and there is not even a whimper. If these "wounds" were sustained in play with siblings, there would often be a far different reaction--tears and tantrums and the need for succor. But the child's utter trust in the goodness of the father is ,the rubric under which little aches and pains don't matter much, for the little one's unbounded trust makes all safe and sound in the affectionate ambience of a father's loving care. It is interesting to note that the child has been seen in different ways over the centuries. Time was when he was viewed as a miniature adult, and not a growing person in his own right. He was an adult-in-the-making, so what was good for the adult was good for the child. This gave rise to the assumption that the child saw, felt and judged as did the adult, so that education was getting him to sit still while adults instilled adult lore into his little head. Again the child was (and possibly still is) viewed as born in utter innocence and is tainted by contact with adults. This romantic anthropology seems to have a second inning in transactional analysis with its grossly overrated "child" state. This idyllic state seems at the mercy of interfering and imperious "adult" states. The truth of the child, like the truth of adults, is light and shade. Children are far from being only the cuddlesome angels of nappie commercials, and the endless and undiluted joy they appear to give to adoring mothers is plainly fiction. A child with its bundle of impulses with monumental rages can terrify even a hardy mother, who may easily want to vent her frustration on this demanding little tyrant who is so messily incontinent so much of the time. The incessant demands for neverending attention--the price of survival for the little one, makes life for the dedicated mother quite hectic for most of the time. For dependency is the hallmark of the little child, and his attachment to his mother for all his needs is close to being a symbiotic relationship. Apart from the child's survival, the groundwork for its wholesome sense of worth and goodness about himself is laid in this period of utter dependence: Not only the quantity of time and output of nurturing love but the very quality of this loving attention has so much to do with the kind of person the child will grow up to be. Childhood thus at this stage, is a state of absolute and almost one-way dependency, with little or no effective control or management on the child's part. Surely this image of the child has little to do with the childness that is meant to be our basic praying posture. The wish to return to childhood and to alleged lost innocence is surely a regressive wish and a desire to escape adult responsibilities in an effort to reestab-lish utter dependence. Such a desire, while not always on the level of full aware-ness, is fraught with secret urges to get back to a stage when all was well and no Prayer and Regression / 1111 pressm:es were experienced. In a deep symbolic manner, this is a wish to reenter the womb with its safe and secure amniotic protection. It is a yearning for a prepersonal stage where relationships do not need to be worked at and where needs were superabundantly granted in immediate supplies. It may be likened to a wish to become absolutely recipient to all desires and wants--to be the more or less content receiver of a bountiful providence. The kind of struggle that Paul says must attend our prayer, is anathema to this mentality and the perceptive notion of St. Thomas--that we are non solum provisi sed providentes, is rejected out of hand. St. Thomas was saying that God's fatherly care is so good that he invites us to share in his providential care: we are, he states, not just provided for; we are, in fact, coproviders. Father A certain style of diction in spirituality easily lends itself to this kind of regres-sive attitude. The "Good Lord" address-system to God fosters (wittingly or no) this kind of misplaced benevolence: he looks conveniently the other way from our aberrations and closes a grandfatherly eye when we sin. This is a God Who is not supposed to make demands and offers discipleship on the cheap. It is a God whose Son was not wholly in earnest when he laid down the cost of discipleship in totally inconvenient, uncompromising and uncomfortable terms (see Mk 8:31-38; 9:30-32; 10:32-45) and made stern demands of those who answered his call. Following him meant much more than the immediate disciples were ready to pay for they latched on to the "glory" aspect of the Messiah and refused to face the cross: be delivered, condemned, delivered to the Gentiles, mocked, spat upon, scourged, killed. Self-denial, taking up one's cross and follow-ing him are not exertions one expects of a child. They are adult commands and Christianity is for adults. While all of these directives come from a God who is love and who loves us without measure, he does not love us out of, but into suffering or pain or dilemmas. His attitude is a far cry from the "Good Lord" spirituality who gives all but expects nothing in return. Such an undisturbing deity makes for fascinating study of the adult who would want such a convenient Father. Other such possibly misleading ideas come from a notion of a God who holds us in the palm of his hand and whose massive palm cradles a sleeping babe. Such kitsch theology and art may serve a purpose and does have some merit', but it also fosters a kind of childishness that is not helpful in our faithgrowth. Isaiah 49 does speak of being held in his hand, and such an image has powerful evocations. But the infant in the palm goes a little much in the "childish" direction. Paul's "strain-ing forward" (Ph 3:13) and Ephesians' final admonition with its strongly martial tone (Ep 6:10-20) makes unrelenting effort the mark of the true disciple. "To that end keep alert with all perseverance," having on the breastplate, feet shod with the gospel of peace~ the helmet of salvation, the shield of faith, the sword of the Spirit. (Ep 4:14-18). This is the opposite direction to regression, in fact an honest progres-sion to a more mature humanity (Ep 4:13) that leaves behind the things of a child (1 Co 13:il). 1~1~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 Childhood: Recovery? In what sense then may we see childness as a faithful image or symbol for prayer? Surely the sense of dependency must enter as well as the sense of freedom. Anthony Storr (op. cir.) says that: "To seek after the spontaneity and freedom of the secure child is a different matter (from regression) and may perhaps be what is meant in the saying of Christ: 'Except ye be converted and become as little children ye shall not enter the kingdom of heaven' "(Mt 18:3). Storr sees the freedom and spontaneity of childhood as a decided advance rather than a stepping back. But this is hardly enough. The scriptural idea of freedom is, as are many scriptural themes, set in paradox. "Live as free men," we read in I P 2:16, "yet without using your freedom as a pretext for evil: but live as servants of God." If freedom is a keynote of Christianity, then we would have to understand it aright. In Christ and in Paul, freedom and bondage are reconciled. Jesus is seen as the self-emptying servant, whose utter abasement was the occasion and condition of his abiding freedom in unique exaltation. Kolb notes that Certain aspects of the personality may be arrested in their maturing process, with the result that a full and harmonious development never occurs. By.an anxiety-evading mechanism known as regression, the personality may suffer loss of some development already retained and reverting to a lower level of integration, adaption and expression. The retreat to a lower level of personality development is characterized by immature patterns of thought, emotion or behavior? It is not an uncommon happening that when a child gets a new baby brother or sister, and sees all attention of parents leave him for the new arrival he may begin to baby talk all over again and even wet the bed. He regresses to these earlier developmental stages so as to endeavor to recover the attention he had before the birth of his sibling. This is not necessarily pathological and in fact we all resort to nightly regres-sion when we sleep and dream. We let go of our hold on reality, bypass the world of logic, cause-and-effect, space and time and drift into a world of unrealistic ~antasy. This nightly spell of regression is a refreshing and even essential pause to enable us to face the morrow with a fair amount of poise.5 Most of the so-called mental illnesses include more or less severe regression but regression in itself is not an illness. When it goes beyond the level of efficiency and hinders effective relations with others, it is presumed to be unusual. The point of all this is to ask ourselves the question on prayer: is it possible to see ourselves in some regressed childish state when we say "Abba" to God? Before ~3od we may at times feel utterly useless and worthless. Our utter helplessness may even create the impression that once again we are back to a stage of childhood that 4Modern Clinical Psychology. Laurence C. Kolb (W.B. Saunders Company: Phil. 1977). p. 110. ~Personality Development and Psychopathology: Norman Cameron (Houghton Mifflin Co.: Boston. 1963), passim. Ch. 6. Prayer and Regression can in fact be childishness. God is a loving Father, to be sure, but an omnipotent God as well. Jesus is the Father's love made flesh for us, but he is Jesus just the same and our best efforts to "put him on" fall pitifully short. Faced with this kind of relationship, it is not possible to see a childish posture as somehow appealing. We may somehow cringe into littleness and close to nothingness and this is surely a childish regression. If we are to grow in moral reasoning and faith-living, then regression seems out. It is possible that our religious "life" lags painfully behind our general personality growth and thus makes for a stunted growth all round. Does it not seem better to see our religion as one for adults and only inchoa-tively for children? Is the Father-child paradigm used misleadingly, or is it a fact that we are simply engaged in child-talk when we come to pray? These are serious questions. I wish here to offer an understanding of childness that includes regres-sion but in a wholesome manner. Growing Regression In regression, the bonds with reality are loosened and we are in a world where logic and reason as we know them do not hold sway. Time and space evaporate, so we in fantasy flit from Disneyland to Shangri La and back again in a trice. Logical connections no longer bind and we are in a Walter Mitty world of make-believe. This kind of thinking and fantasying is called "primary process thinking" by Freud. One of his pupils, Ernst Kris6 followed up this idea and noted the intrusion of primary process thinking in art, humor and other creative mental functionings. Kris called this ego-controlled regression, or regression in the service of the ego, Kris noted that such regression has two phases: first, a rather passive phase when "the subjective experience is that of a flow of thought and images driving towards expression" (p. 59). He was careful to state that we must distinguish this from the second phase--creativity, "in which the ego controls the primary process and puts it into its service." This is clearly not the psychotic condition in which the ego is overwhelmed by the primary process. Prayer as Regression Kris says the inspirational and elaborational phases are part of the single process that comprises this adaptive regression. In the first stage the person is rather passive while in the second he takes charge and ideas are deliberately worked out and the secondary process involving logic and reality testing predominates. Applying this theory to the childness attitude in prayer, we may see that the beginning phase is one in which we are purely receivers. Prayer, as we know, is gift and all we do is to receive it. But this "regression" stage is but a preliminary one. It is a necessary but surely not sufficient cause for the posture of prayer. For prayer is never a nirvanic thing and demands effort on our part. Here is where phase two ~Psychoanalytic Explorations in Art. Ernst Kris (International Universities Press, N.Y. 1952). 184 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 emerges: having been passive to the grace of prayer we now respond more actively and strivingly. Paul stresses the earnestness and effortful response one must make in prayer when he states in I Th 3:10 that he "offers his prayer to God as earnestly as possible." The intensity of Paul's supplications are underlined to indicate that his is no mere quietistic slumbering in his prayers for those to whom he ministers. (see also 2 Th 5:!3; Rm 15:30-32; Col 4:12). Kecharitomen~ The posture of Mary as outlined in Luke offers a prime example of this two-fold phase in "regressive" prayer. When Mary has been given some clarifica-tion about her mission from the Angel, she said: "Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord" (Lk l:38)--"let it be to me according to your word." She had been given the title Kecharitornenb ("having-been-favored One") indicating that all she was and is now being done to her is grace or gift. Nothing she has done has merited this special visitation and unique grace. The humble virgin bethrothed to a man named Joseph was content to be quietly anonymous and was addressed by the messenger as one to whom all is done. She is purely receptive. She ratifies all this when she states that she is the handmaid (slave) of the Lord, She, the epitome of the Poor of Yahweh, was indeed a child, a helpless one, but God did mighty things to and through her. For all that mighty uplifting she calls herself a "slave." She is ready to receive the word and will of God. Yet that is not all. The way Luke would have us understand the response of Mary removes forever the almost inert caricature of a passive woman--an image the late Paul VI was at pains to dispel in Marialis Cultus~ From the receptive posture of receiving God's word, she is energetically and deliberately poised to do God's bidding. The "let it be to me according to your word" is an anemic rendition of the mind of Luke, It would be better to say that Mary's mind was that her most ardent desire was to seek and do his word. We often forget that the "with haste" of Lk 1:39 used to describe Mary's immediate departure to visit her kinswoman Elizabeth, may also be translated as "with deep pondering." In some way we may see Mary as harmonizing her contemplation and apostolic love (Perfectae Caritatis n. 5). Childness in Prayer This article sought to seek some insights on childhood as a prayer posture that would-,safeguard the maturity of the praying person. Some overenthusiastic preachers in speaking of the "Abba" with which Jewish children address their father, speak of an overdone sentimentalism that does little good for prayer. The notion of childhood evokes many elements in a child that are not in any way appealing. To suggest that we revert to a childhood innocence when we come to pray might seem to .foster an infantilism that inhibits true communion with God and does little to promote our prayer life. The threadbare "where we are shibboleth seems to lose any respectability it ever had as in such a case we have to go back to where we were to pray in this childish manner. The conception of Prayer and Regression / 185 "regression in the service of ego" seems to help here with its two-fold phasing of letting-go and becoming more passive or receptive and then responding in a practical manner by praying earnestly. This kind of "regression" in no way bespeaks immaturity or illness but is the kind of process used by artists in their creative work. Prayer is a work in which we are cocreators with God--we are allowed to share with him in his own inner life and in such a way we are cocreators with him. But this is not an effortless ex nihilo gesture; it is more often than pot hard work. Here is where we work as though it all depended on us. But all the while he is the one who inspired the beginning of the creative effort of prayer and it is due to his prevenient grace that we even dream of praying at all. Today God Spoke to Me Today God spoke to me. He didn't say it was God; I didn't see him; I heard him. It was God. I will never forget what he said-- It was something quietly enormous-- Wait till I tell you. Think of a powerful current on the sea floor. A burst of all-encompassing light shot beyond Jupiter. Music in which I was afloat and wholly dissolved. But that's only what it was like. I want to tell you just what he said. What he said was.was. Oh, the words. I can't remember them, none at all, Except one that swept up all the others in everlasting arms. It said everything. It was Love, Love, Love. Louis Hasley 3128 Wilder Drive South Bend, IN 46615 Currents in Spirituality Trends and Issues in a Secularizing World George Ashenbrenner, S.J. For the third year, Father Aschenbrenner offers a survey of the year in matters spiritual. He continues his apostolate on a national scale, while residing at the University of Scranton; Scranton, PA 18510. This article is the third in a series.1 The first, two years ago, looked at th6 spiritual profile of a decade in a highly summary way, while both last year's article and this present one, less so but still very summarily and selectively, each sketch the landscape of a single year. I owe much to the editor of this journal, for the opportunity of this assignment. The focused effort to observe, to reflect upon and to articulate some of the developing trends and issues in American spirituality has been instructive and rewarding. A word of thanks, too, to some of my readers. 1 have seriously benefited from reactions and suggestions I have received. When you think of it, the year past, even viewed coldly, has been startling. And yet, how fearfully accustomed, and how quickly forgetful, we become. We heard-- and saw--assassination attempts on President Reagan and Pope John Paul 11; the ecstasy, after 444 days of agony, of the freeing of the hostages from Tehran; the ongoing murders in Central America; the endless floods of refugees throughout the world, in Central America, Africa, Thailand; the persistent "small-scale wars," ~See Review for Religious, March, 1980, "Currents in Spirituality: The Past Decade." pp. 196-218; and March, 1981, "Trends of 1980: Some Themes and a Few Specifics," pp. 234-51. 186 Trends and Issues in a Secularizing Worm fully sufficient to keep alive the fear and plausibility of World War 111: the contin-ually escalating number of divorces and abortions across this land of ours; and those few, terrifying nuclear missile mistakes that accompanied the deliberate, quite unmistaken increase of nuclear armaments on the part of the major world powers, and minor powers, too. These events warn both author and reader of an article such as this that life is fragile, and that it may be viewed as very cheap; that evil is very real, and that we may easily get numb to its great, dark mystery; and that faith in God as a search for meaning and as love of the reality of our world is not easy--not easy at all. Obviously this article, following so closely upon two other similar surveys, does a good deal of repeating, presupposing, overlapping because spiritual trends and issues ordinarily do not simply appear and vanish within the narrow purview of a single year. Furthermore, the observing and the commenting remain distinctly the~ perspective and the insight of just one single person's opinion and point of view. And certainly, for this reader of the signs of the times, the four fundamental concerns of last year's article continue to be of paramount importance for all personal and communal spiritual life in the Church today: concern for the possibil-ity of a profound and faithful love, in the face of our culture's penchant for sensational, dramatic, immediate (and short-lived) sensual stimulation; concern for a more refined, a more other-centered, Christian personalism; concern for a shared companionship in faith; and concern for the paschal character and quality of faith, a paschal faith requisite to sustain, for the long haul, realistic, apostolic enthusi-asm.~ Indeed, because the cultural influences at work in these four areas of concern are still very strong, this present article will relate to them in many ways. In coming toward the close of these introductory comments, I would like to relate and distinguish two words of the title: trends and issues. A trend, here, speaks to a pattern of thought or behavior, the evidence for which would be sufficiently widespread to make it more than a local or exceptional occurrence. Whereas, an issue poses alternatives that, ur~less dodged, invite and eventually even demand a choice. And the choice, of course, often incarnates a whole series of values that relate to and reveal the meaning and un.derstanding of the trend. Often, it is through reflection on the trend that issues are discovered. The more valuable work, I feel, is to look as deeply as possible into current trends in American spirituality, with confidence that this exercise will be of assistance to us in facing issues that surface. Many of these issues, it seems to me, do and will continue to need further recognition and clarification before any firm resolution of them is either possible or suitable. Occasionally, however, an issue is so basic, and where one stands on it, where one shouM stand on it, becomes, even early on, so clear and so fundamental to Christian life, that I have not held back from making a clear judgment about the matter in question. And now to some trends and issues at hand. As 1 have traveled about, con- 2See ibid., March, 1981, pp. 235-243. 11111 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 suited, read, given workshops, courses, retreats and spiritual direction this past year, a very dominant, overarching preoccupation and theme, as I reflect on my own experience and listen to the experience of others, is secularity, secularization, secularism. Humfin spiritual life exists only in a world where ongoing pressures come at us, from every side, to secularize all our experience: of ourselves, of one another, and of all aspects of our world. Certainly, there is nothing new about this observation. The matter has been with us for a century, and more. And in very current forms, it has been an overt preoccupation of the religious community in this country at least since Vatican 11. But I believe that its strength as a trend in serious spiritual life continues very much to grow. And so, after looking about me, 1 have chosen to reflect here, at considerable length, on this tendency toward secularization. Following that, I will, more briefly, discuss a number of trends and issues which, whether implicitly or explicitly, whether as cause or consequence or corollary, relate to this central trend of secularization. In general, as I treat these other trends and issues, 1 will leave to the reflection of the reader their precise relationship to the general theme of secularization. Secularization It is not uncommon to divide reality into the sacred and the secular. And though this distinction and its significance can be of immense subtlety and compli-cation, with serious traps for the unwary, we can attempt a simple, hopefully usable description here of these two aspects of reality. John Coleman, using Huston Smith, makes the distinction for us: By the "secular" I mean "regions of life that man understands and controls, not necessarily completely but., for all practical purposes." These are regions toward which humans adopt a basically utilitarian attitude of mastery and control, making judgments on the basis of the technical adequacy of means to achieve stipulated goals) "Secular," then, speaks to a world of human domination, understanding and "control without, at least, any necessary reference to God or appeal to, or nourish-ment from, the experience of faith or of religious affections. Coleman then de-scribes the sacred: By the "sacred" I mean the area of mystery--the incomprehensible, indomitable, and seriously and supremely important; for "the sacred exceeds not only our control but our comprehen-sion." Our characteristic attitudes toward the sacred are all celebration, participatory contem-plation, and gratitude rather than mastery.4 "Sacred," then, points to the reverently mysterious, the awesomely (not problemat-ically) uncontrollable and, for articulated Christian belief, to a living, personal, experienced relationship with God in faith and hope and love. ~John A. Coleman, S.J., Theological Studies, December, 1978, "The Situation for Modern Faith," p. 604, citing Huston Smith, "Secularization and the Sacred,~ in Donald Cutler, ed., The Religious Situation 1969, Boston, 1969, p. 583. 4Coleman, Ioc. cit. citing Huston, art. cit., p. 587. Trends and Issues in a Secularizing Worm / 1119 The tendency toward secularization in a world of human believers is inevitable. It may foster religious faith, or it may corrupt it. The human heart, in this world, however lofty and transcendent its desires may be, is, ought to be, always histori-cal, definite, incarnational. However much travel and communication have mobil-ized us, limitations of space and time still shape our identity. These limits can seem very restrictive and confining. To live in America or Poland or lran as the twen-tieth century closes may seem a paltry destiny, when compared with the space address that may well be among the options of our twenty-third century descen-dants. But these temporal and spatial limits do identify us now and, rather than confining us, can call forth those precise creative responses which will bring about the reality of space living in the future. As human realities, faith and religion must be planted and grow within this world. And so, they, too, are susceptible to time/space limitations. Though faith will always call us beyond the world, its healthy development always lies in vigorous interaction with the world and its daily round of activities. Spirituality is never simply faith; but rather, it is faith's interaction with culture. It therefore grows and incarnates itself precisely through a secularizing process and trend. With its central focus on Jesus of Nazareth, and therefore on incarnation, Christian spirituality not only tolerates but embraces, for the sake of its own existence and development, this secularizing interaction with the culture of a specific people and time. And this secularizing process can positively foster faith, because the kingdom of his Father which Jesus preached and lived, for the people of first century Palestine, was meant to be lived in the world. In his parables, Jesus took illustra-tions from the culture of ordinary people, and he challenged everyone to a whole new way of imagining !ife in this universe. Granted that the fullness of his Father's kingdom beckoned beyond all this here and now, still the kingdom became an illusion if it did not take flesh in the daily circumstances of a specific culture. Over these twenty centuries, the continually limited situation of human faith has succes-sively called for multiple creative responses in the spirit-responses that lead to developments of both dogma and Christian life and that transform aspects of cultures, as each response incarnates, just a bit more, that loving reign of his Father which Jesus so desired for all. Though it is not always easy to interpret what is or is not providential, history is of course also dotted with instances of mistaken, or at least very tardy, responses of the Church to certain cultural challenges. Speaking summarily, then, we must be careful not to interpret the inevitable trend toward secularization as, of itself, destructive or weakening of Christian faith and witness. There is a healthy, permanent, indispensable secularity to Jesus' vision of loving and trusting his Father. However, having spoken to the essential character of its positive meaning and purpose, we must frankly notice that this inevitable secularizing tendency, when not carefully purified and focused, can be dangerously corrupting of the life of faith. And we are speaking here of no mere danger, it seems to me, but of an actual 190 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 trend of significant strength. The secularizing tendency of life in our world can and does easily, both consciously and unconsciously, settle into secularism, as an overall view of reality. John Coleman helps us again, this time quoting Guy Swanson: Secularism is the "denial that sacred order exists, the conviction that the universe is in no meaningful sense an expression or embodiment of purpose, the belief that it is unreasonable, other than anthropomorphically, to have toward the universe or its 'ground" a relationship mediated by communication or by any other interchange of meanings--to have toward it a relationship in any sense interpersonal."~ In this view, the world has become all, has become the ultimate: it has become God. Here we are entirely beyond any secularity, any inevitable and useful ten-dency toward secularization. As a vision of all reality, secularism has no time for faith, no basis for faith, much less for the intimacy of all true religion's interper-sonal relationship with God. In any explicit debate about secularism, of course, this corrupting danger for faith can be clearly percdived, and so the option to reject it is very available. But even at the theoretical, or notional level, rejection is not so easy, When the inroads are far advanced. However, it is at the operative level, the lived level, the level of heart and eyes and hands, where the danger is especially insidious, and much less detectable--in the midst of our busy, unreflecting life. The human heart, 1 believe, is essentially religious, with desires and Iongings for an interpersonal intimacy that far exceed anything and everything that is of this world. And often, by God's grace, a resentful, depressing frustration results when our hearts' settle for less than all that they are made for. But the sensationally sensual immediacy of much of the affective revolution occt~rring in our world can fixate our hearts and distract them from a reverential love of God.6 As the techno-logical explosion more and more shapes our world, and as we, often rightly, professionally train for work that is more secular, there can be less talk and reference to what should also be religious, even overtly religious. Letters, conversa-tions, sometimes, even, participation in religious ceremonies cease to involve any personal religious expression. 1 do not mean to imply here that religious faith is adequately, or even chiefly, measured by overt God-talk. But to keep the basic faith relationship of our hearts alive and growing, we surely need more than academic precision and culturally sophisticated reserve whenexpressing our faith. Faith, as a deep vision of heart, must be regularly expressed with appropriate personal devotion and affection. Otherwise, the vision and personal relationship of faith will, at minimum, lose any serious motivational force for our lives. It may even become something we are actually ashamed of. And when this happens, when our life of faith and devotion becomes entirely privatized, it can escape into a ~Coleman, art. cir. p. 605, citing Guy E. Swanson, "Modern Secularity," in Cutler, op. cir., pp. 803.-04. 6See Review for Religious, March, 1981, my article referred to above (footnote I), pp. 235-238. Trends and Issues in a Secularizing World childish, uncritical pietism, because so rarely shared with anyone. But there is a third, more ominous possibility, Our faith, from lack of expres-sion, from lack of embodiment, may actually die. This is obviously serious, ,and it is often final, when a person's love relationship with God in Jesus loses all power, all effect in furthering a Father's loving justice in our oppressively unjust world. And there is nothing theoretical in this very inadequate thumbnail sketch. Are there readers who have not watched, in themselves or in a friend, as faith weak-ened, the movement from a growing silence regarding faith to an indifference or even an aggressive criticism, until every expression of faith has become uncomfort-able and unwelcome? Then, faith no longer plays a role either in choosing or in evaluating action. In a rapidly secularizing world, the possibility is very real that faith may harden into a cold, polite, sophisticated, professional stance to life, with very little warmly affective religious expression. But we always need to talk about our beloved with others, to keep the love affair alive and growing and to let it influence others. Appropriate personal expressions of our faith will usually serve the Holy Spirit's inspiration of others. And therefore Christian communities of every kind, whether in religious life, or the family, or the parish, become increasingly more valuable as supports of shared religious vision and experience within a world tending more and more to secularism. How can we avoid the ultimate denial of Christian faith that secularism is? One terribly important means is surely that ongoing faith experience which knows, and seeks to experience God as beyond and greater than all the world. We who can so easily shrink God and conveniently fit him into our small universe have Jesus himself, in his experience of his Father, as our example in this matter. As he came to know Yahweh of the Old Testament in his own growing Abba experience, Jesus related most personally to a God whose life and love neither depended on nor were equal to this world, though (and here is the adventure of it) Jesus himself was that Father's inextricable involvement in love with this world. His commitment to a God so far transcending, though intimately involved within, this world is dramati-cally revealed in Jesus' Calvary experience of finding a resurrection of lif~ and love (his Father) in his very worldly, earthly dying. There was Someone worth dying for. And so, a cruelly absurd death is rendered beautiful to us and encouraging for our own life and death in this world, in what it reveals of a fullness and presence of life and love that is, in a sense, beyond any experience here and now, but yet which is finally available to all of us in Jesus, our Father's kept promise of intimate hope. But how do we experience, before death, the Father of Jesus in his transcend-ence beyond this world?For some, it is available in the dramatic, peak experience of crisis, when choice is both forced and offered between the consolation of a God greater than this world's absurdity and--nothing. In the critical moment when all of this world seems absurd and inimical, loving surrender to a God greater than all of this and whose love conquers all averts ultimate despair and destruction. People led through this experience learn to root their faith more deeply in God than ever before. Born again, they learn to see the world very seriously, and as much more 19~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 valuable and precious than ever before, because it is the stuff of a beloved Father's kingdom. Not all are called to, or allowed, such a crisis. But this fundamental and essential experience of God is not available only through crisis. It is, at base, a contemplative experience, a conversion experience, of God which is available to every believer. Nevertheless, as Paul describes in Rm 6: I-I I, and whether it occurs in a resounding'crisis or in a quiet, secret, outwardly ordinary transformation, it does involve sharing Jesus' death to this world, in order to live for God. There is a choice. And we do make it, whether suddenly or over time~ Either God, or the world~ In being attracted to the choice of God above the world, one then', of course, can find and live with God, and for God, within the world.7 And then. the apostle is in sight: the one who, having chosen God and not the world, is now available to be called by God, sent by God. to serve the world. God's world, the world God loved so much he sent his only Son. Through this experience, then, whether critically peak or not, but genuinely assimilated, we learn neither to take the world too seriously nor to take it lightly, either. A heart stretched by such an experience of God is simply not susceptible to an involvement in this world such that this world seems to be its own and our ultimate meaning and justification. For this is secularism pure and simple: no God, really: but if acknowledged at all. a God locked into this world. Jesus in all his serious concern for this world was never involved as though it were all he had. His identity center was never in this world, but in his Father: in his dear Father, whose love was greater than life itself/This was what kept Jesus energetically free in his life in this world, for this world. And so, too, for any disciple of Jesus. This experience of God beyond this world, which is meant to identify all of us in baptism, also prevents a seriously unchristian making light of this world. An excessive dichotomy between heaven and earth can lead people to long for the former and tend almost to view this earth as valueless, or, at best, as dangerous distraction. Such a lack of serious concern for this world can never result from an authentic experience of Jesus' Father, but only from a failure to appreciate another aspect of Jesus' Calvary experience--his own embodiment of his Father's love and care for us sinners in this, however sinful, immensely beautiful and precious world. Jesus is not someone irresponsibly unconcerned with this world, but neither is he someone so in love with this world that his freedom and ultimate identity are limited to it. Rather, his centeris always a dear Father who is a source of all his worldly love and life. This special religious experience, of having our identity in a God beyond the world while being actively involved in it, is no once-in-a-lifetime experience. It is 7To speak of God above the world is, of course, not to make a spatial delineation. Rather, it is to speak of a God whose being and love isfar greater than this world. In .In 12:3Z .Iesus's words remind us that ultimately we are attracted ("seduced~ is the Old Testament word) to this experience of God. it is not simply our own, Pelagian choice. 8Ps 63:3. Trends and Issues in a Secularizing Worm / 193 rather a lifetime process renewing, deepening, remembering and repeating our God-in-Christ experience. We must recognize the means God sends into our lives to renew this central, identifying experience. We must also find regular (daily?) habits that assist to renew this central focus of our heart's vision. Together with many service situations each day, liturgy, a healthy practice of mortification, and formal praye'r can be regular reminders of a Father whose love and care for all of us point far beyond'the transitory world to a fullness of Spirit still gifting a dying Son's trust. The final beauty for us and for our world, God himself, not only shatters any narrow secularism, but invests our proper apostolic concern and action in the world with a paschal force which labors joyfully that everything may belong to Christ, who shall hand all things over to the Father, that God may be all in all? Against this background of a strong secularizing tendency in our world today, I will now treat a number of other trends and issues on the American spiritual scene. Some of these concerns are more directly affected than others by our secularizing world; But all of them, in my judgment, are susceptible to its influence. Related Trends and Issues 1. A Sacred-Secular Split A division of our world into sacred and secular is one of the chief tendencies of secularization. Father Philip Murnibn recently told the Catholic Theological Society of America that "we are experiencing (a) disaffection from faith and Church and a separation of private Church life from public social life that is the main feature of secularization."~° Many call for a political theology which would heal this split and bring the gospel more to bear on the persons and institutions of our unjust, sinful world. Such a view rightly understands that to theologize and to practice spirituality without a passionate concern for the specifics of our world only exacerbates the sacred-secular split and that the approach is, in any event, unchristian. But conversely, any merely external activity, however much on behalf of justice, is equally insufficient to heal this split wherever it exists, whether within an individual person or within a community. Any attempt at healing which ne-glects the split at the level of interior experience risks a fragile solution that will quickly slip into an unrooted, social externalism. Evangelization must aim deeply and broadly: it must essay healing the split deep within the individual human heart even as it confronts the systemic injustice in our society. Liberation theology needs to be rooted in a liberation spirituality for the individual believer.~l The silence and solitude, the healing purification and conversion of the encounter with God cannot be bypassed. Segundo Galilea articulates it exactly: '~See I Co 15:22-8. ~01n Origins, August 13, 1981, "The Unmet Challenges of Vatican I1," p. 148. ~Segundo Galilea, ~Liberation as an Encounter with Politics and Contemplation," in Claude Geffr6 and Gustavo Guttii:rez, eds., The Mystical and Political Dimension of the Christian Faith, New York, 1974, p. 20. 194 / Review for Religious, March-ApriL 1982 Authentic Christian contemplation, passing through the desert, transforms contemplatives into prophets and heroes of commitment and militants into mystics. Christianity achieves the synthesis of the politician and the mystic, the militant and the contemplative, and abolishes the false antithesis between the religious-contemplatives and the militantly committed.~-' The ~bility to deal in faith with a wide range of inner affective experiences in our hearts makes possible finding God in every inner experience. In this way all human experience gradually becomes religious experience and culminates some-how in God, thus healing the split between experiences which are either overtly religious or secular. Without this inner integration in faith of a person's ongoing experience, political theology and spirituality are both Unroofed, just as the inner faith integration, if left to itself and without the outer word and action, becomes unreal and, finally impossible. A careful discernment of heart expressed in a passionate concern for individual evangelical issues and in a courageous loving presence to the.serious social issues of our world will avoid any unjust, unfaithful, secularistic dichotomy 2. Global Societal Values As we look to the future, there is an urgent summons to transcend overly personalistic, or, perhaps better, individualistic values. In the midst of a growing, democratic stress on the value of each human person, Vatican 11 took as one of its central foci the value of the person. In last year's survey, while affirming this value as utterly central to the Christian mystery, I nevertheless treated the danger to personalism of a subtle self-centeredness. And 1 suggested we might be ready for a more refined Christian personalism.~3 As we look forward now to the year 2.000, when global and societal problems will be, even more than today, an inescapable reality, our education and religious formation must be founded on global, on societal, values rather than on simply personalistic ones. Learning to cooperate, throughout both national and international society, will become, will have to become, more and more the truest meaning of personal fulfillment. And questions such as these will face us if we take such a global perspective: How do we take account of the millions of poor starving people in our world as we arbitrate labor disputes for excessively high salaries, whether we are talking of air-controllers or of baseball players? How do we overcome the natural tendency to get as much as one can for oneself, rather than to think of sharing with millions upon millions who have much less? We have a long way to go in this shift of value perspective before the year 2000. The heavily personalistic approach (really, it is better to say. individualistic) with its stress on self-fulfillment, will not convert and develop easily~to a global perspec-tive. The conversion involved here will be a new way of thinking. But it must go beyond that, to a change of heart. This global view will finally be shaped in experiences, carefully planned and reflected upon, as a complement to serious ~21bid. p. 28. ~3See art. cit. pp. 238-39. Trends and Issues in a Secularizing World / 195 study. True Christian personalism, of course, which is not narrowly individualistic, has no need to renounce any of itself, but will find a ready ally and field for service in global, societal concerns. Indeed, Christian personalism will become fully itself only in a communal, universal perspective which incarnates that justice, love and peace which mark the kingdom of Jesus' Father. For most of us, the shift we speak of calls for a change of heart that must run deep, get radical and become a revolution in our sensibility. 3. Unity and Diversity On April 8, 1979, at an academic convocation in Cambridge, MA, Karl Rahner, attempting a theological interpretation of Vatican 11, claimed that this Council "is.the Church's first official gelf-actualization as a world Church."~4 And Rahner claims that as the Church takes this revelation of her global nature ever more seriously, there will necessarily develop a pluralism of proclamations of the one Good News for many new cultures in Asia, Africa, and other places. How shall we find a true unity of faith within such a pluralism, and without again reducing it to a Western, Roman, overly centralized uniformity? Philip Murnion, in commenting on the unmet challenges of Vatican 11, feels that: "It is now the basic ecclesiology of Vatican 11 that confronts us as we grow weary and dissatisfied with so many superficial expressions of this ecclesiology."~5 As this basic ecclesiology of a "world Church" begins to be realized in practice, the pluralis~m which we know already can only radically increase. And as we are very well aware, such rapidly growing diversification often brings in its wake confounding disorientation, highstrung tension, and even hostile, angry charges of disloyalty. The problem is, and will be faith: to seek, and to learn to recognize unity of faith within diversity. That said, however, we cannot simply float with an almost infinite variety, as though diversity, in and of itself, were pure value. Finally, both human intelligibility and Christian faith require a unity. But a unity underneath and within diversity is not always easy to perceive, especially when diversification is rapid and recent. In a time of great diversity, before a clear, profound and pervasive unity has been found, we must learn to live both honestly and charitably, and with inevitable tensions. But even as we are patient, we must also continue to search for, we must ambition and work for, that unity which wiil help us understand how diversity is a blessin~ how it enriches and does not enervate. Simply to settle for a tolerance of plurality is not healthy pluralism. Whether it be a matter of the forms of ministry or orders, or of women priests, of religious garb, of doctrinal expression, or of forms of Church membership, we must continue to grow toward a "coherent consensus that can serve as a basis for common and confident Catholic identity."16 t4Karl Rahner, S.J., Theological Studies, December, 1979, "Towards a Fundamental Theological Interpretation of Vatican II~ (Leo J. O'Donovan, S.J., tr.). p. 717. ~Murnion, Origins, August 13, 1981, loc. cit. ~61bid. p. 147. ~TSee Jn 17:22. 196 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 As we search for a deeper coherence and discerningly reflect on much experimen-tation, we must reverence one another and the intricacies of ecclesial authority and development. And the best way we reverence both one another and the issues is by sharing our beliefs as best we can, from deep within our hearts, in the confident hope that a God who is so joyously one, precisely in terms of his own lovely diversity, will guide us together and will help us to see the extent and limit of diversity so that we may be one even as Father, Son, and Spirit are one.~7 When looked at institutionally, the area of ministry may especially seem to reveal a diversifying revolution that verges on the chaotic.J8 We speak of"ministry" now, where before we would have said "apostolate" or, simply~ "work." Many believers, especially tho~e professionally trained, now speak of having a ministry. This explosion of ministries has unhooked the word, and permanently so, I should think, from a past, unambiguous relationship to ordination. Now, in word also, as always before in fact, it is not only priests who minister. And this great multiplica-tion of ministries through the 1970's is no mere matter of a word. It signals an underlying ideological shift regarding ministry in the Church.J9 Various studies are trying to expose this ideological shift,' so that it can be seen for all that it may mean for the future, then discussed and carefully experimented with~ before any long-term decisions are made. This development in ministry is very complicated and needs to be studied from many perspectives. Perhaps serious consideration of the renewed ecclesiology of Vatican II will help us appreciate the theological source for much of the develol~men~t regarding ministry in the Church. For if the Church is seriously perceived as mystery and not just as institution, as community and not only, or even primarily, as hierarchy, as mission and not just as haven of the saved, then much of the ministerial multiplication becomes not only intelligible, but rich and welcome.20 Hopefully, then, such study will gradually expose the underlying issue here, so that we can choose our future in a diversity expressive of a profound, commonly shared faith-unity, rather than be trapped in a future diversity which is only the bitter sign of the disunity of unconcerned or warring parties. 4. Spiritual Witness of Religious Life Part of the explanation of the great expansion of,ministries is the urgent sense of the countless challenges with which the modern world confronts the Church. There are so many opportunities, and there is so much to be done. And we have not the leisure to wait; time is runnin.g out. This urgent sense of ministerial opportunity and challenge is affecting religious Congregations in at least two different ways. Some groups, over the past few years, ~sSandra M. Schneiders, I.H.M., The Way, October, 1980, "Theological Trends: Ministry and Ordina-tion I." p. 291. ~gSee John A. Coleman, S.J., America. March 28, 1981, "The Future of Ministry,~ pp. 243-49. 20Schneiders, art. cir., pp. 290-299. Trends and Issues in a Secularizing World / "197 have learned the futility of furious and relentless activity and are now involved in a serious, mature, realistic program of spiritual renewal. And they are doing this without any unrealistic or self-centered withdrawal from apostolic activity. But rather than trying to do as much as they "can," members are taking means and time to improve the prayerful quality of their presence and action in the world. Some leisure, to keep personal spirituality and humanity alive, is not seen as time wasted or selfishly spent, but is encouraged to provide the spiritual, faith motiva-tion requisite for a courageously loving and enlightened presence in the critical situations of our world. There are other religious congregations that would almost certainly not explicit-ly deny the necessity of serious spirituality to root serious ministry. But at the operative level, they at least seem so taken up with their difficult ministries that fatigue, often verging on burnout, prevents serious growth in prayer and in the inner resources for that personal love relationship with God which alone can motivate authentic apostolic service. In such Congregations, often there is not much specific encouragement from superiors and other leaders for prayer, for careful spiritual reflection, or for time taken for serious retreats alone with God. Members of these congregations sometimes look in vain for such encouragement, and they wonder at an apparent lack of appreciation for ongoing spiritual renewal. These groups are frequently grappling with the crucial issues of our age, and often with great courage. But they are also doing so, often, with an apparent lack of any realistic, informed and detailed concern for that inner life of the Spirit which keeps apostolic life prayerfully focused on Jesus' revelation of the kingdom of his Father. Within this significant, contemporary trend of religious congregations moving, not theoretically, but operatively, in two different directions, the issue is the subtle integration of the inner and outer, of prayer and ministry. I certainly have no wish or competence to sit in judgment on who attains this integration and who does not. Either of these two directions I have described can be exaggerated. Excessive care of spiritual practices can produce a "hothouse" pietism unconcerned with major issues in our world. And excessively busy activity in our secular world, without sufficient spiritual resources--and taking the time for this---can burn out faith and a prayerful spirit, in a way that does not further the kingdom. As we confront the fact that ministry is not a matter of staying as busy as possible, we can be led to the deeper~ more subtle issue of a careful concern for the quality of our action, a quality determined by the graced availability of our hearts and wills to God in all we do. We will struggle with the fluctuating mixture in our conscious-ness of grace and sinfulness, of consolation and desolation, and see how seriously related it all is to our service. An actively apostolic spirituality, never a matter of simple busy activity, is as much a matter of this inner quality of heart expressed in a special human faith presence as it is a matter of courageous activity and service for God's people. As this is more appreciated, the groups now moving in the two directions I've sketched above will not judge or belittle one another. No, the3/will increasingly cooperate in diverse ministries, through a shared and prayerful faith. A related trend here concerns the role and understanding of formal prayer in 1911 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 serious spiritual growth and in mature ministry. Obviously, mature ministry is impossible without mature prayer. Here, I do not simply equate formal prayer and mature prayer. By no means. The latter term stretches far beyond the practice of formal prayer, into a whole life of prayer, but only so, 1 suspect~ because of an appropriately regular practice of formal contemplation. Without regular, formal contemplation, a mature, prayerful life in ministry does not seem possible. Most serious believers 1 consult and listen to, in the course of many travels and work-shops, would readily agree with this. But many would then squirm a bit, perhaps, as they reflect on their own practice of formal prayer. 1 sense some widely divergent understandings today of"regular formal prayer." Without wanting to suggest any uniformity for all, let me pose some questions that may help us candidly face the issues in this trend. To practice regular formal prayer, does a person need a specific, daily expectation of length and time, rather than leaving it simply to daily spontaneity? Does this daily expectation or ideal then leave one open to days when God "excuses" one for various reasons (his), thus preventing the ideal from becoming ironclad and causing guilt? ls formal prayer always somehow a withdrawal from activity into the intimate solitude of our hearts to be with God there? Is praying formally once or twice a week what is usually meant by "regular" for a mature believer? Is it a different type and quality of prayer that one is capable of when one prays for thirty rather than ten minutes (without letting prayer become too, clock-oriented, like a prayerwheel)? Even in the case of quite advanced spiritual persons, is the disappearance of regular formal prayer, for at least thirty minutes, a bad, or at least very questionable, sign? I think individuals and whole religious communities must give serious thought to ques-tions such as these before they too hastily agree again, even in very beautiful words, how important formal prayer is for busy apostolic lives. I am not entirely sure what reaction these questions may call forth from various people. But 1 do sense a growing desire among religious and others to be more prayerful and to be more honest about the whole question of what it means to pray, and of the necessity of praying if one wishes to be prayerful. Many look for clear, specific guidance and encouragement in this matter. And this desire to grow in the practice of formal prayer, as a means toa life of prayer and service, is no monastic aberration for an active person. I sense we can be carefully more demanding of one i~nother in this area, after a period of vague, rather general guidelines which reacted to some past inflexible, detailed programs of prayer. How these questions about regular formal prayer can be answered by busy parents with small children at home must also be investigated. Though in general their spiritual ideal and program must be different from that of religious and priests, it is still not at all clear that they are incapable of some realistic, regular practice of formal prayer. Without proposing any seminary or convent style of spirituality for busy parents, we must not downplay either their desire for prayer, even at the cost of sacrifice, or the necessary interplay of protracted regular prayer and a developing life of prayer. But much more experimentation and study must be done on the adaptations appropriate to these people, but adaptations which will Trends and Issues in a Secularizing World / 199 not trivialize the often significant spiritual capabilities and desires of these lay men and women. 5. Religious Life: Life in Community Another trend seems also to be moving the understanding of religious life in two quite different directions. Is religious life now, and will it continue to be, life lived in community? Once again, more operatively than theoretically, there seem to be congregations that respond yes to the question, though they may understand "living in community" in various ways. And there are certainly congregations that, at least in the way they act, would clearly seem to be answering no to community life as a necessary element of religious life. Some congregations see the profound unity of the whole group as springing essentially from that shared experience of "being sent" which integrates religious authority, obedience and mission into one life and call.2~ This profound sense of community in mission is then incarnated in each and every person's living some-how as a member of a local community, with exceptions occurring only because of the necessities of geography or the nature of the particular ministry. In this way there is a clear incarnation of the belief that a member's heart is given over completely to God and his people, but it is given to God and it is given apostoli-cally precisely through belonging fully to this specific congregation. In this under-standing, apostolic community is not an end in itself, but it certainly is a continually essential means to ministry and service and thus is an essential aspect both of religious identity and of apostolic action. In other congregations, life in community seems experienced and desired and chosen as much less essential and pervasive in the group. And these groups are often composed of competently trained, talented, generous people. But their apos-tolic service seems more an individual concern. They are often found either living alone or, when they live together, they seem to do so more as a matter of conven-ience and/or compatibility than as anything required to express their identity. They often live the vows seriously and carefully, though where ministry is not an experience of "being sent," there would seem to be difficult questions about genuine religious obedience.22 Operatively, whatever the theoretieal aspects may be, there seems to be a different view of religious life here--something more akin to what we have traditionally understood a secular institute to be. The issue, it seems to me, is whether these two clearly differing developments are also contradictory and therefore unable to be seen as authentic variants of one reality: religious life as understood and lived in the Church. Will we continue to see religious life as life in community, which has seemed to be one of its essentials since :~See my article. "Prayer. Mission and Obedience." The Way Supplement, No. 37. Spring. 1980. pp. 50-57. 221bid., p. 55. 20{I / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 Pachomius organized eastern monasticism? It is important not to see community here as simply a geographical, local matter. That is an important meaning, but it is not the first nor is it the essential meaning of religious community life. Rather, vowed community life is fundamentally a profound union and communion in mission, a sense of the corporate, which indeed ordinarily is incarnated in a shared local setting of life and faith. Even now there can be tension and friction between groups of these two very diffe~'ent understandings of religious commitment. And I am not sure that the issue would not become serious enough in the future to cause a break and division in our understanding of religious life. A major superior recently told me that she expected, after the relative peace and the low number of departures during the end of the 70's, that the early 80's would bring more upheaval and departures--but all leading to something deep and good, something more gospel-based. So there may be radical purification again! And a sizable part of this upheaval may well concern the precisely com-munal dimension of our lives as religious. People may leave either because of a desire for more shared life and faith than a particular group has to offer, or conversely, they may leave because of a loss of aptitude or affection for celibate religious living after years of individualistic living and working. In congregations committed to a healthy, contemporary sense of communal living, there is another issue developing: a growing need for leadership on the local level. Groups, in and of themselves, still seem to find it very difficult to make decisions. Rather, they often haggle over each side of a question and often cannot move ahead. Beyond the role of a provincial superior and counselor, a local leader seems needed, a leader who listens, who values the communal and the collegial, but one who is able also compassionately to confront and to call individual members to be honest and prayerfully discerning about their lives, ministries and vocations. Leaders, then, are needed who are willing to accept the burden and service of authority. Without the encouragement of such a leader on the scene, honest, prayerful discernment about serious issues frequently does not happen. Provincials know how often they are confronted with the fair accompli in serious vocational decisions that have had very little consultation and prayerful discern-ment behind them. Mature, competent, professional adults, overly involved in our secular world, often need this careful but honest dialogue, if they are to stay in touch with, and live out, their_deepest, truest desires in faith. But as provincials know, it is very difficult to find men and women of this leadership caliber, mefi and women both suited and willing to be facilitators and leaders of local community life. And of course there remain in some members authoritarian hangovers which militate against this move toward better community living. Another angle of this issue concerns younger members' entering religious life. Because of the serious decrease of members in the past decade, there is generally a real age gap developing between members who are about ten years professed and novices or temporary professed, who now face the prospect of joining for life. Can such young persons live and serve with members decidedly older than themselves? Can they live without much peer support? This is an issue which, in its detail and Trends and Issues in a Secularizing World developments and implications, is quite different from anything most of us had to face years ago as we entered religious life. Today, the decision for final profession, for such young religious, will require a strong sense of vocation indeed, a sense of vocation that is rooted in a special inner psychic strength and in a quite different type of trust in God than was asked for in the past. This sense of vocation and commitment must, finally, be rooted deeply in the inner solitude of the individual heart, where God's call continues to resonate deeply and very lovingly. Now the motivation must run palpably deeper than any horizontal peer support. The com-munity dimension of our vocation, important as it is, can never replace the unique-ness of a vocation rooted in the experience of solitude alone with God in one's heart. In many ways, today we are being called back to this rooting of the religious vocation in God--in and through, of course, but also far beyond the personal fulfillment of shared support and affirmation. As Ps 73 says of him: "you are.the future that waits for me.ms All these different aspects of this trend concerning community and religious life finally issue forth with decided impact on the level of felt membership. Today, unless one is a major superior or has been chosen for some other special responsi-bility in the congregation, the felt sense of belonging may grow dim. So many religious today, whether it be their own responsibility or that of others, fe~l dis-connected, left out. In past times, th

Issue 35.5 of the Review for Religious, 1976. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Braiding, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1976 by REVlEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Book Editor Assistant Editor September 1976 I"olume 35 Number 5 Renewals,-new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELICtOUS; 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 REVIEW FOrt REL~CIOt~S; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. The Prayer of Jesus' Paul VI The Holy Father delivered the following address~ in the General Audience of June 14, 1976. The text is taken from Osservatore Roma/to, no. 26 (430), June 24, 1976. In these times, in these days so busy with human events, we are ~till mind- " ful of the spiritual cyclone that Pentecost was for the world and especially for the Church. We turn our thought again to prayer, to its legitimacy, its necessity, its procedure. We are well aware that the study of religions, the study of Christian prayer, the study of human psychology, have dwelt upon this expression of the human spirit. This almost places in a quandary one who, from such a great mass of experiences, customs and literature, wishes to draw a comprehensive and guiding idea,, sufficient for the modern secular man to classify in the summary of a mental index-card that which it is enough to know on this subject, now alien to his empirical and positive mentality. Accepting this imperious simplifying method, we conclude our reflection on prayer with two major propositions. These are: prayer, first, presupposes oft God's side an interest, a listening to the voices addressed to him by man, that is, a "Providence"; and, second, it presupposes on man's side, a hope, an expectation of being satisfied 'and helped. Thus we see that we have, it is true, constructed the essential pattern of prayer, that is, a possible con-versation betweeh man. and God, but that we still know very little, if any-thing, about the validity of this conversation. Is it an imaginary hypothesis, or does it really establish a relationship; a bilateral relationship, a bene-ficial relationship? Meaning of Prayer Well, among the greatest favors tha~t Christianity, faith, nay more Jesus 641 642 / Review lor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 Christ in person, conferred on mankind, there is precisely this real, valid, indispensable, very opportune prayer. Christ established communication between man and God; and this communication, which prevails over all our marvelous modern technical and social communications, has as its first, normal expression, prayer. Praying means communicating with God. Christ is himself this fundamental communication with the manifestation o[ himself. We enter the sanctuary of the exploration of who Christ is, the subject, today still, of tormented and, fundamentally, inevitably negative investigations for those who break with the Chalcedon definition of the one person of the Word, living in two natures, divinerand human (cf. Denz- Schoen. 301-302; Bouyer, Le Fils eternel, 469 ft.); the "bridge," as St. Catherine said (Dial 25, ft.). Jesus himself is the most luminous example of prayer, which, documented in the Gospel, becomes for us the highway to prayer and spiritual life. People who follow him and believe are still tireless students in this school. "By what way can I reach Christ and his message?", a well-known modern Catholic thinker asks himself; and he answers: "there is one very short and simple way: I look into the soul of Jesus as he prays, and 1 believe" (C. Adam, Cristo nostro Fratello, 37, see the fine chapter: "la preghiera di Gesh,"). And likewise the powerful synthesig on the "'Message de Jdsus,'" by L. De Grandmaison, Jdsus Christ, 1I, 347, ft.). Jesus Prays But, how and when did Jesus pray? Oh, how beautiful and instructive an excursion into the Gospel pages would be, picking like wildflowers the almost incidental references to the Lord's prayer! The" evangelist Mark writes: "And rising up long before daybreak, he (Jesus) went out (probably it was Peter's house, at Capharnaum, see V. 29), and departed into a desert place, and there he prayed" (1, 35). See, for example, after the multiplica-tion of the loaves: "And when he had dismissed the crowd, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. And when it was late, he Was alone" (Mt 14, 23). The Lord's prayers, about which the Gospel informs us, would deserve such long meditation. The famous one, for example, in chapter XI of Matthew, which lets us "enter the deepest secret of his life';: "At that time Jesus spoke and said. 'I praise thee Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou didst hide these things from the wise and prudent, and didst reveal them to little ones' " (verse 25). And what can we say of the prayer that concludes the talks of the Last Supper? "And raising his eyes to heaven, he said, 'Father, the hour has come!~-.Glorify thy Son, that thy Son may glorify thee', . " We recall it: it is the prayer for unity: "that all may be one" (Jn 17, 21-22). And then the triple groaning, heroic praye~" at Gethsemane, just before the passion: "Father, if thou art willing, remove this cup from me! Yet not my will but thine be done" (Lk 22, 42). The Prayer o] Jesus / 643 Union in prayer What a revelation not only of the drama of the Saviour's life, but also of the complexity and depth of human destinies, which even in their most tragic and mysterious expressions can be linked, by means of prayer, to the goodness, the mercy, the salvation deriving from God. Pray, then, like Jesus. Pray intensely. Pray today: always in the con-fident communion that prayer has established between us and the Father. Because it is to a father, it is to the Father that our humble voice is ad-dressed. So let it be, always. .O ¯ . . be silent now and try to listen within yourselves to an inner proclama-tion! The Lord is saying: "Be assured, i am with you" (see Mt 28:20). I am here. he is saying, because this is nay Body! This is the cup of my Blood!'. Yes, he is calling you, each one by. name! The mystery of the Eucharist is, above all, a personal mystery: personal, because of his divine presence-- the presence of Christ, the Word of God made man; personal, because the Eucharist is meant for each of us: for this reason Christ has become living bread, and js multiplied in the sacrament, in order 'to be accessible to every human being who receives him worthily, and who opens to him the door of faith and love. Paul VI to the Eucharistic Congress in L'Osservatore Romano, August 19, 1976, p. 3. Prayer Father Joris,, O.F.M. Father Joris (Heise) has taught scripture at St. Leonard's College in Dayton, has recently completed an as-yet-unpublished translation of the Gospel o] St. Matthew, and regularly contributes Old Testament exegesis to "Homily Helps" published by St. Anthony Messenger: he is presently on detached service in metropoliffan Washington. He usually signs his name simply Joris, in imitation of evangelical simplicity. Prayer is not a thing, not even an action. It is a quality, a dimension of living. Prayer is not the words you say. Jesus says for us togo into our cryptic place, and pray in the dark. He tells us not to say, "Lord, Lord!" He tells us not to go up front and rattle off repetitious or self-centered information. Prayerbooks--we will always have them. The Book of Psalms is the prayerbook, and it is a good one. It has in it litanies and moods and orchestras (Psalm 150); it stiggests common prayer and has some very pri-vate ones that are shared with the world. But no prayerbook is a prayer. Prayer is us, me, when I stop and my soul's face turns to God, when I really edge into desperation and need and joy. Prayer is that quality of openness that happens in response to discovery of newness, whether of pain, of belief, or sharing, or insight--into the real state of things. Prayer is that dimension when the person's bud blooms into a maturity beyond just coping, just drifting. For instance, when I talk with God (talking sort of to "myself) about how to treat some visitors who have complicated my life, really, and no particular answer is ready--that is prayer. When I find myself in a new territory where I do not have an answer at all, and I am waiting for onew that is prayer. When I discover someone else shares a shame or a wonder 644 Prayer / 645 or an interest--that discovering is itself a prayer. That edge-of-truth, like a blade that enters skin, is prayer. Established Prayer (the Pr,ayerbooks of Liturgy and Childhood) I received in the mail recen.tly a "prayerbook" that included many of my childhood prayers and songs: "The Way of the Cross," litanies, prayers to Mary, prayers to "Most Sweet Jesus." It served to remind me of the differences between Prayer and prayers, between the things, called "prayer" pointed to by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount and the kind of prayer he thought was right. ,, I think that children need "prayers." They need to hear litanies and to memorize grace at meals. They need to hear the repetitions of Mass prayers, the "Our Father," songs that will be sung over and over as "old favorites." I think that the.child who continues to live inside us throughout our lives--that child--needs to hear old and familiar "prayers" that give us a comfortable feeling, a sense of belonging here to the club of tradition. I think that this set of simple prayers, memorized, repetitious and senti-mental, needs to be accompanied by other non-verbal features: stained-glass windows, incense, vestments, an intonation of authority in the priestly voice, familiar tunes that are even mawkishly sentimental (like some Mary-hymns based on old romatic or drinking songs). But it is essential that we remember that these traditional prayers, as they are done, are done so as to cater to the child-in-us. If these are the only prayers, the only forms of prayer we_ take seriously, then we are not adults who have "turned and become a child again," but rather we are simply immature persons. We never grew up in the first place; we "fixated," to borrow a term from psychological jargon. Furthermore, a person who limits himself to forms that just come close to these, a person not creating his or her. own forms of prayer, will not enter the Kingdom of Heaven, as Jesus warned. They are receiving their reward already: the comfortedness they feel, the sense of belonging, the nurturedness, the peace. These are all qualities, of the drug world, too-- qualities condemned throughout th~ Gospels. It is a false world, a self-centered, self-rewarding form of prayer. It is valid for children and valid to begin with. It is not valid to stay there. It is the validity of blossom that needs the autumn fruit. Conversation ~vith God All of us talk tO ourselves. Sometimes we really talk, in deep conversa-tion, with other people. We reach a stage of conversation that is just more than usual, it means something more than the day-to-day exchange of com-ments. Prayer is that talking--that talking when we have no answer, when our need or, question or wonder or shame or comments form into words but 646 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 without any answer ready,set and cut. Not ~rambling;~on the contrary, the words focus some human matter that is definitely bothering us--or helping us grow. It is a moment when we gather "it" together and say it, not know-ing what the answer is or whether there is an answer. That is prayer--that "talking out" of what is inside of me. It has that quality of truth-which-is-more-than-facts, more than honesty even, because "honesty" is "saying something that is true." This "talking out" is the very creation of truth, the appearance of truth that is discovery of it. Real prayer is the birth of the words of truth--it has been carried inside of oneself, but has not yet come to light. Everybody who matures, 1 think, begins this conversation with God, this phrasing of problems (and expression of wonder and they are often the same thing. They certainly have the same quality.) ~ This kind of prayer-~-these prayers--occur during moments of pause and work, during habitual actions. (like driving, scrubbing, planning jobs, parties, schedules). They touch .significant elements of life as well as little things. (God is interested in it all, of course.) ~The solitary person as well as the very active person can discover to their surprise that they both do the very same thing on the inside--and perhaps spend as much time at it. Some people do it with deliberate advertence to God: the words are ad-dressed to "You, God." (Both the Tevye of Fiddler on the Roof and Jesus used such ~xpressions of direct address--they half, praise God for such good-ness and half-haggle with God about the possibilities of the future.) Other people are officially atheistic. The conversations of such people may, surprisingly, contain references to "God" in the form of cursing or "bad language"; and the surprise is that the very reference indicates the quality of prayer that it really is. I have. known an agnostic administrator-- a Dr. Bill Fitzgerald--whose determination 'and decisions were colored by some kind of "swearing": "By God, . . o " or "Jesus Christ! We're going to . " I studied his habit and noticed that he used these words only in connection with this quality of truth, this edging into a real commitment, this formulating of a communion of the office people so that .action would result. It was a "creation of truth"--and I found it funny that the little '~flag of prayer" was his reference to God. Still others do not connect their serious self-conversations with "re-ligion" or God. But they are prayer, they are real prayer. They are truth emerging and commitment forming. They are care rising into practice. They are small and large crises--listening then for what is the "right thing to do." They are a turning on of the radio to the "station" of God. The very turning on is the listening for God, the words that come to mind are the presence of fresh truth; the coining of the phrases the way the situation appears--is itself the belief in solution, the belief that some intrusion, from somewhere, from Someone, can measure up to the words uttered. Prayer / 647 Into the darkness the words go, and a response is expected that may be beyond words. Such a "conversation" is of God, is prayer. Beyond Conversation with God Years ago, some monk wrote a book titled something like Common Mystical 'Prayer. His point as I recall it, was tO ~.say that "mystical prayer" is far more common than we suppose. I'agree with that monk. Prayer is a quality, a facet, of the good person, it is a habit or even a limb of the good person.In the end, 1 cannot picture a good person without a "side" that is prayer--a side that faces God nor-mally, continuously. Bye that I mean that, besides successful actions~ deliberateness, care, kindness, strength and truth, there is in the good person an attention to what is, right, an internal facing forwards that is nothing else but prayer. By prayer here I mean that quality of a person which is his or her validity-and-awareness, an aliveness that is more than simply living. To be alive is a gift. It happens to every human being born and growing. But prayer is the "choice to live" and the many ramifications of that choice --all the nobility and pain and acceptance which mark the person who is doing more than "suffering through life." In other Words, prayer is as~integral to the good person as blood; as thought, as the electrical charge of all the body's cells. Prayer is the mystery gurrounding someone who is "different" when we cannot quite say why he is different. Prayer is the "reason" for our feeling that this person is mature and that ~person is not; prayer is the quality bf deliberateness that makes some mistakes "all right," but other mistakes are in fact ',guilty" ones. Prayer is the humble honesty of a person who retrieves a mistake or failure, and converts it into a more valuable event than could be thought. Prayer is the, power to make decisions on a basis deeper than the facts would indi, cate, on principles beyond the conflicting, shallower principles of popular debating. Prayer is the way we are--the whole root of, and then reflection on the meaning of the decisions that we make. Prayer is the connection we keep making .between the momentary commitments and the larger ripples--and ultimate results, those commitments which we make in our lifetime and in our world. Prayer is the belief that everything I do has meaning--and mean-ings-- touching far beyond what I can see. And so i need a constant help in doing them. God, of course, is the you for whom this attention, this search for principles, this belief in. value, is done. It is not that we pay attention to a mere "god of tradition" out there. The One we are paying attention to in this silent discourse is our God. We are paying attention to a Mystery, to a quiet source of answers, of truth, to someone who is beyond being just a 648 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 person or a "non-im-personal." T.his "wail" we address with our very self, so often without even any words at all, is God, the very meaning of a god. This is the value-giver, the ultimate, the Final One we "bounce against" at the end. Community, Shared Prayer ~ Without living these previous forms of mature, complex, and human prayer, community-shared prayer is meaningless. When 1 go into a church on Sunday, I find so often that there is so little effort to connect community prayer with these other elements of--- "elemental prayer." No effort at all, sometimes. Such liturgical prayers then are the empty voicing of words, gestures "and pomposity which Jesus condemned so strongly. They are magic and not prayer. They are sleight of mind and hand; but not prayer at all. We have Great Traditions. ' We have the Gathering of People regularly and the wonderful gift of ever-fresh Scripture. We have the hierarchical leadership of order and the application of talents, such as in music. We have all the right elements to comprise a living body of shared prayer. But there is almost a conspiracy to suppress quality, to reduce Prayer to prayers, to eliminate human communication as though that hinders Holy Communion, to supply clich6s instead of truth, to repeat anything that once proved good in the past, without realizing that such a repetition is to freeze and kill prayer that is alive. Shared prayer--contrary to all of this--is the sharing of elemental selves, the gathering of the greatness of our past and pouring it into our present as a "way of life." (Incidentally, I hate "relevancy" as simply a plastic imitation of real prayer. Prayer is relevant, but because it is prayer, not because its ideas or words or stories or music are "relevant:") Shared prayer is the spirit of wonder ("What really does it mean?") at the traditional Scripture. The repetition of the act of Jesus in giving, breaking, blessing the bread needs to be seen as a strange and puzzling thing, a curiosity that makes our minds wonder what is going on. The readings from the Bible become praye~ in the exploration of what it means--not the assurance of what that meaning is. The readings--when read with appro-priate emotional and intellectual sincerity--are themselves prayer and beget prayer. (How tragically often the Bible is read in church with an over-pious tone of voice. The finest reading I heard, 6ver, was a boy of ten who read Genesis, chapter one, as though he was just discovering the whole wonder of how creation has happened.) The community at prayer needs to receive everything as wonder and gift--the words from the past, the songs with their emotional impact, the presence of one another (and the mystery we are to one another). Hassling about ~clothing and place, about whether to stand or sit or kneel, about themes or style--these are distractions, inappropriate, even sinful--is alien Prayer / 649 to the quality which is the prayer of the gathering group of people. Every-thing there is to serve the prayer of the praying persons. The leader of such prayer, the priest, is the uncommon person whose heart and eyes, are as a sponge absorbing the people here. The leader uses the p~ast and the future to focus on these people; this is the nature of his prayer. The leader draws the sacred attention of. all together towards the mystery where all the threads meet, where all the human wants and joys hunger for fulfillment, where all the quests for meaning meet in their com-monness. The persons who enter the praying community on Sunday morning come not just for religious reasons, but for their entire lives and the meanings hunted and mysteries encountered in day-to-day events. They need religious jargon--but only insofar as it enlightens and judges the unfolding of daily ,work and play, of marriage responsibilities and growth, of jobs and adoles-cent children and political choices, andso on. The person of prayer is in the habit of scrutinizing all these things for what they mean--or might mean. In coming together, this person is searching with others to find where they, the ones who pray, are, what they have concluded, how they are cre-ating and finding true directions for living. The coming together becomes a matter of "spirit" when this quest and this finding is perceived in other persons who care and ripen like oneself. Without some "communion" between people in church (not just the leader to each individual, or the past .words to the present--but sideways, one to another), the whole gathering is only partial towards its fulfillment. The facets need to interlock, the side of true prayer in each good person to fit the sides of others. We need one another. We need the surprising side of each other, the edging into revelation that is faith that there is someone worthwhile--someone godly--there. We need to hear the admissions of guilt which this truthfulness so often is. We need to hear the shared needs, the outspoken hungers that are new discOveries. We need to feed one another with a handed-on Bread, the sharing of the single Cup. (This physical act, so rarely seen i~nd' practiced in our churches, is designed [by Jesus, no less] to represent and facilitate the.~ore significant one of hand-ing on our care, our truth towards one another, our passion, interest, in-volvement- our love.) Essential Prayer , Prayer is not a concept. It is even "inconceivable." Prayer is a "person facing." Prayer is a reflectiveness outward. Prayer is a tone of our life, a "how" we look at someth!ng. Prayer is a deliberate meaning towards choices--a meaning not in words, and certainly not a meaning that comes afterwards! Prayer is the meaning I sense for doing something, the ~ood I am when I am about to make a choice. Prayer erupts'into words (but is 650 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 not the words afterwards repeated); it is the developing process (like a photograph) from a need into making a decision that is the "good reason why," as well as the commitmeni itself involved in the ~lecision. Prayer, in other words, is never simply something we do or say: Prayer, rather, is the quality with which we do something, the rootedness and hope-fulness involved in living, our deliberate Jiving. It is the thinking and thank-ing which is our delicate dialogue with our environment and with ourselves. Prayer is facing God as God really is (and not just' some religious, narrow view of God, a religious jargon about God). Prayer presumes an ultimate of truth for some issue I face--and God provides it. Prayer means confronting' this new edge of truth for me, this searching for it and into it, and believing it when it is found. Prayer means involving the best we can do in what we do. Prayer, then, is an "always-freshness" about our lives, a constant ripen-ing towards fruition. Prayer is .my opening to discovery, my lifting up of myself towards exposure of some divine light, my waiting for whatever comes next from God. Prayer is placing myself to wait for what God wants. I ~m black, but comely, daughters o] Jerusalem . . . Do not regard me only as one dark With sin, for there is God-like beauty here. Too easily i'm seen to miss the mark Of all my high resolves, and it is clear That dark 1 will remain. With angry scorn My loved ones gave to me a servant's place Which I have filled, with patient merit borne, A Quie.t joy upon my dusky face, Because I am beloved. Like to the tents of Kedar on the glowing summer sand 1 take from each day's gift the light from whence My shadowed beauty shines. Simply to know I am beloved of Him--this is the band Of golden hope that gives my life its glow. Cornelius Askren P.O. Box 783 Bothell, WA 98011 Centering Prayer--Prayer of Quiet M. Basil, Pennington, O.C.S.O. Father Pennington is a frequent contributor to these pages. He resides at St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, MA 01562. We live in one of the greatest moments in the history of the human race. We live in the Christian era when God has sent his very own Son to bring to us the fullest revelation of his love and his inner life and to share that life with us. We live" in the time of a council, when there is a special out-pouring of grace and light to enable the People of God to achieve a deeper and fuller insight into the Revelation, And certainly the Second Vatican Council was one of the more significant of the twenty Councils which the Lord has granted to his Church in the course of her twenty centuries of life. But over and beyond this, we live in the time of a Second Pentecost. The humble-Vicar of Christ, Pope John XXIII, dared to call upon the Father to send forth the Holy Spirit in that same powerful and unique way in which he did at the birth of Christianity. The Spirit is abroad new, among us as never before, enlivening us and calling us forth to ever fuller life. In a very real sense this is absolutely necessary. For the human family has made such strides forward that .it is only by a greater infusion of the Spirit that the Christian can hope to respond to the many new challenges of our times in a faith-full way. One of the more significant changes for Western civilization, where Christianity largely resides, is the evolution from a conceptual era to an experiential one. Since Gutenberg's wood-_cuts first touched paper, the printed word and the ideas it disseminated more and more dominated Western culture. But in these last decades audiovisuals have led men to seek an ever fuller experience of reality. Technology's success has awakened desires.; its failure to satisfy awakens yet deeper desires. The spirit of man has come alive in a way that now transcends cultures. And the man of the West finds that the stirring within him is the same as that which stirs within 651 652 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 his brothers and sisters in what has sometimes been considered the "primi-tive" culture of the natives of many lands and in the more ancient cultures of the East. The Christian nurtured in this climate is no longer c6ntent to ruminate on truths of dogma to develop motivating thoughts and feelings in an effort towards union with God. He wants to ex.perience God as present, loving and caring. And the Lord seems to be very willing to respond to this aspira-tion which ultimately springs from his providential care of those whom his love has created. I think this is the significance of the widespread charismatic movement. Among those who open themselves to the Spirit of God, he seems to be granting, in what is commonly referred to as the "Baptism of the Spirit," that experience of himself which the classical mystical writers have called a grace of union. ,But not all are attracted to seek the experience of God in the enthusiastic and communicative climate which surrounds most charismatic groups. Many are drawn rather to seek this experience in the quiet of their own inner sanctuary where the Word dwells in his eternal stillness. There is ample evidence of this in the multitude of Christians who are flocking to the masters from the East to learn the methods of Zen and Yogic meditation, especially the Transcendental Meditation taught by Maharishi Mehesh Yogi. Turning to the East A ~:ouple of years ago I had occasion to visit a Ramakrishna temple in Chicago. Here I found twenty-four disciples gatheredaround a relatively young swami. The man was not unusually impressive, but he lived what he taught and spoke out of a~ personal inner experience. His disciples were an impressive group, twenty-two to fifty-five years of age. They expected an-other twenty-four disciples to join them that year and were inaugurating a subsidiary ahsram in nearby Michigan. All twenty-four disciples were from Christian backgrounds. When I asked them what had drawn them to the temple, they invariably answered that they were not able to find anyone in their own Church who was willing to lead them into the deeper ways of the spirit where they could truly experience God. Then they met the swami and he was willing to do that. They still worshipped Christ, but now, un-fortunately, as only one of many incarnations of God. In their search they have somewhat lost their way because there was no Christian master (or, to be: more faithful to our own traditional terminologyi no spiritual father) ready to guide them, sharing with them from the fullness of his own lived experience. Over the years in retreat work I have talked to many, many priests and religious. I have found that in most cases, though not all, in the .seminary or the novitiate they have been taught methods, of prayer and active meditation. In many cases they have also had a course in ascetical and Centering Prayer--Prayer of Quiet / 653 mystical theology in which they have heard about the various stages of con-templative prayer. Unfortunately they have usually been left with the im-pression or have been actually taught that it is a very rare sort of.thing, usually found only in enclosed monasteries. To seek it is presumptuous. One must plug away faithfully at active meditation and perhaps some day, in the far distant future, after long years of fidelity, God might give one this precious but rare gift of contemplative prayer. In no instance have 4 yet found anyone who had been taught in the seminary or the novitiate a simple method for entering into passive meditation or contemplative prayer. This is sad. Especially in face of the fact that St. Teresa of Avila.had taught that those who were faithful to prayer' could expect in a relatively short time--six months or a year--to be led into a prayer of quiet. Dom Marmion believed that by the end of his novitiate, a religious was usually ready for contemplative prayer. One of the signs that St. John of the Cross pointed to as an indication that one is ready for contemplative prayer is that active meditation no longer works--an experience very many priests and religious do have. Faced with this experience, and ~vith no one showing them how to move on to contemplative prayer, many give up regular prayer. A faithful few plug on, sometimes for years, in making painful meditations that are any-thing but refreshing. Given this state of affairs, it is not surprising that Christians seeking help to enter into the quiet, inner experience of God find little guidance among their priests and religious. If a person desiring, to seek the experience of God. in deep meditation does go to one of the many swamis found in the West today, he or she will be quickly taught a simple method to pursue this goal. "Sit this way. Hold your hands this way. Breathe thus. Say this word in this manner. Do this twice a day for so many minutes." And if the rec'ipient does this, he usually has very good experiences. We can see this~ practice, up to a point, as a good thing. For often, whether the person kno~ws his name or not, he or she is in fact seeking God. And in carrying through this exercise, in devoting mind and heart to,this pursuit, he is actually engaging in a very pure form of prayer. The sad part of it is that his pursuit and his experience, probably of God's very real presence in him in his creative love, is not informed by faith. Sadder still is the fact that, in .not a few cases, grateful recipients, so helped by the swami's meditation-technique, begin to accept from him as well his philoso-phy of life, thus abandoning their Christian heritage. Some of the greater swapnis, such as Swami Satchidinanda and Maharishi Mehesh Yogi, certainly advise against this. But such advice can fall on ears deafened by an almost cultic veneration for a truly' selfless master. These good masters from the East are truly a challenge, whether they intend to be or not, and in more ways than one. For one thing they cer-. tainly remind us that the effective teacher, at least in the area of life-giving 654 / Review lor Religious, VoluJne 35, 1976/5 teaching, must be one who lives what he teaches. For a minister to try to teach the Christian Gospel with its strong bias for the poor' and its way of daily abnegation ("If you would be my disciple, take up your cross daily and come follow me.") and still to be busy pursuing the same pleasures and immediate goals as the wc~rldly'materialist is to condemn himself to a fruit-less ministry. We must teach more by what we are and how we live than by what we say, if we want our hearers to take us seriously. The swamis' response to seekers makes us ask ourselves, are there not in our own Christian tradition some simple methods, some meditation techniques, which we can use to enter into quiet, contemplative union with God? Before responding, I would like .to say, we Christians should not hesitate to make use of the good techniques that our wise friends from the East are offering, if. we find them,' in fact, helpful. As St: Paul said: "All things are yours, and you are Christ's and Christ is God's." Many Chris-tians, in fact, who take their prayer life seriously have been greatly helped by Yoga, Zen, TM and similar practices, especially where they have been initiated by reliable teachers and have a solidly developed Christian faith to giv~ inner form and meaning to the resulting experiences. But to return to our question: Do we have, in our Christian tradition, simple methods or techniques for entering into contemplative prayer? Yes, we certainly do. The Use of "Technique" First of all, "techniques," methods, are certainly not foreign to the prayer experience of the average Catholic. The rosary is a "technique"-- and certainly not one to be readily discounted. It has led many, many Chris-tians to deep contemplative union with God. The Stations of the Cross are another "techn!que." So are the Ignatian Exercises, which are directly ordered to contemplation. Well enough known in the West today, at least by name and reputation, is the ancient Eastern Christian technique of the "Jesus Prayer." We have, in fact, many Christian techniques. The use of a technique or method in prayer to help us come into con-tact with God present to us, in us, and to bring our whole selves into quiet-ness to enjoy that presence and be refreshed by it, is certainly not, in itself, Pelagian. Mystical theologians have not.hesitated to speak of an "acquired contemplation" (in distinction to "infused contemplation"), a state or experience which the contemplator has taken some part in bringing into being. All prayer is a response to God and begins with him. To deny this would be Pelagian. God's grace is not operative only in infused contemplation. When the little child lisps his "Now I lay me down to sleep . . ." if there is any movementi of faith and love there, any true prayer, grace is present and operative. Every prayer is a response to a movement of grace, whether we are explicitly aware of it or not, whether we conscious!y experience the Centering Prayer--Prayer of Quiet/ 655 movement, the call, the attraction, or not. God present in us, present all around us, is calling us. to respond to his presence, his love, his caring. We are missing reality if we think otherwise. When we use a technique, a method, to pray, we are doing so because God?s grace, to which we are freely responding, is efficaciously, inviting us to do this. That we have been taught the technique and have responded to the teaching is all his grace at work, inviting us, leading us, guiding us to have a deeper experience of our union with him. That iswhy it takes a certain courage---or foolhardiness--to learn such a technique. For it is, indeed, an invitation from the Lord to enter and abide within. The Prayer of the Cloud Yes, we do have in our Christian tradition simple methods~ "tech-niques," for entering into contemplative prayer, a. prayer of quiet. I would like to share one such method with you, drawn from a little book called The Cloud of Unknowing. This is indeed a.popular book in our time.1 At the time of our author's writing there was a vibrant spirituality alive and widespread in ~the Christian West. The swell had begun with the great Gregorian reform in the eleventh century and the ensuing monastic revival. This was followed by the enthusiasm of the sons of St. Francis and the other mendicant orders. All, even the poorest, the most illiterate, the vil-lainous, were invited to intimacy with the Lord. The fourteenth century was a high tide for the Christian spirit in the West. Unfortunately it would soon enough ebb. With the Reformation, the monastic centers of spiritual life would be swept away by the new currents that flowed through much of Europe. And on the rest of the continent the prosecution of Quietists and Illuminists by an overly zealous and defensive Inquisition would send contemplation to hide fearfully in the corners of a few convents and monasteries. A great movement of the Christian spirit flowed away with the undercurrent, only to surface and return under the impulsion of the mighty .winds of a Second Pentecost, These winds blow across the face of the whole earth. They certainly are not contained by the Church. But the Church, the Christian commuhity, cannot afford to be slow to respond to them: True renewal must begin with each .Christian, respond-ing to the call of the Spirit within, to the call to the center where God dwells, waiting to refresh, revitalize, renew. There is a simple method of entering into contemplative prayer which has been aptly called "centering prayer." The name is inspired by Thomas 1At p.resent the book is available in 'four different paperback editions. The one edited by William Johnston and published by D~ubleday is the best. The author is an un-known English Catholic writer of the fourteenth century. He could hardly have put his name to the work, for all that it teaches belongs to the common heritage of the Christian c~mmunity. 656 / Review Ior, Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 Merton. In his writings he stressed that the only way to come into contact with the living God is to go to'one's center and from there pass into God. This is the way the author of The Cloud of Unknowing would lead us, although his imagery is somewhat different. The simple method he teaches really belongs to the. common heritage of man. I remember on one occasion describing it to a teacher of Tran-scendental Meditation. He repli,ed, "Why, that's TMo" I could not agree with him. There are very significant differences, but perhaps it takes faith really to perceive them. I can also remember, when I was in Greece a. couple of years ago, finding a Greek translation of The Cloud. The late Orthodox Archbishop of Corinth had written the Introduction. In it he stated that this was the work of an unknown fourteenth-century, English, Orthodox writer. He was certain it belonged to his own Christian tradition. If one reads The Cloud of Unknowing on his own, as perhaps many of my readers have, he is not apt effectively to draw from the text the simple technique the author offers. This is not to be wondered at. One would have the same experience reading books on the "Jesus Prayer." As the spiritual fathers on Mount Athos pointed out to me, no spiritual father would seek to teach this method of prayer by a book~ It is meant to be handed on per-sonally, through a tradition. The writings are but to support the learner in his experience and help him place the practice in the full context of his life. This, too, I believe is the case with The Cloud o] Unknowing. Simply read-ing it will not usually teach the method. And so let me try to spell out the "technique" of The Cloud of Un-knowing quite concretely, adding some practical advice and explanation. To do this I would like to sum up the method in three rules. Posture and Relaxation But "first let me say a word about posture. Some wonderful ways of sitting have come to us from the East. They are ideal for meditation. But unless we are 10ng practiced, and in most cases, have gotten an early start, our muscles and bones do not too readily adapt° themse.lves to these pos-tures. I think for most of us Westerners the best posture for prayer is to be comfortably settled in a good chair--one that gives firm support to the back, but at the same time is not too hard or stiff. As the author of The Cloud says, "Simply sit relaxed and quiet . " Most imprrtant, the body should be relaxed. When our Lord said, "Come to me all you who labor and are heavily burdened, and I will refresh you," he meant the whole man, body, soul and spirit--not just the spirit. But the body is not apt to be refreshed if we begin the prayer physically tense. Settling down in our chair ahd "letting go," letting the chair fully support the body, is sacramental of what is to take place in the prayer. In centering prayer we settle in God, "let ourselves go," let him fully support us, rest us, refresh us. Centering Prayer--Prayer o] Quiet / 657 Posture and relaxation-are important. It is good, too, if we close our eyes during this prayer.: The more we can gently eliminate outside distur-bances the better. That is why it is good, if possible, to make this prayer in a quiet place, a place apart, though this is not essential. More important is it that it be a situation in which we will not be disturbed in the course of the meditation. Quiet will usually be found helpful. Psychologically, also, it is experienced as helpful if one has a sort of special place for meditation--a place apart, even though "apart" may be only a corner of a room where there is a presence sacramentalized in Bible, icon or sacred image, and the going apart simply involves swinging around in our chair from desk to shrine. The physical set-up and the bodily movement itself reinforce the sense of passing now from the frenetic activities of the day to a deeper state of prayerful rest and divine refreshment. Three Rules the But now let us get on with the "rules" for entering into centering prayer, prayer of quiet, contemplation. Rule One: At the beginizing o] the prayer we take a minute or two to quiet down and then move in ]aith to God dwelling .in our depths; attd at the end oI the' prayer we take several minutes to come out, mentally praying the "Our Father." Once we are settled down in our chair and relaxed, we enter into a short period of silence, Sixty seconds can initially seem like a long time when we are doing nothing and are used to being constantly on the go. Better to take a little more time rather than less. Then we move in faith to God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, dwelling in creative love in the depths of our being. This is the whole essence of the prayer. "Center all your attention and desire on him and let this be the sole concern of your mind and heart" (The Cloud oI Unknowing, c.3). Faith moving towards its Object is hope and love--this is the whole of the theological, the Christian life. All the rest of the method is simply a means to enable us to abide quietly in this center, and to allow our whole being to share in this refreshing contact with its Source. Faith is fundamental for this prayer, as for any prayer. We will have no desire to enter into union and communion, to pray, if we do not have at least some glimmer in faith of the all-Lovable, the all,Desirable. But it is more especially a "wonderfUl work of love," a °response to him who is known, by living faith. -"It is true, some techniques like Zen call for keeping the eyes open. But these are usually effortful techniques. This method, however, is effortless; it is a letting go. "It is simply a spontaneous desire, springing from God . . ." (The Cloud, c.4). 658 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 The Inner Presence When God. makes things, he does not just put them together and toss them out there, to let them fly along in his creation. "One is good--God.'':~ And One'is true, and beautiful, and all ':being--our God. And everything else is only insofar as it here and now actively participates in him and shares his :being. At every moment God is intimately present to each and every particle of his creation, sharing with it, in creative love, his very own being. And so, if we really see this paper, we do not just see the paper, but we see God bringing it into being and sustaining it in being. We perceive the divine presence. If this i~ true of all the other elements, how much more true is it for the greatest of God's creation: man, made to his own image and likeness. When we go to our depths we find not only the image of God, but God himself, bringing us forth in his creative love. We go to our center and pass from there into the present God. Yet there is still something even more wonderful here for the Christian. We have been baptized into Christ. We are in some very real, though mysteri-ous way, Christ, the Son of God, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity. "I live, now not I, but Christ lives in me." As we go to the depths, we realize in faith our identity with Christ the Son. Even now, .with him and in him, we comeforth from the Father in eternal generation, and return to the Father in that perfect Love which is the Holy Spirit. What prayer! This is really beyond adequate conception. Yet our faith°tells us it is so. It is part of that whole reality that revelation has opened up to us. And it is for us to take possession of it. We have been made sharers in the divine nature by baptism. We have been given the gi]t of the Holy Spirit. We have but to enter into what is ours, what we truly are. And that is what we do in this prayer. In a movement of faith that is hope and love, we go to the center and turn ourselves bver to God in a simple being there, in a presence that is perfect and complete .adoration, response, love, an "Amen" to that movement that we are in the Son to the Father. This is what St. Paul was talking about when he said, "We do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit himself prays for us . " Coming Out 'of Contemplation In this prayer we go .very deep into ourselves. Some speak of a fourth state of consciousness, a state beyond waking, sleeping or dreaming states. Tests have shown that meditators do achieve a state of rest which is deeper than that attained in sleep. We do not want to come out of contemplative prayer in a jarring way. Rather we want to bring its deep peace into the whole of our life. That is why it is prescribed that we take several minutes :~See Mt 19, 17. Centering Prayer Prayer o] Quiet / 659 ~zoming out, moving from the level ot~ deep, self, forgetful contemplation to silent awareness and then a conscious interior prayer, before moving further into full activity. When the time we have determined to pray is over, we stop using the prayer word we have chosen," savor the silence, the Presence, for a bit, and then begin interiorly to pray the "Our Father." I suggest saying the "Our Father." It is a perfect prayer, taught us by the Lord himself. We gently let the successive phrases come to mind. We savor' them, enter into them. What matter if in fact it takes a good while. It is a beginning of letting our contemplative prayer flow out into the rest of our live~. A Valuable Asceticism I strongly recommend two periods of contemplative prayer in the course of a day. It introduces into our day a good rhythm: a period of deep rest and refreshment in the Lord flowing out into eight or ten hours of fruitful activity, and then anotho: period of renewal to carry us through (what is for almost everyone today) a long evening of activity. This is certainly much better than trying to base sixteen hours of activity on the morning prayer. Twenty minutes seems to be a good period to start with. Less tharl this hardly gives, one a chance to get fully into the prayer and be wholly re-freshed. Some will feel themselves drawn to extend the period to twenty-five or thirty minutes or perhaps thirty-five. On a day of retreat or when we are sick in bed, and our activity is curtailed, we can easily add more periods of .contemplative prayer. This might be better than prolonging individual periods. Those who are generally living a contemplative life'may find somewhat longer periods helpful. For most of. us, the real asceticism of this form ot~ prayer comes in scheduling into*our daily life two periods for it. Once we are going full steam, it is difficult to stop, drop everything, go apart and simply be to the Lord. And yet there is a tremendous value ,here. All of us theoretically subscribe to the theme, "Unless the Lord build the house, in vain the masons toil." But in practice most of us work as though God could not possibly get things done if we did not do them for him.The fact is there is nothing that we :are doing that God could not raise up a stone in the field to do for him. The realization of this puts us in our true place. Though, lest we do get too defeated by such a realization, let me hastento add that there is one thing that we alone can give God-- our personal love. The very God of heaven and earth wants, and needs because he wants, our personal love. And if, while we pray, someone 'has to wait at our door, for ten or fifteen minutes, he will probably learn a lot about prayer while he waits-- certainly more than if he were inside listening to us talk about prayer. 4See below, under Rule 2. 660 / Review Ior Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 Actions speak louder than words. Those around us will not fail to notice, even though we might prefer they would not, when we begin to give prayer prime time in our busy lives. Rule Two: Alter resting ]or a bit ~it~ the center in ]aith-lull love, we take up a single simple word that expresses this response attd begiu to let it repeat itsel] within. As the author of The Cloud puts it: "If you want to gather all your desire into one simple word that the mind can easily retain, choose a short word rather than a long one. A one-syllable word such as 'God'. or 'love' is best. But choose one that is meaningful to you. Then fix it in your mind so that it will remain there, come what may . Be careful in this work and never strain your mind or imagination, for truly you will not succeed in this way. Leave these faculties at peace" (c.4,7). What we are concerned with here is a simple, effortless prolongation ~'or abiding in the act of faith--love--presence. This is so simple, so effort-less, so restful, that it is a bit subtle and so needs some explanation. A spiritual act is an instantaneous act, an act without time, "The will needs only this brief fraction of a moment to move toward the object of its desires" (The Cloud, c.4). As soon as we move in love to God present in our depths, we are there. There a perfect prayer of adoration, love and presence is. And we simply want to remain there and be what we are: Christ responding to the Father in perfect Love, the Holy Spirit. To facilitate our abiding quietly there, and to bring our whole being as much as 'possible to rest in this abiding, after a brief experience of silent presence we take up a single~ simple word that expresses for us our faith-love movement. We have seen that the author of The Cloud suggests such words as "God" or "love." A word in the vocative case seems usually to be best. We begin very simply to let this word repeat itself within us. We let it take its own pace, louder or softer, faster or slower; it may even drift off into silence. "It is best'when this word is wholly interior without a definite thought or actual sound" (The Cloud o[ Unknowing, c. 4). We might think of it as though the Lord himself, present in our depths, were quietly repeating his own name, evoking his presence and very gently summoning us to an attentive response. We are quite passive. We let it happen. "Let this little word represent to you God .in all his fullness and 'nothing less than the fullness of God. Let nothing except God hold sway in your mind and heart" (The Cloud, c.4). The subtle thing here is the effortlessness. We are so .used to being effortful. We are a people out to succeed, to accomplish, to do. It is hard for us to ',let go" and let God do. Yet we have but to let go and let it be done unto us according to his revealed Word. The temptation for us is to change the quiet mental repetition of the prayer-word (which simply pro-longs a state of being-present) into an effortfui repetition of an ejaculation Centering Prayer Prayer ol Quiet / 661 and to use it energetically to knock out any thoughts or "distractions" that come along.' This brings us to our third rule. Rule Three: Whenever in the course o[ the prayer we become aware o] any-thing else, we simply gently return to the prayer word. I want to underline that word aware. Unfortunately we are not able to turn off our minds and imaginations by the flick of a switch. Thoughts and images keep coming in a steady stream. "No sooner has a man turned toward God in love when through human frailty he finds himself distracted by the remembrance of some created thing or some daily care. But no matter. No harm done: For such a person quickly returns to deep recollec-tion" (The Cloud, c.4), In this.prayer we go below the thoughts and images offered by the mind and imagination. But at times they will grab at our attention and try to draw it away from the restful Presence. This is so because thoughts or images refer to something that has a hold on us, something wefear, or desire, or are in some other way intensely involved with. When we become aware of these thoughts, if we continue to dwell on them, we leave our prayer and become involved again in tensions. But if, at the moment we become aware, we simply, gently, return to our prayer-word (thus implicitly renewing our act of presence in faith-full .love), the thought or image with its attendant tension will be released and flow out of our awareness. And we will come into a greater freedom and peace that will remain with us after our prayer is ended. Should some thought go on annoying you demanding to know what you are doing, answer with this one word alone. If your mind begins to intellectualize over the meaning and connotation of this little word, remind yourself that its value lies in its simplicity. Do this and I assure you these thoughts will vanish (The Cloud o! Unknowing, c.7). We can see how pure this prayer is. In active forms of prayer we use thoughts and images as sacramentals and means for reaching out to God. In this prayer we go beyond them, we leave them behind, as we go to .God himself abiding in our depths. It is a very pure act of faith. Perhaps in this prayer we will for the first time really act in pure faith. So often our faith is leaning on the concepts and images of faith. Here we go beyond them to the Object' himself of faith, leaving all the concepts and images behind. We can see, too, how Christian this prayer is. For we truly die to our-selves, our more superficial selves, the level of our thoughts, images and feelings in order to live to Christ, to enter into our Christ-being in the depths. We "die" to all our thoughts arid imaginings, no matter how beau-tiful they may be or how useful they might seem. We leave them all be-hind, for we want immediate contact with God himself, and not some thought, image or vision of him-~only the faith-experience of himself. "You are to concern yourself with no creature, whether material or spiri- 662 / Review 1or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 tual, nor with their situation or doings, whether good or ill. To put it briefly, during this work you must abandon them all" (The Cloud o[ Un-knowing, c.5). "By Their Fruils . . ." There is another consequence of this transcending of thought and image. This prayer cannot be judged in itself. As it goes beyond thought, beyond image, there is nothing left by which to judge it. In active medita-tion, at the end of the prayer we can make some iudgments: "I had some good thoughts, I felt some good affections, I had lots of distractions, and so forth." But all that is irrelevant to this prayer, If we have rots of thoughts--good, lots of tension is being released; if we have few thoughts --good, there was no need for them. The same for feelings, images, and more. All these are purely accidental; they do not touch the essence of the prayer, which goes on in all its purity, whether these be present or not. There i~ nothing left by which to judge the prayer in itself. If we simply follow the three rules, the prayer is always good, no matter what we think or feel. There is, however, one way in which the goodness of this pra)Ter is con-firmed for us. Our Lord has said, "You can judge a tree by its fruits." If we are faithful to this form of prayer, making it a regular part of our day, we very quickly come to discern--and often others discern it even more quickly--the maturing in our lives of the fruits of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, benignity, kindness, gentleness--all the fruits of the Spirit. I have experienced this in my own life and I have seen this again and again in the lives of others, sometimes in a most remarkable way. What happens, ¯ the way the Spirit seems to bring this about, is that in this prayer we experi-ence not only our oneness with God in Christ, but also our oneness with all the rest of the Body of Christ, and indeed with the whole of creation, in God's creative love and sharing of being. Thus we begin, connaturally as it were, to experience the presence of God in all things, the presence of Christ in each person we meet. Moreover, we sense a oneness with them. From this ~flows a true compassion--a "feeling-with." This contemplative prayer, far from removing us from others, makes us live more and more conscious of our oneness with them. Love, kindness, gentleness, patience grow. Joy and peace, too, in the pervasive presence of God's caring love in all. Not only does contemplative prayer help us to take possession of our real transcendent relationship with God in Christ, but also of our real relationship with each and every person in Christ. 'Charismatic Spirituality and. the Catechist Johannes Ho[inger, S.J. Father Hofinger is well known for his work and writing in the field of catechetics. He resides at the Center of Jesus the Lord~; 1236 N. Rampart St.; New Orleans, LA 70116. The true value of any ramification of Christian spirituality must always be judged according to its potential of leading to authentic union with God in a life lived according to God's saving plan. Some valuable side-effects or some partial aspects of this basic criterion cannot ultimately determine the worth of a given spirituality. But good side-effects, too, have their value and deserve to be properly estimated, of course always in the light of the cen-tral aim: an ever closer union with God. With this in mind it may be worthwhile to ask what charismatic spiritu-ality can contribute to a fruitful-engagement in the apostolate of catechetics. A large percentage of religious serve the Kingdom of God in one or other activity'involving religious education. A continuously growing number of them also participate in charismatic prayer meetings. Thus the question may well arise: what can authentic charismatic spirituality contribute to their cate-chetical apostolate?. How can genuine charismatic spirituality dispose them to become ever more perfectly what Christ expects of them if they are to proclaim with him the Good News of God's saving love.? No one would say that all who regularly participate in charismatic prayer meetings have therefore grasped genuine charismatic spirituality and really live it, just as no one would contend that all who live in Jesuit communities have grasped and really live genuine Jesuit spirituality. Be-cause of this, it is definitely meaningful to make explicit inquiry into the apostolic values of the spirituality of Jesuits---or of charismatics. 663 664 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 The Pentecostal Origin of Christian Catechesis Before entering into an analysis of charismatic spirituality and its potential for the catechetical apostolate, it may be worthwhile to remember the pentecostal origin of Christian catechesis. The New Testament is very explicit in this regard. True, all gospels mention how, even before Pente-cost, Christ had commissioned his disciples to preach the Good News in his name, but John (14, 15-17) and Luke (24, 49; Ac 1, 8) insist that Christ explicitly promised them the indispensable assistance of the Holy Spirit in order to fulfill their difficult task. In Acts 2 we are given a detailed report as to how the first powerful proclamation of the Good News started with Pentecost. It may truly be said, then, that Christ formed his first messengers through the Holy Spirit. The catechesis of the primitive Church was plainly charismatic in character. To this historical fact Acts and the epistles of the apostles give irrefutable testimony. The starting point of the original evangelization is the pentecostal experience of the life and exaltation of the risen Christ, the emphatic proclamation that he is Lord. "All the people of Israel, then, are to know for sure that it is this Jesus, whom you nailed to the cross, that God has made Lord and Messiah" (Ac 2, 36). This experience of the apostles was so overwhelming that they could simply not cease to speak of what they had seen and heard (see Ac 4, 20). The extraordinary results of this apostolic preaching were not due to any particular method, but to the religious depth of their charismatic ex-perience and the power of the Holy Spirit which accompanied it. "When I came to you," St. Paul reminded the Corinthians, "I was weak and trembled all over with fear, and my teaching and message were not de-livered with skillful words of human wisdom, but with convincing proof of the power of God's Spirit. Your faith, then, does not rest on man's wisdom, but on God's power" (1 Co 2, 3-5. See also Ga 3, 1-5). Is there any indication in the Scriptures or in ecclesial tradition that God later on wanted to lose the original intimate connection of charismatic experience and the proclamation of his Good News? What does the testi-mony of history tell us about the spirituality of the most outstanding heralds of the Gospel throughout all the centuries? Surrender to Christ Even a good number of charismatics may not be sufficiently aware of what constitutes the basic charismatic experience. They may overrate some valuable, particular gift such as prophecies, healing, or the gift of speaking or singing in tongues, and not see these particular gifts clearly enough against the background of the much more' fundamental gift which consists in the total surrender to Christ under the impulse of the Holy Spirit. Surely we cannot blame the Scriptures for such misunderstandings. Although they were showered with the particular gifts we have just men- Charismatic Spirituality and the Catechist / 665 tioned, the e.mphasis of the primitive Church and of its leaders rested unequivocally upon the overwhelming experience they had of God's saving power and love as experienced in their Spirit-given encounter with Christ the Lord and Savior. This holds good not only for the very first disciples who personally have seen and heard the risen Christ, but also for the others who, on the word of the apostles, believed in Christ and accepted him as the Lord of their lives. The original preaching of the Gospel was the enthusiastic proclama-tion of God's saving power with the Christ-event at its very center. "It is the.Good News," St. Paul wrote to the Romans: "I preach, the message about Jesus Christ . . . the secret truth which was hidden for long ages in the past. Now, however, that truth has been brought out into the open" (Ro 16, 25f). It is "a message that is'offensive to the Jews and nonsense to the Gentiles; but for those whom God has called . . . this message is Christ who is the power of God and the wisdom of God" (1 Co 1, 23f). The effect which this faith-surrender to Christ should have on our lives is perhaps nowhere described as impressively as in the writings of St. Paul. In Chapter 3 of his letter to the Philippians--his favorite Christian com-munity- he described the first impact of this surrender to Christ as he experienced it in his own life. After his encounter with Christ (which was real, but definitely charismatic in character) he says, "All things that I might count as profit I now reckon as loss, for Christ's sake. Not only those things; I reckon everything ~s complete loss for the sake of what is so much more valuable, the knowledge of Christ my Lord. For his sake I have thrown everything away; I consider it all as mere garbage, so'that--I might gain Christ, and be completely united with him . All I want is to know Christ and to experience the power.of his resurrection; to share in his sufferings and to become like him in his death, in the hope that I myself will be raised from death to life" (Ph 3, 7-11 ). St. Paul leaves no doubt that he .expects a similar Christ experience in the lives of all His friends. Significantly he concludes this passage of his epistle with the remark: All of us who are spiritually mature should have this attitude . Keep on imitating me, my brothers. We have set the right example, for you, so pay attention to those who follow it" (Ph 3, 15-17). Admittedly every surrender to Christ isn't always charismatic to this same degree. The impulse of the Holy Spirit that leads to it is not always experienced with the same awareness and depth of experience that was Paul's. But any true surrender to Christ is in fact always the result of the impulse of the Spirit. "No one can confess 'Jesus is Lord' unless he is guided by the Holy Spirit" ( 1 Co 12, 3). . What is important here is simply this. On the one hand we know that genuine Pentecostalism, as we find it at the beginning of Christianity, has the surrender to Christ as its fundamental experience. On the other hand, we all agree that authentic catechetical activity continues the preaching 666 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 of the Apostles; thus, it, too, must have Christ as its center and it, too, must communicate an existential knowledge of Christ that leads to a life of union with Christ the Lord'. What does this mean for the spiritual life of the religion-teacher him- .self? Must he not first himself live in an exemplary way what he teaches others? Could not the charismatic renewal bring him the spiritual encounter with Christ which is indispensable for his catechetical apostolate? Herald of the Good News The first "Pentecostals" were also the first catechists of the early Church. Although Christ had commissioned the Twelve with the proclama-tion of the Good News, and although they must have been aware of their apostolic obligation, there is nothing to indicate that their preaching was primarily the discharge of an incumbent task, but was rather the spontane-ous consequence of their overwhelming experience of God's saving power. Their own deep and joyful experience simply compelled them to com-municate their own spiritual riches. In the pentecostal movement of our times there is question again of a very similar experience. Whatever one may think of this movement, it is impossible to deny the fact of its tremendous evangelizing power which results from the experience of God's forgiving love. For various reasons the pentecostal experience may not always be equally sotind, but we should not overlook its unusual power of communication. Fundamentally it is the joyful experience of liberation and salvation through the undeserved love of God. Fcr a long time we did not stress enough in Catholic catechetics and homiletics the essentially joyful character of God's message which, by its very nature, is the "gospel," the "Good Tidings." The way, for example, that the message was presented for a long time in the Baltimore Catechism surely did not do justice to the "evangelic" character of God's saving mes-sage. Sorry to say, very few priests and even bishops noticed that some-thing was wrong. The kerygmatic renewal of the late 50's and early 60's opened our eyes; yet there was still much to be desired. All too many re-ligion teachers considered kerygmatics only as a new "method," and did not even grasp its basic point. What kerygmatics intended before all else was a new religious attitude on the part of the teacher himself, not simply a change of textbooks. The teacher of religion is called to proclaim. God's message as Good News. But he cannot do this properly if he has not first in his own life experienced the Christian religion as a liberating power and as the source of deep, interior peace and joy. As long as Christianity for the teacher of religion ,means primarily a matter of inescapable duty or a complex of "good and venerable traditions" which, after all, still deserve to be kept, he will never become a true "evangelizer." His message may be correct, but Charismatic Spirituality and the Catechist / 667 it will not be the "Gospel" which God intended to be given to his beloved children. It would be naive to think that only within the charismatic renewal of our times can the Christian message and Christian life be experienced as the source and guarantee of deep and lasting joy., But it is sufficient ,for our purpose here simply to show that authentic charismatic renewal can make a valid and powerful contribution in this regard. Catechetical and Religious Concentration Before Vatican II Catholic preaching and religious observance often suffered from a deplorable lack of concentration on the essentials, a fact which caused real scandal to our fellow-Christians. That devotional themes, often presented in a sentimental way, could for so long a~ time hold a preferential position .before essential themes, such as the meaning of the Holy Spirit, of true conversion and justice--and this even in the priestly catechesis in the course of the Eucharist--was a fact which clamored for correction. This is not the place to demonstrate how much the Council was aware of this shortcoming, and how it tried to remedy it (see, e,g., J. Hofinger, Our Message is Christ/Notre Dame, Fides, 1974; pp. 6-8). Preconciliar religion teachers (priests, religious, and lay-teachers alike) were usually very cohcerned about the orthodoxy of their teaching. Their c6ncern resulted from the conviction that, in the teaching of religion, the teacher is acting as a messenger of. God whose saving word must be faith-fully transmitted from generation to generation without any falsification. (In fact, we religion teachers of today could learn much from our predeces-sors and their concern to be faithful messengers of God!) But, while giving full credit to the validity of this concern, we might also mention that authentic orthodoxy in the messenger was often understood in much too narrow a way. In order to transmit a given message correctly and faithfully, it is not endugh merely to avoid particular statements which contradict the original message. A faithful messenger must also concentrate upon the central idea of the message that is given to him. He must make sure that all who listen to him grasp at least the main message and act accordingly. Secondary e~lements must be relegated to the peril0hery, or even .omitted altogether in circumstances in which the solid presentation of the more important ele-ments might demand it. Teachers of religion who speak more about the Little Flower or about Fatima than they do about the Holy Spirit are not heretics in the technical sense. But they do commit, objectively, a serious fault against one indispensable element of' their role as conscientious messengers. Historical studies of the last thirty years have proven convincingly that the. evangelization of the early Church excelled in its concentration upon the core of the Christian message. In our times, we might almost be 668 / Review lor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 shocked by this resolute concentration, putting, as it does, its whole empha-sis on the core, while it remains surprisingly broad-minded in treating of the rest. The early catechesis forcefully proclaimed God's saving love "now," in the fullness of time, offered to everyone who accepts this love and believes in~.Christ the Lord and Savior. The center of the original message was, beyond any doubt, the Christ-event: tile exaltation of Christ crucified as the Lord of all. It is a joyful message of salvation, but it de-mands a thorough change of life. Ih the name of his Heavenly Father, the risen Christ calls his beloved brothers and sisters to a new life; he fills them with his Spirit; he unites them with himself in a communion .of life and love. The charismatic renewal has as its special purpose a ~horough renova-tion of Christian faith and Christian life in the spirit of its origins. Catholic charismatics are sufficiently aware that we cannot simply copy the primitive Church. Mere .pristine returns never work in history. But from the spirit of the early Church we can all learn. In dealing with the renewal of religious life, th~ Council rightly insisted that authentic renewal in a religious community must be characterized by the revival of the original spirit of the particular institute. This principle is equally valid for any authentic renewal in the Church as a whole. And the return to the original spirit of Pentecost and of the early Church includes, as one of its main points, a healthy concentration upon the essentials of both the Christian mes-sage- and the Christian life. Charismatic renewal in our times has under-stood this, and so has resulted in a noticeable improvement among its adherents precisely in this regard. It is only realistic to note the fact that many of our most dedicated religion teachers come from those segments of the Christian people who were deeply influenced by the earlier, more devotional approach to re-ligion. These individuals often excel in their abundance of good will. But, at the same time, in their spiritual life they lack this necessary concentra-tion which, thus, was also lacking in their catechetical activities. It is en-tirely possible that participation in one or other solid charismatic p~:ayer group could help them to develop still more what was best in their earlier experience and, at the'same time, introduce into their lives and into their teaching the concentration that is so necessary to any life of faith and of apostolate. Importance of Prayer and Religious Experience The concentration that characterized evangelization and life in the early Church was not the product of professional theological reflection, but rather the result of God's gracious outpouring of the Holy Spirit. This outpouring was received in a situation of personal encounter with God expressed, above all, in prayer. The Pentecostal experience, throughout, was distinguished by exuberant and powerful religious emotions, but 'not in Charismatic Spirituality and the Catechist / 669 the sense of a purposeless emotionalism in which emotions figured as ends in themselves. Rather the experience was the result of their vivid aware-ness of our Lord's presence among them and of their astonishment about the marvels God had accomplished in their midst (see Ac 2:11 ). The Acts and all the epistles of the canon present" in this regard a similar picture. Apostolic preaching and apostolic ministry'was not geared to the cultivation of exuberant but irrational emotions. Rather they were geared to the implantation of faith in the sense of an unconditional accept-ance. of the gospel which was then, under the guidance of the Spirit, to lead to an authentic r61igious experience with profound and vigorou.s emotions. Whenever it came to the point of an overflow of emotions, the Apostles insisted upon the necessity of discernment and balance (see, for example, 1 Co 12:3; 14:23, 33; 1 Th 5:19-22). The pentecostal movement of our century must be understood as a re-action against a one-sided rational approach to religion; one which did not do iustice to its emotional side. In this reaction, the movement may at times have expressed itself exaggeratedly in the opposite direction. Still, overall, it would be easy to show that Catholic charismatics have moved toward a sound balance of religious insight, commitment and sentiment just as they have also demonstrated an awareness of their Catholic identity, keeping themselves open to the recommendations and warnings of. the best Catholic spiritual traditions. Even in cases where groups have yet to reach this de-sired balance, we still have to acknowledge their valuable contribution to religious renewal in bringing so many people to a new appreciation and practice of genuine prayer, and through their insistence on more spontaneity in the expression of religious conviction and sentiments. The significance of this contribution for catechetics becomes immedi-ately evident as soon ~as we try to evaluate it against the backg~:ound of our present catechetical situation. An impartial assessment o1~ this present situa-tion would disclose an unprecedentedly low general interest in religion, which stems primarily from our present culture with its secularized outlook on life. In this kind of situation, we need a powerful catechetical movement, one which insists above all on a new awareness of God in life, one which helps those affected to encounter God again in a very existential way. Yet, in fact, we have to admit that the catechetics of the past ten years have more and more stressed the merely human aspects of religious education, that catechetics have quite often favored a secularized outlook on life in-stead of a genuinely religious approach to it. Misled by a wrong interpreta-tion of God's immanence in his world, teachers of religion today seem.to be inclined to content themselves more and more with the "discovery" of inner-worldly values and with a proper use of such values in life without ascending from them to God, to a personal encounter with God in genuine prayer. Thus, catechetics in the past ten years may often have neglected, the 670 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 vertical dimension in the process of religious education, but they have surely not neglected at ail to stress the great importance of spontaneity, of gen-uine human experience and emotions in all spheres of'human activity. Mod-ern man, growing up as he is in a secularized culture, may find great difficul-ties in discovering God. But whenever he does discover God and does come to personal contact with ~him, modern man definitely favors the kind: of dialogue which is characterized by great spontaneity and by 'the engage-ment of strong emotions. Especially among younger people, today's person shox~s interest only in a religious movement which gives a great deal of room for spontaneity, for emotional expression. The Spirit of Community The charismatic spirituality of the early Christians was distinguished by conspicuous spontaneity. But this spontaneity must not be misinterpreted as religious individualism! Their pentecostal experience united them inti-mately into a single, closely knit community. When Luke describes (Ac 2:42-47) the life of the first Christians, he may well have idealized somewhat the historical reality. But he certainly expressed well the ideal image which the early Church had formed of herself and which she labored to realize in the various Christian communities of those early days--of course without ever realizing this ideal. Luke, of course, is fully aware of the leaciing position of the Apostles and of their important task, and even stresses it in unambiguous fashion. However, as he portrays her, the early Church is above all a communion of life and of love. His pentecostal community is exactly the ideal of what we call now-a-days the "basic community." There is no ~need to enter here upon an historical investigation of the causes which led this initial ideal of the Christian life to lose its original ur-gency and attraction. Suffice it to say that the change definitely did not come from a change on the part of the Holy Spirit and of his basic in-spiration. Rather it stemmed from a change on the part of ~the Christians-who did not listen to the Holy Spirit in the same way as did the first Chris-tians. As a result of unfavorable influences from without, and from a faulty development within the Church, Catholic theology and its catechetics have, for a long time, overly stressed the ingtitutional aspect of the Church. It needed the assistance of the Holy Spirit in the last council to restore once more the right balance, to see the Church again as, above all, a "communion" (withou.t forgetting or minimizing the God-given aspects of its institutional character). The General Catechetical Directory, published by the Holy See in 1971 as a guideline for all catechetical work, tries to make teachers of religion aware of this shift in emphasis: "The Church is a communion: She herself acquired a fuller awareness of that truth in the Second Vatican Council" (n. 66). Charismatic Spirituality and the Catechist / 671 In order to experience once again the Church as a communion of life and love, there is need for more than a mere shift in catechetical emphasis. There is. need for the formation of relatiVely sma.ll but dynamic Christian communities which can truly come to this experience. Our typical mammoth parishes cannot achieve this experience unless they build up within their structure much smaller groups of deeply committed Christians. Since the begin~ning of this century, small groups have been forming themselves in this renew~il of pentecostal experience. For the most part non- Catholic, these bands have regularly shown strong cohesion within the par-ticular group, while at the same time manifesting little concern for the universal church, coupled with a noticeable tendency to split among them-selves into yet smaller groups with markedly~ sectarian attitudes. Many years' later, when the pentecostal movement began to lay hold of Catholic circles, many feared that something similar would happen among Catholic charismatics. In fact, however, just the opposite took place. Pre-cisely at the time when many Catholics began to waver in their loyalty to the Church, the overwhelming majority of Catholic charismatics "were giv-ing convincing proofs of their loyalty. In fact, through the charismatic move-ment,, many Catholics found a new and vital contact with the institutional Church. In fact, an impartial assessment would lead to the impression that, in the overall scene; there is more interest on the part of charismatic groups in the institutional Church than there is interest on the part of the parochial clergy to provide pastoral care for the charismatic groups within their area --and this at a time when we desperately need the development of such small groups within the Church. It is not impossible that participation in some solid charismatic group. could give to today's religion teacher a valuable experience of Christian community of precisely the kind that he would need in order to present the Church'as a communion! A Zest for Scripture One characteristic feature of pentecostal spirituality is a zest for Scrip-ture. We encounter this everywhere in pentecostal prayer-meetings and in the members' daily prayer-life. This zest for Scripture comes from the first "Pentecostals"; it is a basic element of the spirituality of the early Church. In fact, we can even say that it is a valuable heritage which the young Church received from the Synagogue. The painful break with the Synagogue did not affect Christian attitudes toward the Scripture. Rather, early Chris-tians continued in their deep appreciation and ardent use of them. In our own time, many Catholics found new access to Scripture through the charismatic renewal. True, long before the beginning of Catholic charis-matic renewal, there was in the Church a powerful biblical renewal which had a decisive impact on the discussions and decisions of Vatican II. Just a few years before the first Catholic charismatic groups started, the Council had 672 ,/ Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 already vindicated, with unusual emphasis, the role of the Scriptures in authentic Christian spirituality (see Constitution on Revelation, nn. 21-26). There is no need for us to decide here which had in fact brought more Catholics back once again to the Scriptures: the teachings of Vatican II or the later charismatic prayer-meetings, It is sufficient for our purpose simply to point out that a genuine zest for Scripture and its religious wealth is not just a fad among charismatics, but an indispensable element of the spiritual-ity which is to be expected from any true Christian, and, of course, most especially, from the teacher of religion who acts as a messenger of God. Vatican II tells us: "In the sacred books, the Father who is in heaven meets his children with great love and speaks with them; and the force and power in the word of God is so great that it remains the support and energy of the Church, the strength of faith for her sons, the food of the soul, the pure and perennial source of spiritual life" (Constitution on Revelation, n. 21). If the Council really meant what it so emphatically stressed, what must follow for anyone who would take the Council seriously? In describing charismatic spirituality, we are fully aware that any move-ment like the pentecostal renewal is going to include groups which express and live this spirituality with enormous differences of perfection. It could easily happen that a given individual sincerely appreciates charismatic spirituality, yet is not at all satisfied with its realization in the group which meets next door. In such a situation, his remedy may well be to seek out another, more congenial group. The ideal solution for teachers of religion who work as a team~would be to form their own group from the members of the. team. That wotild, be the best answer to their special needs and to their particular aspirations. The Rope When a man reaches the' end of his rope, he comes to the beginning of God. Edward A. Gloeggler P.O. Box 486 Far Rockaway, NY 11~91 On Burying Our Isaacs Sister Mary Catherine Barron, C.S.J. Sister Mary Cath~erine has been a frequent contributor to ,our pages, her last having appeared in the March issue. Her address in the coming year will be: St. loseph's Provincial House; 91 Overlook Ax;e.; Latham, NY 12110. Th~ word of God is something alive and active: it i~uts',like any double-edged sword but more finely: it can slip through the place ~vhere the soul is divided from the spirit, or joint.s from the mar~row; it can judge the secret emotions and thoughts. No created thing can hide from him; everything is uncovered and open to the eyes of the one to whom we must give an account of ourselves (Heb 4, 12-13). It happened Sometime' ,later that God put Abraham to the test (Gn 22, 1). Abraham was a vulnerable man. He could never-quite master the art ~of resisting God. Always, he was too available. Had he been a more pragmatic human being, he would have quickly cultivated a quality of deafness where God.was concerned---rr at least a fair pretense of it. But that was his weak-ness: he was too receptive. Whenever God called, he answered. Such alacrity can be dangerous, especially wtiere Yahweh is involved. He is all-consuming. And so when, after a short span of years of relative peace and quiet, God once again cried out his name: "Abraham~ Abraham," our Old Testa-ment forefather responded as could be expected: "Here I am." He should have known better. He should have realized toe incipient danger of those words, because he had uttered them before and they had cost him quite a bit of pain. In ~fact, they had brought him to where he was then: in a strange land of strange people with a young son, the fruit of his and Sarah's old age. It had been a weary journey to this destination, filled with suffering and hope, alienation and promise, discouragement and fulfillment. But today, existence was peaceful and ,.God was benign and Abraham was happy in the new life growing up around him: Isaac, his son. So he never should have " 673 674 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 answered with such openness, such literalness, when he said: "Here I am." Those three words capsulized a whole lifetime of givenness and surrender on Abraham's part and God knew that. He knew the implied depths of Abraham's response because long ago he had blasted his foundation, carved him out, and molded him in faith. So God was not surprised at Abraham's reply. Hehad tested him before. Purgation is a messy business. No matter how finely wrought the.instru-ment, there is always pain and a certain amount of blood-letting. Ironically, although we are quite familiar with the concept, we are never much at ease in the throes of the process. Double-edged swords are dangerous, especially the ones that slip into the hidden place "where the soul is divided from the spirit," because eventually they strike the heart. Abraham had been prodded and probed before. But he had also lived long enough to realize that there are always untouched recesses, crevices of the heart, where the finger of God has not yet been felt. One of those crevices contained Isaac. And so Yahweh commands: "Take your son, your only child Isaac, wh~m you love, and go to the land of Moriah. There you shall offer him as~a burnt offering, on a mountain I will point out to you" (Gn 22, 2). God couldn't have~ been more blunt nor, apparently, more unfeeling~ With near ferocity, he highlights the very nadir points involved in Abraham's sacrifice: '~'son," "only child," "Isaac," "whom you love." And then he conjures up a picture of that supple-limbed first fruit of endless expectation: blackened--a burr~t offering on a wilder-ness mountaintop. Abraham makes no response because he has already made the 'total one of "Here I am." We are. simply told that early next .morning he rises and begins the three days' journey to Moriah. Whatever the outcome, the journey itself is part of the purgation, is already a piece of the burnt offer-ing, and the fact that.it is leading to final consummation only intensifies the pain. Anguish is not a very communicable emotion. It is too deep for utter-ance. So insistent is it that all other~feelings.give way before its flood. So Abraham says little on the pilgrimage to holocaust, but in grim irony loads Isaac with the wood and himself takes the knife and the fire. In stolid faith, Abraham bears in his own hands the purgative instruments that will cut. and sear his son. But more deeply, he bears the instruments that will cut and sear himsel[.olsaac is to suffer a holocaust ,of body; Abraham suffers a holocaust of heart. iOutrage always accompanies the destruction.of an innocent---outrage on the part of the non-participants. But who can fathom the outrage Abraham feels as he binds his only son and lays him on the altar? We cannot begin to plumb the depths of his grieving heart that still believes in the~irrevocable word of Yahweh. "Abraham stretched out his hand and seized the knife to kill his son" (Gn 22, 10). On Burying Our "lsaacs / 675 Once again the cry comes: "Abraham, Abraham" and once again the familiar responseis given:. ','I am here." And then come the sal~,ific words: "Do not raise your hand against the boy; do not harm him, for now I know you fear God. You have not refused me your son, your only son" (Gn 22, 11~13). Isaac is spared. What about Abraham? The holocaust of the body does not occur; the holocaust of the heart is complete. We are accustomed to naming Abraham our "Father in Faith." Is he not also the ',Father of Freed Love!'? All the time he thought the journey was made to annihilate Isaac. Now he discovers that it was made to annihi-late Abraham. Father van Breemen in his book, Called By Name, offers the following analysis: When Abraham descends from tl~e mountai'n~ with his son, both he and Isaac have changed; something has happened on that hilltop . Like a tree which has been turned full circle in the ground, Abraham's~roots have been cut loose, and he has returned a new man (p. 19). in what does his newness consist?' Abraham comes down the mountain with a living Isaac: Yetsomething in both of them is dead. Because he wag bent over the prone Isaac on the altar, we Could not 'see the pain in Abra-ham'S eyes, the look of utter bewilderment at what he was about to do, the trembling terror at the death of love by his o~wn hand. But Isaac could see~ And in that look of love that 'was exchanged b6tw~en them--father and son--the holocaust of the heart is accomplished. In that inst"~n't, Isaac cedes over his life to his father in trust and surrender. And Abraham cedes over his heart to Yahweh in a similar fashion. Because part of Abraham's heart is Isaac, that part of Isaac in Abraham's heart dies forever on Mount Moriah. Abraham returns to Beersheba with a son, but no longer with his son. Isaac is irrevocably gone, yielded over to Yahweh. Isaac returns ~vith a father who is no longer solely his father, but more radically is father to Yahweh's people. Both lose and gain life; both surrender the other and are given the other in return--but transformed. In The Letter to the Hebrews we are told: It was by faith that Abraham, when put to the test, offered up Isaac. He offered to sacrifice his only son even though the promises had been made to him and he had been told: It is through Isaac that your name will be carried on. He was confident that God had the power to raise the dead; and so, figuratively speaking, he was given back Isaac from the dead (Heb 11, 17-19). Centuries later, when speaking of losing and gaining life, Jesus would use the analogy of the wheat grain dying in the earth to produce a rich harvest. We might say that out of.the seed of love for Isaac which Abraham allows to die in the holy ground of Yahweh, com~s the rich harvest of transformed life. For Abraham, indeed, has Isaac back from the dead, but only after he has first let him go. In a sense, he leaves Mount Moriah having buried part of himself and his son there. 676 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 So what does the story mean to us? Certainly we are relieved that Isaac is not slain. We are glad that: Abraham's faith was vindicated: And we hope that we are never put to such a test. It is just such a latter mentality that is our mistake and our misfortune. For we all have our Isaacs--those, hidden crevices of the heart.where we do not even realize that "the soul is divided from the spirit." Unless we are willing to bur), them (our Isaacs) in a holo-caust of: the heart, our faith is weak and our love is unfree. And to that extent We,are poor spiritual progeny of our great desert patriarch. ' The Book of Judith tells us: We should be grateful to the Lord, our God, for putting us to the'test, as he did Our forefathers. Recall how he dealt with Abraham, and how' he tried Isaac; and all that happened to Jacob in Syrian Mesopotamia while he was tending the flocks of Laban, his mother's brother. Not for vengeance did the Lord p,ut them in the crucible to try their hearts, nor has he done so with us. It is by way of admonition that' fie chastises those who are close to him (J~t 8:25-27), Admonition for what? Admonition, so that eventually our hearts in the crucible will be so tot~ally purified'that we will, indeed, have lai~ to final rest all our Isaacs. Admonition, so that eventually our hearts in the cruc!.- ble will be so totally free that we too will be able to respond as did Abraham to Yahweh's cali :~ "Here I am." "The @ord of God is something alive and active"--in Abraham'~ day and in our own.'~Will we let it pierce us, double-edged though it might be? Some Practical Reflections on the General Congregation Pedro Arrupe, S.]. Father, Arrupe, General of the Society of Jesus, originallY, gave this talk as part of a series of cbnferences on the 32rid General Congregation which was sponsored by the Centrum lgnatianum Spiritualitatis (CIS; Borgo S. Spirito, 5; C. P. 9048; 00100 Roma, Italy),~which ~s presently preparing the conferences (in the languages in which they were delivered) in book form. I would like to speak tO you about the last section of Decree 4 of the recent 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus. As you know, Decree 4 was on "Our Mission Today," and the last section of it dea!.t with "Prac-tical Dispositions." These practical dispo~sitions are applications that follow from t,h~e general decisions and guidelines developed throughout the decree. When the, Congregation states~, in this.decree, that "the mission of the Society of Jesus today is the service of faith, of which the promotion of jus~tice is an absolute requirement," it is not in the slightest way restricting the purpose, of the Society. That Society was founded, as you know, princi-pally "to serve the divine Majesty and his holy Church, under the Roman Pontiff, th~ Vicar of Christ on earth" and "to devote itself totally to.~the defense and spre~ad of the holy Catholic faith." Those words are taken from the F'ormula ol the Institute, approved by Pope Julius III (MI [ser. 3] I, 375-~76). The Soci.ety's purpose thus remains the same as ever: the ex-pression that,the 32nd General Congregation used is.simply a reformulation to meet the needs of the present-day world, which is characterized by so many and such flagrant injustices. And so, in discussing this D.ecree 4, we are simply showing how the So-ciety i~sflu~f!,~ll!ng its overall purpose:, how it is living up to its mission. The principle~s, attitu~.es and methods that the decree proposes thus acquire a 677 6711 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 universal value much more far-reaching than the Decree itself, since every- ~thing is included in, and exemplified by, the way the Society carries out its purpose. The Originaiity of St. Ignatius The originality of St. Ignatius is to be found, not so much in the rea-sons that he "put down in writing, so as to be able to reflect on them" (Spiritual Diary, Feb. 11, 1544), as in "other illuminations" that he re-ceived from the Holy Trinity, with "feelings of intense emotion" (ibid.). 'Clearly, his originality will keep the same creativity and apostolic vigor down through .history, and the Society of today wants to continue to be--and should continue to be--what St. Ignatius made it. But there are certain moments in history when an inner force appears, stirring that originality to new external manifestations, and its dynamism acts with greater exuberance and creativity. Today is such a moment. In the aggiornamento that Vatican II called for, the Holy Spirit speaks more clearly to the Church (See Per- [ectae Caritatis, 2), and hence to the Society too, inviting us to a "thorough-going reassessment of our traditional apostolic methods, attitudes and in-stitutions, so as to adapt them to the changed conditions of our day" (De-cree 4:9). Our effort, then, after the congregation even more than during it, has to be to discern how we can provide the Society's distinctive service and carry out its mission with all its consequences. The new way of exercising this mission will require of the updated Society new or renewed attitudes, en-deavors, undertakings and institutions, which in turn presuppose new men, similarly reriewed fo~ today's generation. All these elements--"the Society of Jesus, its mission, its apostolate, its way of life"--are closely in~e'rrelated and cannot be considered or achieved separately. We cannot, therefore, discuss how the decree would have us carry out our apostolate, prescinding from our Order's special charism, or from the Jesuit'of today and his life style. In the constant advance of the pilgrim Church, which, vivified' by the Holy Spirit and under his impulse, comes ever closer to Christ (s~e LG 4), amid persecutions from the world" and consolations from God, the 32nd General Congregation is merely one episode in 'the life of this universal Church moving toward its eschatological perfection. The congregation too, as part of humanity and of the people of God, has felt itself inspired, guided and strengthened by that Spirit "who writes and impresses on hearts the law of charity and love" (Introd. to Constitutions, 1.) and keeps pressing toward "what is most conducive" (Sp. Ex. 23). A Return to Sources At this moment of history, the challenge the world offers has'brought the Society to a limit-situation, forcing it to go: back to the original soui'ces Some Practical Reflections on the General Congregation / 679 of Ignatian spirituality, to find there more effective means, to be able to face today's problems vigorously, not only in order to survive, but to come out of them purified and rejuvenated, and thus to.be more apt for giving the Church the service it desires. The return to Loyola, Manresa, Paris, La Storta and Rome was a .spontaneous movement in the Society of Jesus, and especially in the fathers of the General Congregation. We were, and we are, conscious that any renewal must always be inspired by those funda-mental :graces that St. Ignatius received for himself and the whole Society, by those mystical intuitions that begar~ with the spiritual infancy of Ignatius (.God treated him as an infant then, he tells us in his Autobiography) and continued through his full spiritual maturity, when he composed the Con-stitutions. The-me(hod that the congregation suggests for our ~practical applica-tion of what Decree 4 recommends is very simple, yet it is based on a deep theology and a logic and practical sense that give us the greatest guarantees. The Method Is the Message It has been said in another context that "the medium is the message." Here we may say that "the method is the message," because it includes such a wealth of elements that, though perhaps not altogether new, are under-stood and applied in so profound a way that their meaning and implications and correlations give them a great novelty. It is a method that uses new concepts, and when applied, sheds a new light on those concepts on which it is based. This method was not excogitated in an abstract or a priori way, but results fr6m a number of enriching ideas and concepts, of better studied, better tested situations. Thus it arose almost spontaneously, not so much as a logical deduction, but rather as the fruit of many vital° elements and their mutual Correlations, e.g., the concepts of mission, ofcommunity, of interpersonal relations, of service, of authority, bf poverty, and so' forth. It would be very easy to describe superficially thee manner of applying this decree, but that wa3~ we would not reach the real profundity of its method, nor would we catch the meaning and concrete manner of its application. It would b~ totally ineffective to proceed that way. Our deeper know!edge of certain concepts and circumstances enables us to work out a method v,e~ suited to the situations of this new world of ours. Thus, the application of this method, plus the experience, the intuitions and tile difficulties that contact with reality adds to it, enriches the ~concepts and gives them a greater r6alism. But that is not all: our new understanding of the ideas and their prac-tical apostolic applications call for renewed men~.who, incarnating this men-tality, will react in a fresh way, or at least will be able to adapt their ser-vice to the new needs of a Church and of a mankind we see rapidly becom-ing the great, universal human family. 680 / Review ]or Religious, l/olume 35, 1976/5 A Process of Reflection and Revision The final section of this decree, subtitled "Practical Dispositions," 6pen~ with a clearly Ignatian principle: "Considering the variety of situations in which Jesuits work, the°General Congregation cannot pi~ovide a single, uni-versally applicable program for producing this awareness and reducing it to 15ractice acco~rding to th~ decisions and guidelines gi,~en. Each province or group of provinces 'must undertake a program of reflection.and a review of our apostolate to discover what action is ,appropriate in each particular con-text" .(4.'71): It is the same princip!e that P.ope Paul stated for the whole Church in his Octogesima adveniens: "Faced with such varying situations, it is hard for Us~to formulate a single statement and propose a Solution with universal validity . It is for the Christian communities to analyse objec-tively their country's situation, to clarify' it in the light ofr'the unchanging words of the gospel" (4). ~ To find the appropriate mode of action, the congregation .gives us tWO basic principles that are implicitly contained in the Constitutions, the norms for the selection of ministries and those for the preparation of the instru-ment. We express these principles today by the terms "discernment" and "continuing formation." They are like two roads leading us to a personal knowledge, a conviction, and a more perfect pe~rformance of what God wants of us at each moment. Discernment , Discernment is, in all its profundity, the best way (I would say, con-sidering it in all its breadth, the only way) to be able to plan and choose among our concrete options, the proper apostolic strategy, in other words, to discover God's will for us here and now. The congregation recommends precisely this to us when it says that we need, "not so much a research program, as a process of reflection and evalua-tion, based on the.Ignatian tradition of spiritual discernment" (4:72). Psy-chological or purely t~chnical procedures are not sufficient; we need a deter-mination to .really "find God," using all the means, objective and subjective, indiVi~dual and collective, social, political, and so forth, through which he manifestos his will to us. A process of this sort requires a special divine assistance and a constant effol:t on our part to rid ourselves of every inordinate affection. For that reason, the °decree very properly underlines the word "indifference," when it tells us: "The primary stress is on prayer and the effort to attain 'indiffer-ence,' that is, an apostolic readiness for anything" (72). The seriousness of this discernment 6alls for thos~e perfect dispositions that St. Ignatius demands' inthe election, that culminating point in his Exer-cises. This .is a divine-human, personal, ecclesial act, inserted into the one plan of salvation that leads to the building up of the Kingdom of Christ in time, and comes, even now,~under eschatological judgment. St. Paul d~fines Some Practical Reflections on the General Congregation / 681 it: "Think+before you do anything; hold on,to what is good and avoid every form of evil" (1 Th 5,21~22)., .4 This~Pauline discernment is not~only a key to the New Testament; it is also a key for apostolic planning in the exercise of our :~'mission," remind-ing us of the interplay of divine grace and human freedom in Christian ilife. Thus the apostle feels integrated into salvation history, associated with the central kairos of the Incarnation and Resurrection, and:the final eschatologi-cal~ kairos. Understood in this,way, discernment explains and renews the meaning of,Ignatian solid pruden(e, "discreet charity," And thus the "mis-sion" received under0obedience can be applied concretely to the different and changeable situations of the problematic of today's world. At the same time, discernment is the great force that enables us" to grow spiritually,,in a rapid but solid way, since it obliges us to have our soul always inca disposition of total detachment from created things. As a conse-quence Of this active-passive "indifference,, discernment disposes the soul for the inspirations of the Spirit, no-matter .how they come or where ~they come-from. In particular, it disposes the soul for that basic inspiration of faith,~ hope and "discreet charity" that awakens it to desire the magis, i.e., to choose always what is better, what iS~"~.'God's will'here and now." An ac-tive indifference, always seeking the'magis, is, indeed, the Ignatian equiva-lent~ of ~"finding God in all things," or as Nadal put it in a dense and pro-found, phrase, the "contemplativus in actione" (contemplative in action). In addition to this inner disposition of Spirit, so necessary for a real dis-cernment, we also need as complete and deep a knowledge as possible of the reality that is the object of our .discernment, so that we can discover in that reality the expression of God's will f6r the world. To discover this, we need, first of all, a real "conscientization,, or critical contact with reality; and after that, an "insertion," an "evaluation," and finally an "incultura-tion." The basic elements of.,this process of discernment and conscientization, of insertion and inculturation~ are described briefly in Octogesima adveniens, which the 32nd General Congregation. quoted. They are: experience, re-flection, choices, action,, a constant reciprocal relationship. These are steps that lead, by their own inner force, to a "change in our.thought patterns and a conversion of souls and hearts so that we can make apostolic decisions" (4:73). ¯ Conscientization To know thoroughly the reality that we meet or in which we live, we need more than a superficial glance at it in a random contact, or a one-time experience of that reality. "Knowing thoroughly"means going beyond a mere spontaneous grasp, to a critical understanding. Real conscientization is a critical insertion into historical reality. This obliges man to accept the role of a subject who makes the world---or better, remakes it. It forces man to 6112 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 create his existence out of the material that life offers him. This is based, naturally, on the human capacity to work consciously on reality: hence conscientization necessarily includes the combination of our reflection on the world and our action on it. It also follows from this that real conscientization has to be a process constantly in act, so that the new reality that is evolving can in turn be grasped in a new conscientization, which again will produce a still newer reality. It is an ongoing process; conscientization is always creative. "Think-ing of the new reality as something-untouchable is simplistic and reactionary, just as much as saying that the old reality was untouchable; if men, as working beings, continue to accept a 'made' world, they will very soon be plunged into a new darkness."' And so, as conscientization increases, the manifestation of.reality also increases, and the penetration of its phenomenological sense. If we merely contemplate reality, we are no more than false intellectualists. Without the binomial action-reflection, there can be no conscientization; in other words, there can be no conscientization apart from practical action. The dialectical unity "action-reflection" will always be man's most distinctive mode of being, his only effective way of changing the world (see ibid. 30). There has to be, therefore, an insertion into reality 'and a reflection on reality. This double function enables us to know and act on re.ality, which in turn then acts on us. In other words, the external reality that we change then changes us in our very. depths, and that very change makes us become "agents for change." This interaction is a manifestation and an effect of the intimate action of the Holy Spirit, who integrates, simultaneously and har-moniously, the progress of a pilgrim mankind toward its true fatherland and each one's growth in divine life that the Spirit cbmmunicates to him. Insertion To~ know reality, to change our attitudes and achieve a true discern-ment, we must first be inserted into reality in an effective way, When I speak of insertion, I am referring to a real, critical insertion among the men of today, in order to create and shape society in an evangelical way. A genuine, insertion thus requires a change of personal attitude, the giving up, under many aspects, of our manner of being, thinking and acting, so we can understand and come closer to the new realities that we want to evangelize. It is a real problem of life and experience, which gives us a special profound and realistic knowledge which makes us solidary with men, particularly with the poor and the weak. Scripture itself and the entire theology of evangelization invite us to this insertion: "To become all things to all men" (1 Co 9, 22), to make other 1(See Paulo Freire, Conscientizaci6n [Sp. version], 2a ed., 30-36, in Coll. Educaci6n hoy, 4, Asociaci6n de publicaciones educativas, Bogot~i). ~ Some Practical Reflections on the General Congregation / 6113 people's problems ours, "to make ourselves servants of others" (Decree 2". 29), to. be "segregatus in evangelium" ["specially chosen to preach the Good News"] (Rom 1, 1), and to become the "salt of the earth" (Mt 5, 13). For that re.ason, the 31st Congregation recommended that our residences be built and set up among workers and the most downtrodden classes, so that Ours, spending their lives with the poor Christ, may [thus] practice their various apostolates (27: 8). This insertion or "incarnation" means solidarity with those who suffer, even to being identified with their lives. Here we find the most profound meaning of the poverty of the poor Christ, whom we want to imitate and follow. That phrase of the Exercises that describes our contemplation "as if I were actually present" (Ex 114)~-takes on a vivid meaning that re-flects the gospel words: "What you did to the least of my brothers, you did to me" (M~ 25, 40). If we juxtapose St. Ignatius's tw.o key lines from the Exercises: "What shall I do for Christ?" (Ex 53) and "being poor with the poor Christ" (Ex 167), with those words of Christ: "What you did to the least of my brothers, you did to me," everything takes on a new light, whose brilliance shakes our consience. It_is the apparition of Christ among the poor, his real presence among them.: This reality of Christ in the world of today plays a decisive role in our choice of ministries and in our lives. "Have we realized that conversion to Christ implies a conversion to our neighbor, particularly our most abandoned neighbor? This requires a change of mentality that is not at all easy, a change of attitude and of life on the personal, collective and apostolic level. In a word, it transports us. to the heart of the painful tension of the election" (ibid. 199). Not every insertion has~ the value and meaning of a truly apostolic in-sertion. To see if our insertion is apostolic, we will have to look for some of its characteristic features. First of all, it should be evangelical, i.e., inspired and guided by the Gospel, by the spirit of the Gospel, which we find in the Beatitudes, in the cross and the resurrection of Christ. On the contrary, an insertion inspired by radicalism or a revolutionary spirit, one seeking class struggle or vindica-tion, one that exalts itself, regarding itself as a model far better than any other, is not the insertion a religious should seek. In practice, we often lose sight of our evangelical spirit, even though we~protest that our aim is to "evangelize." Sec6nd, this insertion should be apostolic, i.e., inspired by an apostolic motivation and idealism, not by merely sociological or humanitarian con- ~iderations, which are a completely different thing. It has to be rooted in '-'(See J. ,Alfaro, "Ejercicios y Constituciones: Unidad Vital," in Mensajero, Bilbao, 1974, 195-199). 61~4 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/5 faith, built on prayer, purified of all,selfishness. Such an attitude cannot be had from natural forces alone, but comes only from the force of the Spirit. Third, the insertion of the religious has to be the expression of a mission, that is, something more than the fruit of one's own ideas or some project oil-one's own. It has to be the object of a mission that follows, under obedi-ence, God's will, rather than the whims of a self-appointed group thatmakes independent decisions, ignoring or opposing those of their superiors. It must be the result of mission precisely conferred or approved by Obedience. A true insertion requires a series of qualities in the individual or the community: ,. --First of all, it calls for humility and conversion, i.e.; the desire of leading a more evangelical life and the recognition of one's own limita-tions, without considering oneself superior to anyone--and especially without~judging anyone, even if exteriorly he may seem to be leading a less evangelical life. --Second,. such an insertion calls for a clear sense o] one's identity, inas, much as the harsh experiences that can come to those who live such an insertion, and the observance of others' sufferings and injustices can strike us in so forceful and passionate a way as to take away our re-ligious and evangelical sense and lead us to adopt' positions and atti-tudes foreign to the Institute to which we belong. --Third, to be truly and solidly inserted, we need a well'integrated personality, capable of resisting the "shock" caused by the effort of adapting to a very different set of surroundings. Not a few.religious~men and women, full of generosity but without a solidly integrated personal-ity, have lost their vocations because of this "shock," and h'ave then succumbed to irreparable crises. -~Fourth, we need a solid [ormation. Some'have to learn to experience this insertion in surroundings and situations that are not sufficiently formed for that level of hardship. A full insertion into new s.urroundings calls for a very'solid and balanced formation,'which'usually takes a long time and experience. Only a serious preparation can give su~cient maturity and ability to integrate all the elements of the apostolic pro-cess: experience-reflection-choice-action. With it, the insertion can be kept within proper limits and will allow the maximum .of productivity. --Fifth, it requires serious reflection. Experience alone is not enough; it has to be tested by reflection, without which we can never have opti-mum results and avoid the mistakes due to either excess°or deficiency. Reflection on the concrete experience will expand o~r understanding of the situation, and will suggest the proper options find the changes that must be made for a more. effective apostolate. That is, it will make our action not only tend in the right direction, but have some likelihood of continuing and succeeding; too. Some Practical Reflections on the General Congregation / 685 ¯ ---Sixth,~-we need~ close collaboration with others. A genuine insertion invites and produces such collaboration. It is a stimulus and an apt means for fitting into the overall pastoral plan and activities of other groups and sectors. -z-Seventh, we need pluralism. Insertion needs and introduces a broad pluralism in the sense that modes of service have to be different urider differing circumstances. Insertion is not limited to a particular social stratum, e.g., the poor, but takes in all worlds: intellectual, univei'sity, ~ ,.professional, cultural, infracultural, etc. ~ If all these conditions are verified, the insertion will be 'much more ef-fective, organic and "differentiated: W~ will avoidduplications--and 6mis-" sions--of projects and methods for ~vhich, others~ are better qualified; each one will ,produce to the maximiam, having found his plac.e in the overall pastoral' plan of the local and universal Church. This insertion can also resolve the tension betweenthose who learn and those who teach, because, as experience shows, p~articularly in times of rapid change, life and human contact, even with the less cultured and humbler," are a "marvelous school, in which we learn from others th~it very lofty science, the "science of man," which we can never acquire without this contact with reality and every-day life. Insertion will make us feel the need to be always in the posture of a disciple, which is indispensable .for the apostle working for contemporary man in the world of today. Eyaluation TO ~be able to make an objective and effective discernment, so we can give to our labors, 6ur projects and institutions a new orientation, we need not only conscientization iihd insertion, but an~evaluation of our activitie~ too. Decree 4 suggests this to us very clearly: "Where do'we live? Where do we work? How? With whom? What, in the final analysis, really is our in-volvement with, dependence on, or commitment tO ideologies, or to those who wield power? Is it only to the converted that we know how to preach ,Jesus, Christ? These are some Of the questions w~ should ask about ourselves individually, as well as about our commumtles and restitutions (4:74). It0is very important to evaluate~ our acti~'ities and our works. We are urged to make such an evaluation by Decrees 4, 6 and ]5: "Our Mission Today," "The Formation of Jesuits," and "Ceritral Government." Our evalu-ation would consist in analyzing the quantity and quality of the results we are obtaining, in relation to our.objectives, in, order to have some'idea of their effectiveness. Evaluation presupposes that we have'logically ~¢ell-defined goals, suffi-ciently recognized as such.- : o Unfortunately, the Society has not always stopped to evaluat~ its work, or at least it has not always done so with precision, scientifically. Usually, 6116 / Review ]or Religious, l/olume 35, 1976/5, it has.gone about this effort in an improVised and haphazard fashio.n, mak-ing obvious, superficial judgments that do not enable us to reach valid con-clusions. What is more, we seem to be afraid of such evaluations at least subconsciously, considering them a threat. When they are asked to rate their efforts, some feel threatened and called into question, as though such a re-quest implied a negative judgment or a challenge to the project in which they are engaged. But an evaluation is the indispensable means for being able to upgrade. our projects. If in certain cases it should turn.out that a certain project.ought to be revised or disappear completely because it no longer accomplishes its purpose,~ or because ~it blocks projects of ~greater importance, that is the moment for Ignatian indifference. Indeed, why should ~we keep a work going that once upon,a time was co~astructive, but now has become an ob-stacle? The sufferings we naturally feel when told to give up some work are not against indifference; they are an understandable human reaction, a normal manifestation of the love we feel for a project on which we' have ~pent.ourselves, perhaps for many years. But such an evaluation has to be made. The argument from authority comes into play here, since not only GC 32, but the Holy Father, too, wants such evaluations (Acta Romana XVI, 432). Moreover, experience a.nd the intrinsic value of making periodic evaluations also. urge us,to make them, if we want to be consistent with the Ignatian magis which bids us always to offer the greatest possible service of God. The 32nd General Congregation recommends, therefore, that "there should be a definite mechanism for the review of our ministries" (4:77). This mechanism is the indispensable condition,.for having an evaluation, and hence a rational "choice of ministries and sel~ting of priorities and pro-grams" (4:75). The congregation therefore added: "Now is a good time to examine critically how these arrangements are working and, if need be, to replace them by others that are more effective and allow for a wider participation in the process of communal discern, ment" (4:77). The data proyided by an evaluation of this sort will be most helpful and even essential for knowing thoroughly the works to be examined by an apostolic discernment, and they will enable u

Issue 24.2 of the Review for Religious, 1965. ; The Major Superior an~ Her Subjects' Vocation by Charles A. Schleck, C.S.C. 161 Approach to Mental Prayer by Thomas Dubay, S.M. 188 To Be Samaritans All by Michael M. Dorcy, S.J. 201 The Insecure Junior Sister by Sister Jean de Milan, S.G.C. 209 The Prayer of Christ by Yves M.-J. Congar, O.P, 221 Weep--There Is No Other Way by George A. Maloney, S.J. 239 Nun in the World by Mother M. Claudia, I.H.M. 244 Conte.mplation by Ladislas M. Ors'j, S.J. 248 The Superior as Community Counselor by Sister Angelina Marie, C.D.P. 265 For Teresa, Dying of Cancer by T. J. Steele, S.J. 273 Survey of Roman Documents 274 Views, News, Preview~ 280 Questions and Answers 286 Book Reviews 293 VOLUV_~ 24 NUMBER 2 March 1965 ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. William J. Weiler, S.J" DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answers Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Woodstock College Woodstock, Mar~l~md o~ i63 Book Reviews ~ormtm Weyand, S.J. Bellarmine School of Theology of Loyola University o30 South Lincoln Way North Aurora, Illinois 6o543 ÷ ÷ Edited with ecclesiastical approval by the faculty of St. Mary's College, the Divinity School of St. Louis University. Published bi-monthly and copyright, 1965, by Review for Religious at 428 East Preston St., Baltimore, Md. 21202. Printed in USA. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland. Single copies: 60 cents. Subscription USA and Canada: $3.00 a year, $5.75 for two years; other countries: $3.35 a year. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order. Checks and money orders should be made payable to Review for Religious in U. S. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to repre-sent Review for Religious. Change of address requesta should include former address. Renewals, new subscriptions, changes of ad-dress and business corres~ondence should be sent to: Review for Religious, 428 E. Preston Strut, Baltimore, Maryland 21902. Manu-scripts and editorial correspondence should be sent to: Review for Religious, St. Mary's College, St. Mary's, Kausa~ 66536. Quesdous and books for review should be sent to the respective departmental editors. MARCH I 965 VOLUME o4 NUMBER ~ CHARLES A. SCHLECK, C.S.C. The Major Superior and the Meaning of Her Subjects' Vocation If* one were to investigate the various pontifical docu-ments having special reference to religious communities, he would find them often referring to these as "fami-lies." This seemingly simple expression contains within itself a whole host of suggestions, and in the end would seem to be the nucleus for the spirit (and this would include even the government) and spirituality of every religious community. For these, as we know, have their existence and strength from their communion and inti-mate connection with the end of the Church itself--to lead men to the acquisition of holiness. And how im-portant they are for the life of the Church has been clearly stated by Pope Pius XII in rather striking and forceful terms: The Church would not fully correspond to the will of our Lord, nor would the eyes of the majority of men be raised to her in hope and joy as a standard set up unto the nations or as a sign standing in the heavens, unless there were found in her some who more by example than by word, were especially re-splendent with the beauty of the Gospel? This role of the religious community is not at all foreign to the economy of salvation established by God. All communication between God and man has tended to adopt a sacramental medium--language, representa- ¯ In the summer of 1962 Father Schleck gave a series of six lectures to the Conference of Major Superiors of the United States. The pres-ent article is a revised version of the first of these conferences. The other five conferences will be published in revised form in later issues of the REVI£W. 1Address to Superiors General, February 11, 1958, in The States o] PerIection, ed. Gaston Courtois (Westminster: Newman, 1962), pp. 317-8. Fr. Charles A. Schleck, C.8.C., teaches theology at Holy Cross College; 4001 Harewood Road, N.E.; Wash-ington, D.C. 20017. VOLUME 24, 161 ÷ ÷ ÷ Cha~es A. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16~ tion, the written or the spoken word, events, customs, even garb and dress. It is in this work, that is, in bring-ing before men the visible mark of holiness characteriz-ing and setting off the true Church of Christ, that religious superiors, especially major superiors, are as-sociated with the Church and her bishops and sovereign pontiff, either by receiving jurisdiction as is true of ~nale exempt orders, or by receiving dominative power by reason oF the approbation of the rules and constitu-tions peculiar to a religious institute.2 Thus, while it is the work of the Holy Spirit to begin, and to nourish and foster, and to bring to consummation the work of grace or of God's special love for those called to the religious life, still He associates with Himself in this work and service, so-called secondary causes or auxiliary instruments in whom He wishes to incarnate His own power and love and through whom He wishes this to be communicated to others. It is for this reason that the Apostle Peter writes: Whatever the endowment God has given you, use it in service to one another like good dispensers of God's mercy; if one does some service, let him do it with the strength which God sup-plies, so that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ? In you, however, this governing role was meant to take definite shape and form. This is evident from the very nature of a religious community which we have called, just above, a family. For a family is a group of persons ruled or governed by those who have been established over it by God--a father and a mother. And this is most important for our present considerations. For the characteristic virtue of family life is not legal justice, or human activity on a quid pro quo basis, but rather piet)~, a potential part of the virtue of justice, adding to it the modification which is brought about by the intimacies and warmth of family life. It is the virtue of justice, we might say, with a heart. For all of you the manner of governing that is to be looked for and expected by all, both those inside the religious life and those outside, even those who view your communi-ties from a distance, must always be that of a woman, a mother. Indeed the title which all or most of you bear quite clearly indicates this wish and ardent hope of the Church and the entire family oF God. This title is at one and the same time the measure and indicator oF your function and task and also the measure oF the crowning glory which God intends for each of you in assigning you your particular role in the Church. For if it is He who elects you or appoints you to your task as He did Ibid. 1 Pt 4:10-1. the Mother of the Lord, He at the same time, as He did for her, makes available for you all the graces both ac-cording to their extension and intensity that are de-manded in the work entrusted to you.4 God made every woman by nature generous, merciful, and compassion-ate; and He gave her the desire to offer herself for others. He implanted in her as her essential spirit and movement the spirit of giving, of molding, of forming, of clothing whatever she touches, of mothering it, and of loving it. And the most noble aspect of this mother-hood is the lifting up of those persons she calls her children to God. That is why the motherhood officially given to you by the Church is the most sublime that could possibly be given to any woman. In a religious community of sisters the governing power is given into the hands of women that they as mothers might lead those under them to the common goal of the entire Christian community--the eternal participation of the body-person of Christ in the mar-riage feast of the Lamb. The role of anyone entrusted with shepherding others has very well been pointed out by Isaiah: It is thine to restore those bound in darkness to freedom and light; it is thine to pasture the flock of God and provide feeding grounds for them as they make their way through barren up-lands. Under your care they will neither hunger nor thirst, nor will the heat of the noon-day sun overpower them. For you will be to them a merciful shepherd that will lead them to welling fountains and give them to drink of life-giving water? In you this shepherding assumes a rather well-defined mode of expression. It is to be accomplished in accord-ance with the precise externalization which human nature takes in its being found in women rather than in men. It is precisely by using the qualities and gifts peculiar to women that you make your service contribu-tion to the glory of God and to the welfare of His Church and of your own communities. And this service contribution which you make to these ends is most im-portant today. For the Church was meant to be a mighty organization, hierarchical, structured, full of honor and dignity, having its laws and penalties and the power to enforce them. But the Church was also meant to be a Mother, patient, kind, gentle, tender, full of understanding and compassion. Both you and your subjects are always at hand to remind the Church of this maternal aspect of her mission. It is more than evident from the many writings that have appeared on the subject in recent years that a woman called to the religious life is not at all deprived See Summa theologiae, 3, q.27, a.4. h 49:44. ÷ ÷ ÷ Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 ]63 ÷ 4. ÷ Charles A. SchCle.c~k.C, . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 164 of motherhood. Rather she is called to exercise this function of her being in a much more intensive and ex-tensive manner than is possible in marriage. It is a motherhood that nourishes and molds and centers its whole activity on the life of Christ. By the grace of her vocation she receives in a single fulfillment the two deepest longings of a woman's heart--her woman's desire for motherhood, and her virgin's desire to be wholly God's, wholly surrendered to Him. All this is quite clear in the case of the ordinary religious sister. But I wonder how often those called to exercise supreme authority in service within religious communities of women realize that they are not at all dispensed from this work of woman but rather are called to exercise a more noble and more universal expression of this same function. They are called by God's providence to exer-cise this same activity in reference to the "more illustri-ous portion of the flock of Christ," those who by God's special predilection and love have been called to the vocation of virginity, which is the marriage of a human person with the Lord. Like the work of the Mother of God in redemption, yours is that of associate, con-tributing under the Spirit and with the Spirit to the work of your subjects' sanctification as Mary did in reference to the Church--as a partner, as a woman, and as a mother. In Christ we are given to see that all is priestly. In Mary we are given to see that all is womanly, all is motherly. Her role in the sanctification of the human race was different from that of Christ. Her "merit," her sacrificial oblation, her ransom, all were those of a woman, a mother. She worked along with Christ her Son, but not as an equal, not as one engaged in the same order of operation. Her office was addi-tional, complementary. It is true that oftentimes this work is most difficult, much more diffficult than the motherhood exercised by your subjects. But the greater the motherhood to which one is called, the more suffering and the more participa-tion in the cross-mystery must she expect to fall to her lot. Nor is this so strange. It will always be true that a mother's greatest suffering is interior, that which cen-ters around the emotions, that which involves anxiety, worry, and concern. And usually it comes only at the end of her function when she finds herself no longer in complete control of the minds and hearts of the persons under her, when she must deal with them no longer as children but as mature adults destined to their own proper creativity and life. Since this is always the situa-tion in which major superiors are called to exercise their office of ministry and service, they know with their election or appointment the rather difficult phase of motherhood to which the5, are called. It was because of this difficulty that the late sovereign pontiff Pius XII attemped to recall the image which the major superior must attempt to cultivate in the eyes of her religious: It is no doubt true, as psychology affirms, that the woman in-vested with authority does not succeed as easily as a man in finding the exact formula for combining strictness with kind-ness, and establishing the balance between them. This is an added reason for cultivating your motherly sentiments. You can say that the vows have exacted from your Sisters as from your-selves a great sacrifice. They have renounced their family, the happiness of marriage and the intimacy of the home. It is a sacrifice of great value, of decisive importance for the apostolate of the Church, but it is still a sacrifice. Those of your Sisters who are the most high-souled and refined, are the ones who feel this detachment most keenly. The words of Christ "no one put-ting his hand to the plough and looking back is fit for the king-dom of God" finds its application to the full, and nowadays, too, without reserve. But the religious order must take the place of the family as far as possible, and it is you, the superiors general, who are expected in the first instance to breathe the warmth of family affection into the community life of the Sisters. You must, therefore, yourselves be motherly in your exterior behavior, in your words and your writings, even if sometimes this calls for the exercise of self-restraint; but above all, be motherly in your innermost thoughts, your judgments, and as far as possible, your sympathetic feeling. Pray every day to Mary the Mother of Jesus and our mother, to teach you how to be motherly." It is quite evident that your motherhood is to reflect and in a sense continue to image that of Mary. And Mary's motherhood is one that is pure, stainless, free from every trace of contamination of the shadow, of the terrible aspect of the mother-image, of the destructive wiles of the "anima," of the desire to possess or be un-scrupulous in protecting and reducing to childishness the creative powers of those under her, of refusing to give them up to their destiny which is for them also, each in her turn and each according to her own way, to give fruit to the life of the Church of God. Thus your motherhood centers around women, not girls; and it must never become maternalistic or harmful or destruc-tive to their legitimate growth as distinct persons, to their adjustments to society and adult life. It is the proper task of a real mother to foster her daughter's competence and well-defined independence, rather than their opposites. To accomplish this task many things ought to be found in you. First, there should be a workable knowl-edge of the principles of spiritual theology, of the ~ Address to Superiors General, September 15, 1952, in The States o[ Per/ection, p. 217. 4. 4. Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 ÷ ÷ ÷ Charles A. Schleck, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 166 history and forms of the religious life in history, an experiential knowledge and almost the founder's or foundress' love for your own religious community, its constitutions, its customs, the authors of its spirituality, and its activities or apostolates. To this there shouId also be added a practical knowledge of the canon law governing religious communities of women, a practical knowledge of feminine psychology, and some principles of guidance. Second, there should also be present a discretion or prudence that is like wisdom, reaching from end to end. This would include tact, winning manners, knowledge of the human heart at its various levels of development--the young, the mature, the mid-die- aged, and the old. This discretion and prudence for our present consideration will also include a motherly vigilance, a dispassionate firmness that is without weak-ness, the ability to foresee and anticipate the needs of soul and body, an unfailing patience, and a zeal that is tem-perate, that knows how to wait and to seek out or receive those who come to you moved by God's grace. A third element or ingredient that you should possess is experi. ence, of the various apostolates, actually exercised if pos-sible or at least vicarious, of the problems and the diffi-culties they normally cause to religious; also an experience and awareness of human failings, not the least of which are your own failings and half-acknowledged shortcom-ings, a grasp of your assets and liabilities which would give you a proper and ordered self-love, with the desire to employ the former and guard against and make up for the latter, through the normal channels of the Christian life, not the least of which is consultation and personal direction. Finally, genuine holiness ol lile is required. For you ought to be not so much a teacher or one who hands out practical rules of life, of doing, and of making, nor just an interpreter of your community's spirit, but first and foremost a master of its life. For it is your privilege and obligation to see to it that the young life which God entrusts to you is begun correctly, or brought to birth in the novitiate, and then formed and made viable in your juniorates, and matured and intensified and deepened throughout the entire course of its existence in your religious family. For the motherhood with which you are entrusted by the Church does not end until you are relieved of your responsibility or until one or other of your subjects closes her eyes in death in order to greet her Lord in life. The perpetuity and continuation of a fervent community (and the life and vitality of the Church depends more upon this than upon numbers) rests with the major superiors' capacity to maintain and deepen in their subjects the spirit of the Church and of the founder or foundress whose exemplary causes they are meant to be.7 In treating of this quality or ingredient of holiness last, it is not my intention to consider it as the least important of all. Second to prudence it occupies the most important place perhaps. Knowledge in itself is not fruitful. It must be united with love. And how else can religious be taught the ways o[ God, schooled in the Lord's service if their own superiors do not possess these? You must remember that your subjects have entered religion in order to seek sanctity according to this way of life. And this is to be learned from those who are set over them in the intinaacy of their community life. It is along this line that much more stress could be laid today. The quality of the teaching of any master of the Christian life--and this is the primary role of superiors: to lead her subjects to sanctity--will be that of her own life. A young and generous soul will find no better way to learn renuncia-tion or surrender through charity than by following in the path of one who herself is practicing these same things. A secret strength goes out from her and is in some way imparted to those who come in contact with her. The ability to love the religious life and to instill this love into others is most important today when it is so easy not only for those outside the religious life, but even for those inside, to be or to become confused in their "vision of the special function and immutable im-portance of the religious state within the Church." s The primary work of a superior is to teach her subjects how to love God, how to make the gift of oneself the surrender of one's personal mystery to God and the service of the Church, a living reality. Since the religious life is essentially a theologal life, a life of faith, hope, and love, and a sacramental repre-sentation of the transcendent goal of the Christian community--the paschal mystery--it is important that these be lived by those in charge. No long dissertation or reasoning or logic will affect others on these points. The superior must live these, for it is only by being a living exemplar of them that she can really hope to exert her teaching on others. As St. Gregory the Great writes: Like Moses, a superior ought to be seen frequently going in and out of the tabernacle and while there caught up in con-templation such that when she comes out she may give hersel[ over to the needs of her subjects and tasks. She must be known as one who truly serves God and His Church.' T See The Gilts o[ the Holy spirit (Notre Dame: St. Mary's College, 1961), pp. 1 ft. 8Address to All Religious, May 23, 1964; N.C.W.C. ed., pp. 6-7. 8Pastoral Care, II, 5 ("Ancient Christian Writers," v. 11 [West-minster: Newman, 1950], pp. 56-8 passim. 4. Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 167 + + Charles A. $chleck, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 168 Such a life would be appreciated by almost all who saw it. It would be like the light shining on the moun-tain or the city built thereon. And this is as it should be. For while a superior should not seek the praise of others in conducting herself, this does not mean that she should not seek to be loved; but she should seek this in order that this love might prove to be a path leading to the Lord. It is most ditIicult for one who is not loved by her subjects, however well she might preach, or exhort, and provide logic for the life o[ holiness, to find a sym-pathetic hearing from those who make up her audience. "!'his exhortation to holiness is always most timely for anyone in at~thority. Often it happens that when a person undertakes the cares o[ government her heart becomes distracted by the many things demanding her attention. And then she may find that she neglects that which is most important. For when one in authority implicates herself more than is needful with what is external, it is as though she were so occupied with the actual journey that she forgets the destination. The net result is that she becomes a stranger to self-examination and is no longer aware of her own faults and the great harm that is perhaps being given to others. The care of the inner life cannot be relaxed for the sake of pre-occupying herself with external matters. On the other hand respect for the inner life should not bring about any neglect of the external either, for this is also an essential means of her sanctification and her service of Christ and His Church.a° This balance should be main-tained above all by the major superiors of religious communities. Otherwise, it is most likely that the life of her subjects will grow languid because even though they may wish to make spiritual progress, they are con-fronted with a stumbling block in the example of those over them. When the head languishes, it is rather diffi-cult for the members to retain their vigor. It is in vain that an army seeking victory over the enemy follows its leader if she has lost her way. While the office to which you have been chosen by divine providence lays upon you many duties and func-tions- administrator, organizer, pioneer, missionary, counselor, psychologist, financier (a kind of jack-of-all-trades)-- the one which overshadows all and which sub- 10 This need of the major superior, indeed of every superior, is one more reason why superiors should employ the rule of subsidiarity-- the tendency to delegate and subdelegate, especially in large institu-tions. St. Gregory again provides us with the pertinent text: "Subjects are to transmit inferior matters, so that superiors are left to fre-quently attend to the higher things, so that the eye which is set above for guiding the steps of the body may not be annoyed by dust. For all superiors are the heads of their subjects and should look forward that the feet may not go astray" Pastoral Care, pp. 68, ft. sumes them and colors them or affects them is that of being a woman and mother at the service of the com-munity. Only to the degree that this spirit permeates these functions will they be conducive to your own holi-ness, to that of your community, and to that of the Church.lz Of all these various services, however, the one which is most immediately connected with mother-hood by reason of the very nature of the society which you govern and direct is that of seeing to the spiritual development of your religious. In the series of confer-ences that we are engaged upon here, it is this aspect of your special "vocation" within a vocation that has fallen to me. By reason of the limitation of time and the vast-ness of the pertinent matter on this subject, only a few basic considerations along these lines can be taken up. They are meant to serve as directives and approaches which each of you might follow up through reading and prayer and consultation in regard to the same and other topics falling within the scope of this task. It was sug-gested by one of the members of the executive com-mittee that the areas of the vows, especially the positive aspects, and that of the apostolate might be treated. As a result the following general topics have been chosen, each, of course, with its necessary further delineations: (1) the major superior and the vocation of her subjects; (2) religious poverty and sanctification; (3) virginity and sanctification; (4) religious obedience and sanctification; (5) common life and sanctification; and (6) the apostolate and sanctification. In following out these considerations it will be my intention wherever possible to treat them both from the point of view of theory and practice, at least along general lines, such that the practice may be seen to flow out of and be governed by the theory of the topic dis-cussed. It is true that most of the problems which you encounter in the course of your ministry are of a practi-cal nature, demanding practical and concrete or down-to- earth decisions. Still it seems to me that unless you are acquainted with the directive principles which pru-nA similar idea was indicated by Pius XII in reference to the spirit which should underlie the use of canon law: "Canon law like everything else in the Church is wholly directed to the care of souls, so that by the aid and guidance of laws, too, men may secure the pos-session of the truth and grace of Christ, and may live, grow, and die in holiness, piety, and fidelity to faith. Whether in the administration of ecclesiastical affairs, or in the exercise of judicial functions, or in giving the benefit of his advice to the sacred ministers, or the faithful, the canonist should constantly recall to mind that he must render an account for the welfare of souls to whom he can render great services, but to whom he can also do great harm" (Address on the Fourth Cen-tenary of the Gregorian University, October 17, 1953, in The Catholic Priesthood, ed. Pierre Veuillot [Westminster: Newman, 1957], bk. 2, pp. 270-1). ÷ ÷ ÷ Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 169 4, + + Charles A. Schleck, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 170 dential judgment has to follow in coming to a decision affecting an existential here-and-now situation, it is very easy to be or to become confused (especially by reason of the complicated circumstances of today's religious life) and so arrive at a decision which would not be the best. Such a decision could easily inflict a sometimes serious harm, if not immediately at least in the future, to the lives of not only individuals but also that of your entire community and to the very life of the Church itself. It could also harm the image and therefore the effectiveness of the religious sister who occupies a more respected place here in our own country than perhaps in any other place in the world. The Major Superior and the Meaning of the Vocation of Her Subjects It is axiomatic that the whole order of grace has been ordered by God and is communicated to man in accord-ance with the nature he possesses. Thus the subject or person receiving divine communication will incarnate it and make it visible, will show its effects in a way that is patterned after the very nature of the subject. The very nature of God and His love-relationship to man were meant to be reflected not only in Christ but in all of those who would be incorporated into His body-person, the Church. For the Church is the sacramental continuation of Christ who is the perfect self-expression o~ the Father. She is His body, flesh of His flesh and bone of His bone, as we find foreshadowed already in Genesisa2 and stated by St. Paul in his letter to the Ephesians.~3 While human nature is essentially or fun-damentally the same in both man and woman, we find it existing in each of them with profound differences and modes of expression. And this foundation and the deepest significance of this sexual polarity originates not just in nature alone or from God as the author of nature, but in the supernatural sphere or from God as the author of man's supernatural existence. According to the Bible, it is in the polarity of man and woman where we find the image and likeness of God, in fact so much so that only in man and woman taken together do we find and discover what one author has called "the blessed icon of God." In fact it would seem that we must conclude that the physical and biological differences which we find exist-ing between man and woman indicate or point to some-thing much more profound, and that is the difference of soul or human spark, the difference of personality, which exists on all and every level of their being-- ~ Gn 2:23. ~8 Eph 5:22 ft. intellectual, volitional, and emotional, as well as physi-cal and biological. Consequently, when God's grace-communication incarnates itself in woman it takes on a shape and form different from that found in man, and it expresses itself along very well-defined lines. Thus, to understand and to be able to guide or direct or form or shape or mold the life and dynamism of the woman in the order of grace, demands that one know what she is in the order of nature.14 If we were to analyze or look into the overall makeup of woman on all the levels mentioned above, we would see first of all that she is much more alTective or love-directed than man in her approach to reality. It is for this reason that she tends towards the personal and the living. To cherish, to keep, and to protect what is per-sonal and living--this is her natural, her authentically feminine propensity.15 She was created by God to be the complement of man, subject to him in domestic or family life. She was to be the heart and soul of man, of the human race, its vital force, like the human heart that moves the hnman body to action. She has received and she possesses human nature in such a way that its loving force, its receiving capacity, its conserving capacity, its pondering capacity, and its formative, molding capacity are rather strikingly manifest. Indeed it is because she possesses these capacities that she by reason of her entire personality, her body, her soul, her powers of under-standing, her capacity for love, her almost inexhaustible devotion, is made to mother the human race in one capacity or another. She is made to know it as only a mother can know it, in all of its depths, its sublime potentialities, and also in its most embarrassing and material and temporal needs. It is for this reason that God has endowed woman with a family instinct, a maternal instinct, which can be used to build a human family or something far more extensive, the family of man or the family of God. A woman is potentially mother not only in reference to individual beings, but in reference to nature as a whole, to the whole world. And this is rather important for us to recall. For once stress is laid upon this view of woman, her need and power to create in cooperation with man, it can be seen that this need and power is something that can quite easily go beyond the limited confines of the husband-wife couple and encompass all the relations existing between men and women in reference to the human family. This direct and intimate relationship with persons rather x'See F. X. Arnold, Man and Woman (New York: Herder and Herder, 1963). The entire work is excellent on this point. ~ The Writings o] Edith Stein, ed. Hilda Graef (London: Peter Own, 1956), p. 161. ÷ ÷ ÷ Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24~ "1965 '4" 4. Charles A. Schleck, C.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS than with things tends to make her world compact, which is not to be understood in the sense of narrow, but rather as a concentration on what is near at hand. And this is usually true even in her professional world if she lives in such, where she might happen to be an educator, a doctor, a social worker, or a nurse. She brings to this compact world where she functions warmth and a new atmosphere. From all this it should be clear that it is not right for woman to dodge or side-step this mission, to isolate her interests, to make her life too self-centered. She exists for humanity such that every talent she has received must be put at the dis-posal of the hnman family. This analysis of woman would also show that she is in.tuitive, that she has received human nature in such a way that its intuitive ability would be rather clearly set out. She was made to understand the deep sense of the inner values of things, of their spiritual content as well as or even more than their material or temporal con-tent. Thus in the sphere of her intelligence we find a profound difference between her and man. She usually has a finer perception, a better taste, a greater potenti-ality for sensibility and tact. She possesses a greater ability for visual perception, for the visual understand-ing of the world. Her senses are more open to external attractions. In fact it is this very power of observation that is a necessary complement of her intuition, since her judgment (good or bad) is formed by a rapid, almost simultaneous, look into and through the elements of a situation. It is because she is more intuitive that she was made to reveal the deep and the more profound levels of our being which she knows not so much by cold reason-ing or by speculation or by theoretical analysis, as by intuition, by instinct, by connaturality, by an identifica-tion, by a deep and warm knowledge that understands humanity much more intimately than does man. It is her mission to understand humanity, its weaknesses and infirmities, even its sins. It is her mission even to sympa-thize with these without ever, however, consenting to them. It is her mission to encourage, to prevent, to direct, not so much by governing or dominating--for in dominating she destroys both others and herself---as by being, by example, and by living. Thus the role of woman because she is intuitive is to suggest and inspire, not to be an activist principally, but rather a contempla-tive. She is expected to be intelligent but not opinion-ated, submissive but able to lead especially by urging to activity, unassertive but capable, intuitive but clear thinking, not over-active yet quietly efficient. It is in these ways that she is meant to redeem every situation by coming forward with her immense power to heal humanity by being its seer and its poet, and by so act-ing to achieve her place and fulfill herself. An analysis of woman would also indicate that she is more emotional than man; that the emotional side of her life is an essential part of it; that it is an integral part of her so-called "passivity"; that it is the goal, whether conscious or otherwise, of much of her en-deavor and striving. She is frequently preoccupied with surface agitation because of her need to give emotional satisfaction to others and to receive it in turn from them. It is this very deep need for receiving emotional satis-faction that also brings to the fore woman's need for another. She is dependent on others because she hopes to gain from them the security which satisfied emotional needs and wants effect in her. Unless a woman has found this other source of emotional satisfaction, or unless she has sublimated it in relation to a higher person and his interests, she becomes restless, unsatisfied, and frus-trated. She is made to love and to be loved, and she cannot find her sufficiency in herself. That is why a woman who is selfish and self-centered is an anomaly that is more distressing to encounter than a selfish man. For she has denied her nature, as it were, when she ceases to exist for others; and in doing this she has dried up at its source the possibility of those emotional experiences so vital to her person. This need for emotional satisfaction would also seem to account for the woman's impulse of self-surrender, her capacity to yield or to open herself to one who advances towards her with love. Deep down in her being woman knows that her role is one of submission, that only by renunciation can she become her true self. That is why an essential part of her person and her emotional need moves her to submit since this is fulfilled by such a re-sponse. And unless a woman can find one to whom she can submit in love, she will find that her love will not flower and that her emotional need will not be satisfied. This ingredient of self-surrender so evident in the woman's makeup must not be confused with pure pas-sivity as some often think. Woman is actively passive. Her activity is directed more towards the emanation of her personality, in her protection of and care for what she has received and conceived. Thus her person im-plies an active yielding and acceptance of what comes to her in love. It is this very quality which makes woman a unifying force in God's plan. For she is meant to act as an icon or image of humanity's attitude toward God. It is for this reason that we have running through the whole of salvation history the image of the woman pointing out again and again that humanity must be-come feminine before God, open to His advance, ready 4- + Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24 1965 4, 4, 4, Chades A. Schleck, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]?4 to be receptive, ready to yield to His every word and request. Thus it is the woman and not the man who is the archetype of humanity's relationship with God. She is symbolic of the only power which man has in reger-ence to God's love. Thus the childlike quality that we often find among women saints is not to be confused with a weak and playful infantilism. It is rather the longing for and the expression of that security which we can recognize as a rather profound condition of the finest women in history. Its essence is innocent confi-dence, based on that childlikeness which the Lord de-mands for the kingdom of heaven. It is the magnani-mous surrender of oneself, the total sacrifice of self, and unlimited confidence in God's power and fatherly goodness. Thus woman is a sign of faith taken in its biblical sense, faith which expects nothing from man, but relies wholly on God. When these ingredients of woman are found per-fectly in an individual, they would seem to present us with a picture of the divine idea of a human nature that is perfect and truly complete at least in reference to God. And they are found in one person, one woman, the Mother of God. Our Lady provides us not merely with a prototype or archetype of woman redeemed, but of mankind, humanity redeemed. This is the meaning of the Immaculate Conception. It is merely the revela-tion to us of the human being when still unfallen, of the undesecrated countenance of the creature man, of the perfect image of God in man as it existed when the "'fiat" of God's creative activity rested upon him in the dawn of his creation. Indeed what would seem to come from prolonged meditation on the purpose and image of Mary, what seems to sum up her entire personality is her simplicity, which is not so much a virtue as rather the culmination of her perfect and balanced harmonious activity. It is the expression of a real inward unity and purpose. It is opposed to multiplicity and diversity of aims and in-tentions. It is a life entirely directed to God. And sim-plicity is a mark of divinity or of the divine. Mary had a nature that was incapable of pretense, of going too far, or of stopping too short of the mark. She never added anything to what had to be said or done, nor did she ever subtract anything. That is why what we find most attractive in Mary is her complete self-possession in spite of the plethora of grace and divine favor that was given to her as the Mother of God and as the archetype of humanity. She always and everywhere preserved what was natural to her feminine makeup.16 That one person, one woman should be able to l~Ibid., p. 125. transcend the differentiation of the sexes before God is not an entirely unusual phenomenon. It has been said that many important personages such as geniuses and saints have been able to stand above this differentiation in sex, that they have been able to unite in themselves the qualities of both man and woman in a creative harmony. And we may well ask ourselves whether this transcending of natural barriers is not perhaps the highest effect of the workings of grace. If we were to study the treatise on God the Trinity, we would soon discover that the image of woman reflects rather closely that of the Third Person in the Godhead, the Holy Spirit. He is called Love, Breath or Kiss, Gift, and His operation in the economy of salvation is that of a mother-principle. He is called Love, the Person of Love in the Trinity because He proceeds by way of volitional activity in God. To fall into the realm of metaphysics for a moment, we might say that the pro-cession of love or rather that which proceeds through the activity of love proceeds as spirit; spirit, however, signifies or expresses a certain vital or life-giving move-ment and impulse. The activity of love produces an inclination or an out-going or a giving, and this is no less true in the case of the activity of love in God. Thus the Holy Spirit is movement, secret mysterious activity in His very Being, just as is love as found among crea-tures. That is why, perhaps, when He is described in Sacred Scripture it is always in terms and ideas and ex-pressions implying motion or movement--spiritus, that is, wind, breath, or breeze; or He is compared to a river or fountain that flows from the throne of the Lamb.17 It is for this reason that the fathers of the Church are fond of referring to the Holy Spirit as the breath or kiss of the Father and the Son, the most secret but sweet kiss. And this is quite correct. For a kiss is an expression of unity and a means to it. And if anywhere there is not only oneness of love, but also oneness of life be-tween persons, if anywhere lovers are of one spirit and are one spirit, surely this is true within the mystery of the Godhead. Between the Father and the Son there are not merely two lives that melt into one; there is only one life and one heart, one love-producing activity. Thus the breath or the kiss of the Father and the Son cannot be merely a vehicle or medium to procure unity of life in God; it is rather its expression. Hence the Father and the Son do not pour out their breath of life into each other by their kiss, but from the interior of their common heart they pour it into a third Person, one in whom the oneness of their love and their life is ~'See Jn 3:8; 7:38-9; 20:22-3; Ap 22:1 ff. Superior anal Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 175 ÷ ÷ ÷ Charles A. C.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 176 manifested and made visible or expressed.IS It is pre-cisely because He proceeds by way of love and is Love that the Holy Spirit is the most mysterious of the Per-sons in God. Love is much more ineffable than the activity of the mind. For while the latter produces a definite term, a word or an idea, the former, love, pro-duces no term but only a movement toward, an out-going. This is the reason why as soon as we try to de-scribe love we must have recourse to metaphors and similes as we find in the Canticle of Canticles or in the Sequence for the feast of Pentecost. Yet for all this note of movement which is attached to the Person of the Holy Spirit, He is never to be considered as restless or feverish in His quest for any object. Like the other two Persons of the Godhead He possesses all objects, being eternally within them. And like them He is "semper agens et semper quietus" to use a phrase of St. Augustine, always active and yet always at rest. Again, the Holy Spirit is called Gift, One who is to be possessed by the one to whom He is given. This implies that He Himself possesses an aptitude and readiness to be given or the ability and desire to give Himself. A gift, however, implies a free and gratuitous and unreturnable donation the motivating force of which is love. Thus the first thing that we give to another whom we truly and genuinely love is that love by which we wish what is most conducive to his personal well-being. Personal love, therefore, is the first gift that we give to another; and it is the root of all the other gifts that we might impart to this other, for example, the use of one's body in mar-riage. Thus in the life of grace, the first thing that God gives us is Himself, as Personal Love, as Gift, that can be possessed and enjoyed and freely so. From this it should be clear that in speaking of the Holy Spirit as the Gift, we do not intend to deny that in a sense the Word of God also can be said to be God's gift to man in the incarnation and again in the mystery of the divine indwelling. Yet the title would not be as properly the Word's as it is that of the Holy Spirit. Gift is that which proceeds by way o{ love activity, which notion as we have seen is proper to the Holy Spirit. Finally, when the Holy Spirit is sent on mission we see that it is always as sign and mother-principle. He is a sign of the divine renewal that takes place within us as a result of God's love--purity and charity; and He is also the forming principle uniting those who have been created according to the image and likeness of God with their Creator and Father. He is the Sanctifier or the bond linking up man with God. Thus His prerogatives ~s M. J. Scheeben, The Mysteries of Christianity (St. Louis: Herder, 19t7), pp, 183-4, 188, of Love and Gift are most strikingly evident in the work of man's sanctification. It is for this reason that one of the scholastic theologians mentions that when the hu-man person embraces God or surrenders himself to Him in grace, He receives the kiss of God's mouth and the breath of His Spirit. The powers of the person are made perfect and they are elevated to a higher plane of activity. And when this conversion or this turning to God or surrender to Him is intense, then this kiss is so completely efficacious that the individual drinking in God's Spirit becomes totally transformed by Him. And it is then with sobriety and modesty that this individual allows its love and giving to overflow on others according to their worth and necessity, not giving itself wholly over to them nor seeking them for itself but only for God. This we see in the case of the Church. For she was begun by the kiss of the divine mouth, the Holy Spirit proceeding from the mouth of God and embracing in His kiss the Father and Son. And she in turn exists only for one purpose--to communicate the kiss of the divine mouth to others.1~ From this it would seem logical to conclude that there is a very definite affinity or similarity, not perfect in every or all respects to be sure but at least in many, between the woman and the Holy Spirit, such that her mission when actually and really lived even in the natural order would partially imply her being a reflec-tion of God as Personal Love and Gift or Subsistent Breath. The ideas of love and gift and breath imply movement, an outgoing or communicating activity. And the woman is known for her ability to love and to give herself, to sacrifice herself for the benefit of others, to surrender herself in total donation. And she is also known for her ability to urge on gently, irresistibly, and persuasively, like a soft ocean breeze bellying a ship's sails and moving it to port. Certainly this is the work of the Holy Spirit through His gifts and His own presence in man; and this would also seem to be the role of woman--to be a strong yet gentle impulse urging the whole of humanity on to its last goal, communion with the beloved. And finally the woman is mother-principle, or the one to whose lot it falls to communicate flesh and blood or to be at the service of life; and what she gives, life, she is meant to give in a permanent and unreturn-able sort of way. Consequently, we can say that partially at least the woman's vocation and mission is to imitate and con-tinue through space and time as a sign or symbol and cause the mission of the Holy Spirit--to lead humanity 4- 4- 4- Superior and Vocation ~John of St. Thomas, The Gifts of the Holy Ghost (New York:VOLUME 24, 1965 Sheed and Ward, 1954), pp. 37-8. 177 Charles A. SchCl.eSc.Ck., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 178 back to God by showing it that God is a God of love and of gift; by showing it that its duty is to find God, to go back to Him, to love Him by an unreturnable gift of self in the darkness and mysteriousness of a deep faith and trust. And I believe we might say that the woman would represent and personify the Holy Spirit not partially, but wholly, not merely in her origin, but also in her nature, if, without being wife and mother, she could be the center of love between father and son in a family as a virgin. When we come to the consideration of the religious sister we should not expect her vocation to be contrary to her fundamental vocation of woman. Rather we would expect it to lie along the same lines. And yet because of the increased perfection of her vocation in the order of grace we would expect it to lie much further along the road, such that it would enable her to realize and achieve or fulfill her vocation of woman much more profoundly. And I believe that even a rather brief analysis of the sister's role or place in the Church would bear this out. She is given to the Church as a sign, a visible sign of not one but rather of several realities. And because she is a sign, because she acts as a visible and public witness in the Church, she is given to the Church and to the humanity intended to belong to the Church as a visible parable, or a graphic picture, or model or icon or type, for all to see, of the intimate rela-tionship which the whole of humanity is meant to have with God. We mentioned above that all communication between God and man has tended to adopt a sacra-mental or sign-medium--either that of language or events or representations or personifications (for exam-ple, Judith, Moses, the Virgin Mary). And this is no less true of the sister's vocation. Because her role with rela-tion to man is sacramental, everything about her should indicate what she stands for---her dress or garb, the houses where she lives, the entire rhythm and disposition of her life. She is meant to indicate publicly that man belongs entirely to God, that one day he will have to live only for Him and only with Him. She is meant to indi-cate publicly that man belongs entirely to God, that one day it will have to live only for Him and only with Him. She is meant to indicate perpetually not in herself alone, but in the institution which she gives life to during the course of her earthly life, that man is called to experience God's personal love, that he is intended to receive His special attention, that he is called to enter into a relation-ship with God that can best be signified by the bridal rela-tionship, by the union existing between man and wife. Thus the sister is meant to be revelatory in the fullest sense of this word. There is a tradition which runs through revelation, as we mentioned, placing the woman firmly on this side of heaven and identified with God's chosen people, His Ecclesia. It is the feminine image or archetype, which stands for the whole of humanity, for God's chosen and elect. In this role she is not meant to be wife to husband in the sense of being merely an object for masculine projections. She is meant to indicate that the whole of mankind especially in the order of grace is the object of God's special predilection, that it receives all that it has, especially in this order, uniquely from God, as a woman, the body-person of her husband, receives her glory and her name from her husband. This would seem to be at least something of the theological mystery or the reli-gious significance of the woman consecrated to God within the framework of a religious community. And it is for this reason no doubt that her ever further unveil-ing so often means the breakdown of her public mission and of her mystery or sacrament before the People of God and before all called to belong to this People. Per-haps we might identify this unveiling today with the contemporary trend that attempts to prove or demon-strate that woman can make her best contribution to human progress by being not merely equal to man, but identical with him, instead of by being herself. There is a common desire and a legitimate curiosity within the human race to see the goal to which it is divinely destined, to catch while still here on earth a glimpse of itself in glory. And this is given to it in the vocation of the religious sister. This is part of the mean-ing of the reception of the habit assigning her a public mission in the Church and before humanity--to be a sign of humanity's belonging to God as His bride. It is in this way I think that the Sister is meant to be a sign permanently and visibly present in the world of the sublime privilege and compulsory destiny of the whole of humanity--to be open and docile and obedient to the plan of salvation, as a bride is open to her husband.2° How important this is for the vocation of your sub-jects can be seen from the fact that woman insofar as she is directed toward man and toward the love of man re-tains her bridal character throughout her entire exist-ence. Thus a wife in her attitude toward the husband she loves remains a bride throughout her entire life. For the bridal quality of the woman is merely a repre-sentation of her love in its undying and unending re-newal. If this is true of the ordinary woman, it should be even more true of the virgin who is consecrated to Christ. For she by special commission of the Church ~ ¥ictor White, O. P., Soul and Psyche (New York: Harper, 1960), pp. 12 ft. ÷ ÷ ÷ Superior Vocation VOLUME 24, Z965 ]79 + 4. 4. Charles A. SchCle.Sck.C,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]80 pronouncing on her call from Christ is set aside to be a permanent and symbolic or sacramental renewal in sign of the Church's and of each person's bridal rela-tionship to the Lord. In a much more visible way by her virgin's vocation and by her habit is her bridal quality renewed and her wedding day continuously and daily represented and repeated before humanity. And how perfectly this function and mission or public assignment corresponds with the ingredients of her natural vocation. Surrender to another in personal en-counter is the deepest longing of a woman's heart. When a woman makes this surrender to another creature she is underestimating her worth; and she is, perhaps with-out knowing it, making demands which no creature can possibly fulfill. Only God can receive us in such a way that He fills the quasi-infinite and inexhaustible demands of the human heart to love and to be loved. That is why the aim of the religious life--complete surrender to God--is also the one adequate fulfillment of woman's longing. From this we can see why the "fiat" of the Mother of God at the Annunciation, and its continuation throughout her entire life, and the profession of the religious sister is a visible symbol of humanity's essential religious quality, surrender to God, openness to Him. In a very special way then tlfis atti-tude is truly the special charisma, the ecclesial function of the sister in the Church. And she should not forget that the idea of charisma means not the working out of one's own career designs, but rather the obliterating of one's own person to the point of its becoming an instru-ment of service to the ecclesial community and to hu-manity as a whole. In addition to the religious sister's being a sign of the relationship of humanity with God, she is also meant to be a sign of God's relationship to the world of man. And this is one of love and concern. Thus she is meant to assume the interests and concerns of Eternal Love, or she is meant to reflect and place before the whole of humanity the personal and intense and warm love which God has for it. And she reflects these concerns and interests, even anxiety, in a light that is peculiarly her own; that is, in a maternal light. Thus the religious woman's love dynamism is not only not annihilated in her being called to assume her ecclesial function; it is rather given new life and becomes far more extensive that that of "she who hath husband." 21 It is meant to assume the status and the proportions of the God-man Himself. Thus God by calling her to the religious life communicates to the woman together with the grace of her vocation something that was not there before. This is .o~ Is 5-t: I. a divine dynamism or vitality which makes her every ac-tivity, her every response to God a form of fruitfulness and motherhood. Even though her apostolic work may be rather quiet and performed in relative hiddenness and obscurity, it is still a dynamic power or force that transforms and gives life to all that it touches. That is why her woman's natural desire is not at all annihilated. Rather, it is made to expand as she assumes more and more fully the perspectives of a daughter of the Church. The woman who is called sister is a mother in the high-est sense of the word. This was very strongly asserted by the late sovereign pontiff, Pope Pius XII, in an ad-dress given in May of 1956: The Catholic Church, depository of the divine designs, teaches the higher fruitfulness of lives entirely consecrated to God and to neighbor. Here the complete renunciation of the family should make possible the completely disinterested spiritual ac-tion which proceeds not from any fear of life and its responsi-bilities, but from the perception of the true destinies of man, created to the image and likeness of God and in search of uni-versal love, which no fleshly attachment can limit. That is the most sublime fecundity and the most desirable which man can seek, the fecundity which transcends the biological order and reaches straight into that of the spirit.~ This truth is more important for us to recall than ever before. There is no such thing as a woman's right to a child. There is only the right of the child to a mother. For a woman to be a physician, a guardian, a teacher, or a nurse is not a profession in the masculine sense of the word. It is the form which her spiritual motherhood is to take in God's designs. Thus a profes-sion is not just a substitute for the unmarried woman's lack of physical motherhood. Rather it is the working out of the never failing motherliness that is in every genuine woman. And this is the more true, the more her motherhood turns around those things which are regarded as the timeless possessions of humanity, the cultural and religious values of the human race. Thus in the Church by reason of her religious mission and her apostolate as mother, the sister has her place beside the bearer of religious fatherhood, beside the priesthood of the man. And in this respect she is like the Church who in her character as mother is a cooper-ating principle with the one working within her, Christ Himself. Perhaps it is in this vision of her vocation where we discover the fundamental reason why it was fitting that the priesthood was never entrusted to the woman. The priesthood could not be confided to a woman because then the very meaning and significance which she communicates to man would be annihilated. ~ Address to Doctors on Fertility and Sterility, May 19, 1956; see The States o] Perfection, p. 288, n. 624b. 4. 4. 4. Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 ]8] REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS She is excluded from the hierarchy not becanse she is unequal to man but because she is not identical to him. This exclusion is a recognition of the distinctiveness and individuality of the woman. It is a witness to the fact that there are distinctly feminine tasks in the Church which demand the presence of women. Thus this exclusion far from being motivated from any dis-dain for woman springs from a reverence and respect for the true nature of woman, for the peculiar talents and gifts which God has given humanity in her. In fact in her not being capable of the priesthood she renders the priesthood its most outstanding service. For she teaches it by that very fact that the priesthood institnted by Christ is a service rather than a lordship and that it is a service of joy. Its object is agap~ or charity, brotherhood and the bond of love. And charity is above all not a matter of organization, but one of interior disposition of faith that is active in love. Here we find the special domain of the woman's devotion and gener-osity and youthful unselfishness.~3 It is these same thoughts which prompted Plus XII to write in 1957: We do not have to reaffirm Our certainty that Religious women are indispensable in many fields of the Catholic aposto-late, particularly in the field of education and scholastic activity, no less than in the field of charity. The Church's missionary work would for a long time now have been unthinkable without the participation of the Sisters; and in many fields, where the sacred hierarchy is in charge, the labors of the Sisters are indispensable for the well-organized care of souls. Without their help, the Church would have been compelled to relinquish many op-portunities for progress, and many positions, already painfully won, would probably have had to be abandoned. With the aso sistance of your maternal hands, beloved daughters, the Church is able to support the aged in their declining years; with your warmth of heart the Church is able to warm the hearts of tiny orphans; with your fervor of self-dedication, the Church is able to minister to the sick." The Limitations and Weaknesses of Woman In all this analysis of the woman's vocation and mis-sion in nature and in religion, we are not to forget that in the present fallen order of the human race, these ideal qualities and expressions of her image are always the goal or end after which she is constantly striving, a goal that has been ideally reached only by one indi-vidual, the Virgin Mother of God, and this only through a most special and singular grace. The reason for this need for constant effort stems from the fact that the fall withdrew a unifying force which would have kept in Arnold, Man and Woman, passim. Address to Nursing Sisters, April 25, 1957, in The States o] Per- Jection, pp. 286--7. harmony and balance and unity the various ingredients mentioned above. Thus your subjects must be made aware of these different limitations during the course of their formation and also afterwards, since they mani-fest themselves at different age-levels of our human existence. This education should be geared in such a way as to make them aware of the particular spiritual opportunities which are offered to religious women through the presence of these limiting factors and to make them aware of the various protections available against the spiritual decline to which they are then exposed. Without attempting in any way to present an exhaus-tive list of these limitations and weaknesses, the follow-ing thoughts in reference to them might prove to be helpful at least by way of area analysis. We mentioned above that the woman tends toward the personal and the living, toward the whole of things; that she tends to cherish, to keep and protect; that she tends not so much toward the abstract but rather to the concrete. This tendency toward the personal and living and con-crete can, however, become unwholesomely exaggerated. On the one hand she is inclined to be at times extrava-gantly concerned with her own person and problems and to expect the same interest from others, in the case of sisters, their superiors and fellow sisters. This brings about the tendency to anxiety, to depression, the desire to be recognized, to be given attention, to be loved. This situation can be increased when there is question of slight or serious emotional instability, or even by simple glandular disturbance, or by the rhythm of the woman's body activity. It is from this lack of and yet desire for security and acceptance that there can come diffidence, shyness, timidity, even hostility. On the other hand, this over-concentration on the personal can lead to an unmeasured interest in others, which mani-fests itself by way of curiosity, gossip, indiscreet longing to penetrate into the more intimate part of the lives of others, fellow sisters, pupils, and so forth. Again the tendency which she has toward wholeness can lead to an "explosive" use of her energy, to a superficial nib-bling in all directions without any real unifying end or goal. The tendency which she has to cherish, to keep, and to protect can lead to a possessiveness that far exceeds anything required by her work or associations with others. And finally her tendency to the concrete in preference to the abstract can easily cut off from her vision those things which lie outside her immediate environment, or from the broader view which she ought to be taking of things. Added to these there are other weaknesses which can 4. + + Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 183 ÷ ÷ ÷ Charles A. Schleck, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]84 find their way into the life of woman, such as her tend-ency to an anthropomorphic idea of God which could lead to an over-familiarity with Him or to a sentimen-talized relationship with Him such that she would lack the true reverence for Him which she ought to have. Again, we find that she has an inclination to seIf-de-lusion and to suggestibility; that she is easily persuaded and influenced by appearances rather than by reason and logic. In fact it was this tendency that made Shake-speare have one of his female characters remark: "I have no other but a woman's reason: I think him so because I think him so." Likewise because of her strong emo-tional needs we find that at times when these are not satisfied, she can be capricious, moody, unstable, extrav-agant, unpredictable, and rather weak of will. And lastly, but certainly not the least important weakness which can be found in woman is the peculiar expression which her conflicts with authority assume. Generally speaking a thorough analysis of such conflicts would usually indicate that they are not so much with the concept or notion of authority as rather with persons in authority. This would seem to follow from the woman's being occupied more with persons than with abstract ideas.~5 While all these things might seem to pertain more to the realm of mere human psychology and to be espe-cially due to the irresolution of the normal crises of human life--those of vocation, identity, intimacy, par-enthood, integrity, and prayer and action,~6 you should attempt to make your religious see that they provide them with the normal channels through which God Himself works out their salvation. They should be seen as the ordinary "dark nights" through which most religious must pass to come closer to God. Just as He makes use of human instruments to effect our holiness, so too does He make use of the ordinary happenings and situations of human life--physical, biological, emo-tional, moral, and intellectual crises--to lead us closer to Himself. Such an attitude, of course, cannot be achieved unless your subjects are educated to and constantly re-minded of the fact that they must regard the circum-stances of life--at all levels--as given and provided for by God. It is through these very ordinary events of life that grace is made visible and available for them in these rather human "sacramental" forms. It is in this way that you can hope to impress upon your religious ~nW. Demal, O.S.B., Pastoral Psychology in Practice (New York: Kenedy, 1955), pp. 54 ft. ~ For an excellent treatment of these crises, see Barry McLaughlin, S.J., Nature, Grace, and Religious Development (Westminster: New-man, 1964), pp. 1-128. the fact that they are women and that they possess some or all of the weaknesses of women in our fallen economy; that this is something they should not only accept, but in a sense respect and even reverence, seeing in them the peculiar destiny and glory which God Him-self has singled out for them. It is only in this way that the whole of life can become one continuous sacra-mental encounter with God who continues to reveal Himself through the things that are made and through the things that happen. It is only in proportion as they learn to see these things in this light that they can hope to receive in exchange for their surrender to them the life and deepening faith which He promises in return.27 Conclusion While it is impossible for major superiors to person-ally form all their subjects in reference to what has preceded, still it would seem that they would contribute greatly to the spiritual improvement of their communi-ties if they saw to it that these notions of the woman's vocation and mission in the plan of God were system-atically communicated to their religious throughout the years of their formation. It is only in this way that they can expect their religious (1) to make their precise and proper contribution to God's plan, to the work of the Church, to the apostolates o~ the community, and to their own sanctification; (2) to protect themselves against their weaknesses and the harm these could cause to the realization of the various ends and goals of their ecclesial mission; and (3) to make them aware of and able to use for encounter with God the rich gifts and humbling limi-tations of their own personalities. It is only in this way that they like Mary and the Church whom they continue to embody can provide humanity with a concrete theology of mankind or humanity redeemed. It is for this reason that I would suggest that in your visitations and personal interviews with your subjects, these ideas be frequently presented and recalled. By yourselves knowing and appreciating and loving the woman's and the sister's vocation, public function, and problems, and by making this quite evident to your communities, you will show your maternal interest in them as a family and as persons. And once this becomes evident in you, there is greater hope that the family image which ought to characterize the religious life will become an actual reality. There is greater hope that each and all of your subjects will combine all the voca-tions open to woman and reflect the virtues that are proper to them. For as virgins they must continue to ~ Adrien Yon Speyer, Meditations on the Gospel o[ St. John (Lon-don: Collins, 1959), p. 43. + + + Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 185 ÷ ÷ ÷ Charles ,4. $chCle.cSk.C, . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 186 reflect Mary's humility, her simplicity, her naturalness, her silence, her thoughtfulness, her reflectiveness, her caution or reserve, her complete dependence on grace, and her profound faith both in the world of the present and in that of the future. As spouses of Christ, they must practice a perfect personal fidelity to the one they have chosen; for this is the essential relationship existing between bride and bridegroom reflected so strikingly in Mary, the image or archetype of the Church standing at the foot of the Cross. To maintain this fidelity in-violate will at times demand heroic fortitude in the face of the difficulties that come not only from without but most often from within. And finally as mother, they are to practice or cultivate a sense of and use of the social virtues, of the deep interest and consideration and concern for the needs of others. For motherhood implies an encompassing care and attention, the giving of nourishment and shelter, an activity that is marked by its tenderness and gentleness yet firmness, for the weak and fragile things that are being brought forth in Christ. It demands the exact opposite of selfishness and undue self-interest, of worry and anxiety about oneself and one's personal needs, it is rather characterized by self-sacrifice, by resourcefulness, by the ability and desire to give of one's time and energy to and for others, and by laying at the disposal of the race whatever gifts and qualities God may have given her. Your task today is of gigantic proportions. For how evident is our need for a new Pentecost, for the reign of the Spirit and of His influence and His gentle rule; for love of God and obedience, submission, reverence and a sense of the sacred; for purity, warmth, and fresh-ness; for spontaneity, poetry, and the Godward force-- all of which are presented to us in the picture of the woman redeemed. In a sense we can truthfully say that the greatest need in the modern world is for the truly feminine. For to be wise, to learn wisdom, demands that one be feminine to reality, to let reality flood in, to be molded by reality and so achieve a certain fullness from our absorption of it; to rest in reality, and so achieve a certain peace. In the Consolation of Boethius it is a woman who leads him to Wisdom. Her mission is to tell him, a prisoner in the dungeon, that if he had not cast away the weapons she had given him, he would have been invincible against the attacks of evil fortune. And then she attempts to lead him gently back to the realization that not in gaining possession of anything, but only in obedience and love to and for God, will we find eternal happiness and peace. And the world has need of this collaboration. It has a profound need for women who know how to say to God "fiat," to keep all things in their hearts; it has need for women who can bring the world back to a sense of unity, of religion, and of peace. It must return to the simple things, the human things, to the mystery of life and death, of birth and redemption. And it will find these in the woman who reflects in her very body the constant rhythm of nature itself, who holds the secret of life and who knows instinctively that esse is better than agere, being is so much more than doing. That is why she is a sign of the eternal. Again, we can say that woman has need of women who are genuinely themselves. For she has been and is still attempting to find her role too much in the world of man. The world without women is more the world of adolescents than the world of men. It is a world that easily shakes off its transcendental ties. The all-too-masculine activity of self-reliance and self-redemption has dimmed man's vision of the transcendent. Before this will be rectified, mankind must once more become feminine; that is, receptive of the "Word" which con-stantly seeks entrance into its womb. The profound consolation that woman can bring and give to mankind is her faith in the immeasurable ac-tivity and efficacy of forces that are hidden and invis-ible. For the divine creative force can break forth from God to renew the face of the earth only on condition that the earth lifts up its face with its single contribu-tion: "Be it done to me according to thy word." This is the feminine power which Mary shares with all her sex who will follow her in her love and renunciation. Every woman is made for mercy, love, understanding, and mediation. But it is only when all these are ele-vated by grace that they give her a mission and a mean-ing no longer merely human and terrestrial, but divine and infinite. That is why mankind will find its way to paradise only when it meets the loving woman whose eyes rest in and on God. From all this, one thing stands out quite clearly: To be a woman is a vocation with peculiar and profound responsibilities not only to oneself but to the whole of humanity. Woman is still and let us hope she will re-main the eternal mystery. We would not want to find the solution to her in the discovery of scientific facts alone. For it is from the mystery which she is and which she has received from and in God that human-ity's ideals and inspirations arise and that the super-natural civilization which is the work of the Spirit will finally be achieved. This is your supreme task--to see to it that this is brought about in the women under your charge. And the fact that in God's plan the highest human person is a woman should only serve to spur you on in the accomplishment of your special ecclesial mission. ÷ 4, ÷ Superior and Focation VOLUME 24, 1965 18'/ THOMAS DUBAY,S.M. Psychological Considerations in Our Approach to Mental Prayer ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M., is spiritual director at Notre Dame Seminary; 2001 South Carroll-ton Avenue; New Orleans, Louisiana 70118. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 188 If we wish to get a man to visit and speak with a friend of ours, we talk not about the theory of conversation but about our friend. Rudimentary psychology suggests that men and women alike are inclined to communicate not by understanding abstract theories of communication but by being drawn to attractive personalities. Yet in teaching mental prayer to our young religious in postulancies, novitiates, juniorates, and seminaries we often introduce them into a supremely interpersonal familiarity through impersonal conceptual analyses and pointed outlines. We are not wholly unlike a man who in order to get Jim to date Joan explains what dating is about rather than what Joan is like. We propose in this essay to advance the thesis that a psychologically natural and humanly appealing approach to instruction in and the practice of mental prayer is through a scripturally and theologically orientated appre-ciation of the mystery of the Trinity indwelling in the souls of the just through charity. We feel that once a young novice or seminarian (or veteran, for that matter) grasps the astonishing God-and-man intimacy implied in the in-dwelling mystery as Sacred Scripture presents it, the whole concept of mental prayer will not only appear to be a nor-mal, expected next step but also an appealingly attractive occupation. And surely it is a chief function of any teacher to make his subject appealing, interesting, challenging. If, however, the divine inhabitation is presented to in-telligent young people for the purpose of moving them to a living of it, we feel that the teacher should avoid isolated approaches: merely speculative on the one hand or merely pietistic on the other. Few are moved by the former alone and no one is much enlightened by the latter alone. Hence, we prefer to begin by a study of Sacred Scripture, first the Old Testament and then the New. The Ancient Intimacy A careful research into the scriptural deposit dealing with God and man relationships will convince one that the theme underlying the whole divine message is an al-most incredibly beautiful desire on the part of God to be familiar with man. A demonstration of this fact is too vast a project to present exhaustively here, but if one studies Deuteronomy, the prophets, and the wisdom literature thoughtfully, he cannot fail to be impressed with the re-markable expressions Yahweh uses to indicate His desire to love and cherish and even fondle His people. Though we cannot attempt a complete exposition of this truth within the confines of our present discussion, we do wish to suggest a few illustrations of what we mean by the divine desire for interpersonal intimacy with man. These illustrations will serve to exemplify our intent in speaking of a scripturally orientated appreciation of men-tal prayer. Somewhat as the fully bloomed flower is contained in the tightly enclosed bud, so is the interindwelling mys-tery (the New Testament does not speak merely of an in-dwelling) of divine intimacy in the new dispensation con-tained in the many themed God-and-man familiarity of the old. Yahweh prepared the human family for the super-natural divine inhabitation by the gradual unfolding of His desire for a tender and mutual love between Himself and His intellectual creatures. In the Old Testament God uses several concrete images to make clear to the Hebrews how deep is His love and concern for them. He declares that His love is like a mar-ried love: He who has become your husband is your Maker. For a brief moment I abandoned you, but with great tenderness I will take you back . With enduring love I take pity on you, says the Lord your redeemer (Is 54:5,7-8). Then He says that His affection is like parental affection: + It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, who took them into my arms; I drew them with human cords, with bands of love; I ÷ fostered them like one raises an infant to his cheeks. Yet, though + I stooped to feed my child, they did not know that I was their Approach toMental healer . How could I give you up, O Ephraim?. My heart is Prayer overwhehned, my pity is stirred (Hos 11:3-4,8). It would be difficult in any language to express a more concerned, a more touching, an even fondling intimacy. VOLUME 24, 1965 189 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 19~ Further, the divine love must be returned, a privilege that is also an obligation, an obligation enunciated with unusual solemnity and insistence on its being taught and remembered: Hear, O Israeli The Lord is our God, the Lord alone! There-fore, you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength. Take to heart these words which I enjoin on you today. Drill them into your children. Speak of them at home and abroad, whether you are busy or at rest. Bind them at your wrist as a sign and let them be as a pendant on your forehead. Write them on the doorposts of your houses and on your gates (Dt 6:4-9). Tender concern has its root in love. A mother is anx-iously solicitous for her sick child precisely because she loves. Yahweh is at pains to convince Israel of His touch-ing concern because He loves with an inconceivably greater love. He uses the image of a father's strong care for his son: You saw how the Lord, your God, carried you, as a man carries his child, all along your journey until you arrived at this place (Dr l:~l). The divine eye is set even on the steps of a man and on each of his bones: His eyes are upon the ways of man, and he beholds all his steps (Jb 34:21) . He watches over all his bones; not one of them shall be broken (Ps 33:21). He cannot forget His human children: Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you (Is 49:15). It can come as no wonder, then, that the pious Hebrew responds with an utter and intimate trust toward this loving-kindness of his God. He piles image upon image to express it: I love you, O Lord, my strength, O Lord, my rock, my for-tress, my deliverer. My God, my rock of refuge, my shield, the horn of my salvation, my strongholdl Praised be the Lord, I exclaim, and I am safe from my enemies (Ps 17:2-4). His trust is implicit: I believe that I shall see the bounty of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord with courage; be stouthearted, and wait for the Lord (Ps 26:13-4). His confidence is optimistic: Come, let us sing joyfully to the Lord; let us acclaim the rock of our salvation. Let us greet him with thanksgiving; let us joyfully sing psahns to him (Ps 94:1-2). This loving trust brings a man very close indeed to his God, willing to pray to Him, eager to find fulfillment in Him: One thing I ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveli-ness of the Lord (Ps 26:4). Even in the old dispensation we may note how strikingly these interpersonal relations brought man near to God. No less than six or seven times in one short prayer does the Psalmist declare his proximity to his Maker: With you I shall always be; you have hold o[ my right hand; with your counsel you guide me, and in the end you will re-ceive 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. For indeed, they who withdraw [rom you perish; you destroy everyone who is unfaithful to you. But for me, to be near God is my good; to make the Lord God my refuge (Ps 72:23-8). One must agree that this is a far from an indirect prep-aration for the indwelling mystery. Finally, we may not omit the yearning for God and the solid joy in the Lord themes so characteristic of any con-templative soul. If we can instill into our novices and seminarians a never to be lost sense of the Hebrew ve-hemence in pursuing God in prayer, whatever else we may do toward their proper formation, we have succeeded in planting their steps firmly and probably perpetually in a prayerful approach to the religious life. To us one of the most remarkable traits of Psalter spir-ituality is this vehemence of the Psalmist's longing for God. By any standard of judgment it is extraordinary. It betrays a lofty sanctity, a deep sense of the divine reality, a vibrant awareness that only Yahweh is the health of the soul. And this too is exactly what our young religious need to learn first in their initial meeting with mental prayer. One likes to imagine what kind of pray-ers we would turn out of our novitiates if we could merely begin to instill the following sentiments into their young hearts: As the hind longs for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, 0 God. Athirst is my soul for God, the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?. 0 God, you are my God whom I seek; for you my flesh pines and my soul thirsts like the earth, parched, lifeless and without water . As with the riches of a banquet shall my. soul be satisfied, and with exultant lips my mouth shall praise you. I will remember you upon nay couch, and through the night-watches I will meditate on you: that you are my help, and in the shadow of your wings I shout for joy. My soul clings fast to you . I stretch out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like parched land . I gasp with open mouth in my yearning for your commands. How lovely is your dwelling place, 0 Lord of hostsl My soul yearns and pines for the courts of the Lord. My heart and my flesh cry out for the living God . I had rather one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere . You will show me the 4, 4, 4, A tfl~roach to M~ntal Prayer VOLUME 24, 1965 191 + ÷ + Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 192 path to life, fullness of joys in your presence, the delights at your right hand forever . Only in God be at rest, my soul (Ps 41:2-3; 62:2-3,6-9; 142:6; 118:131; 83:2-3,11; 15:11; 61:6). If we religious sincerely possess these sentiments, not much more is required. It seems to us that this magnificent Old Testament invi-tation to intimacy with God (developed, of course, at greater length) is the psychologically sound introduction to mental prayer. Nothing is so appealing as Sacred Scrip-ture and nothing so compels a man to want to converse with another as the realization that this other loves him and is actually yearning for a conversation. And such is precisely the Old Testament story. It needs to be mastered by our formation personnel and presented to our young candidates. The New Interinclwelling Intimacy The new revelation uttered by the Word expands the old dispensation familiarity into the divine inhabitation in the souls of the just. If one examines the Gospels and Epistles without presuppositions stemming from diverse schools of theology, he will conclude, we submit, that however one looks upon the indwelling mystery as the New Testament presents it, he must characterize it as closely bound up with interpersonal relationships between the Trinity and the soul. The matter is not primarily spatial or local. God is naturally present everywhere, and the Jews who listened to Jesus knew that fact well from the clear statements of it in their sacred books. A new, supernatural presence seems to leave out of direct con-sideration-- but by no means denies--the natural immen-sity of God, His omnipresent power and His all-pene-trating knowledge. Hence, a priori we might expect that if God is present in the rational creature in some new manner, the newness may be an interpersonal affair, not a mere stark, physical location. Such it is. The indwelling of the Trinity in the souls of the just according to the new revelation is a super-natural, personal familiarity revolving around a mutual knowing and loving, an intimacy tailor-made for initiat-ing and fostering a life of mental prayer and recollected converse. Some Illustrations We may with profit examine a few instances of what we mean in saying that the indwelling presence revolves about the interpersonal relationships of mutual love and knowl-edge (and, consequently, delight). 1. The mutual love relationship. Of all interpersonal relations the most intimate and satisfying is a two-way love. Now it is surely no accident that according to the New Testament love is both a condition and a conse-quence of the Trinity's new supernatural presence in cer-tain men. I[ you love me, keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father and he will give you another Advocate to dwell with you forever . He who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him . I~ anyone love me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our abode with him . The charity of God is poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us . God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God in him (Jn 14:15-6,21,23; Rom 5:5; 1 Jn 4:16). Whatever the indwelling mystery means, it surely in-cludes some marvelous mutual love relationship between God and man. And what better preparation for grasping the concept and raison d'etre of mental prayer could one ask than a vivid realization of this fact? 2. The new knowledge relationship. Love presupposes knowledge. A carrot cannot love even on a sensitive level because it cannot know. We would expect, therefore, that if the new supernatural God and man intimacy demands a new love, it would imply a new knowledge. And so it does. In indwelling contexts we find in the New Testa-ment more than one reference to God somehow manifest-ing Himself to those who love Him. We learn that the indwelling Spirit somehow instructs His temple, that a man who does not love cannot really come to know God. You shall know him [the Spirit of truth], because he will dwell with you, and be in you . He who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him . You, however, are not carnal but spiritual, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you . The Spirit himself gives testimony to our spirit that we are sons of God . In this we know that he abides in us, by the Spirit whom he has given us . Everyone who loves is born of God, and knows God. He who does not love does not know God; for God is love (Jn 14:17, 21; Rom 8:9,16; 1 Jn 3:24; 4:7-8). Again, how could we better prepare a young religious for a life of contemplating divine Truth than to help him understand this facet of the divine inhabitation, namely, that the Spirit of truth Himself is pouring out the light by which the soul progressively grows in an appreciation of divine reality? The more the young sister, brother, and seminarian realize this communal aspect of mental prayer the less they are inclined to take the dim view that their meditation is an individualistc, isolated, futile experience. 3. The interpersonal relations implied in "abiding, dwelling, temple." There is a vast difference between a stark, naked, merely material presence of one thing to an-other and a warm, personal, mutual knowledge-love-joy presence. If I take a bus trip with a total stranger at my + ÷ ÷ A ~rt oach to Mental Prayer VOLUME 2,~, 1965 193 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 194 side (who will not communicate with me), I am alone even though the bus be jammed with fifty passengers. If, how-ever, I journey with a dear friend, the situation is totally changed even though the rest of the bus be empty. For in-tellectual beings spatial presence is only a condition for full presence; and full presence is effected by mutual know-ing, loving, enjoying. It is significant that when the New Testament speaks of the divine inhabitation the words used usually imply much more than what we have called a stark, naked, material presence--as water is present in a jug. They imply a local inbeing, of course, but, much more, they imply the knowl-edge- love-delight presence of persons. In revelation Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are said to abide, dwell, to be given to us, to be in a temple, to be a joy, to be tasted. He will give you another Advocate to dwell with you for-ever, the Spirit of truth . We will come to him and make our abode with him . Abide in me and I in you . He who abides in me, and I in him, he bears much fruit .Abide in my love . These things I have spoken to you that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be made full . The charity of God is poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us . Do you not know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?. Do you not know that your members are the temple of the Holy Spirit? ¯. Crave as newborn babes, pure spiritual milk, dlat by it you may grow to salvation; if, indeed, you have tasted that the Lord is sweet. Draw near to him . He who abides in love abides in God, and God in him (Jn 14:16,23; 15:4,5,9,11; Rom 5:5; 1 Cot 3:16; 6:19; 1 Pt 2:2-4; 1 Jn 4:16). Why are these words significant? Furniture is in a house, but it does not abide there; it does not dwell; it is not given to the house; nor is it a joy to the house. Persons, however, do abide and dwell in the house. They possess the building that may be given to them and they are a joy to one another. God is in an atom, a tree, a star. But they are not His temple, nor does He abide and dwell in them. And they in turn cannot enjoy and taste Him since they cannot know. God is also in the sinner and the pagan. But they are not his temple either, nor does He dwell in them. While both can know intellectually and the sinner may even pos-sess faith, neither possesses the unifying force of love. Nei-ther can taste and see how good the Lord is. Now all this, too, is immensely significant [or teaching and appreciating mental prayer. If this God Who is sought in prayer is so close that He can be tasted, so interested that He indwells, so good that He is given, He becomes a very easy to talk to God, a very easy to love God. And this is precisely what we are trying to get our young religious to do: to converse familiarly, to love ardently. At this point one may ask where he may find reference material on these interpersonal and indwelling relations in the Old and New Testaments. We are not aware of any work on the indwelling mystery that does what we here envision. We have ourselves for some considerable time been working on the interpersonal relations between God and man in the old dispensation and the indwelling mys-tery in the new. This much at least is now apparent, that if one does justice to the data available--and we mean scriptural and theological data--he will have a suitable introduction to an appreciation of mental prayer. We see no reason why novice mistresses and seminary professors cannot with patient study construct adequate courses on their own. 4. Activity of the Trinity within. Most of us conceive mental prayer chiefly as man's activity. God is principally an object reached by our reflections and affections, a lis-tener to what we have to say. It is we who reflect and seek and say. There is a partial truth here, namely, that man does think and will and attain his God. But it is only partial because all of his thinking, willing, attaining originate from the Fountain of all that is and operates. The children of men, we are told, have their fill of the prime gifts of your house; from your de-lightful stream you give them to drink. For with you is the fountain of life, and in your light we see light (Ps 35:9-10). This Fountain pours out life and light from within the soul. He is not a far away God acting at a distance. He is so close He is within; He is dynamically present giving every act in mental prayer, every act of any virtue: The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things, and bring to your mind whatever I have said to you . He who abides in me, and I in him, he bears much fruit: for without me you can do nothing . The charity of God is poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us . Whoever are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God . In like manner the Spirit helps our weakness (Jn 14:26; 15:5; Rom 5:5; 8:14,26). Both the young novice and the seasoned contemplative should realize that their prayer is anything but a solo flight to God. Their very seeking to pray is a gift given by ÷ their indwelling Guests. All the more are their acts of ÷ faith, hope, charity, adoration so many outpourings of the ÷ Fountain within, Approacl~ to MenUg Prayer for we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself pleads for us with unutterable groanings. And he who searches the hearts knows what the Spirit desires, that he pleads for the saints according to God (Rom 8:26-7). VOLUME 24, 1965 Thoroughness in Instruction Introductory instruction for our religious in the inter-personal relationships implied in the indwelling mystery cannot, in our opinion, be adequately given in a twenty-or thirty-minute explanation--not even in two or three half-hour conferences. We feel that our brief discussion in this article is not sufficiently developed for instructional purposes except insofar as it points out a general direction. To leave a deep impact not easily forgotten, the novice master or mistress should develop the indwelling mystery scripturally and theologically for perhaps eight or ten conferences. The novices will then be intellectually and psychologically prepared to see clearly that mental prayer is nothing other than a knowing-loving-delighting inter-personal familiarity with Father, Son, and Holy Spirit dwelling within their very beings. They are much less likely to get lost or entangled in the intricacies of points and methods, and much less subject to imagining that mental prayer is a refined sort of intellectual study period in matters spiritual. Thoma~ Dubay, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 196 Methods and the Indwelling All this suggests a further question. If mental prayer is essentially an interpersonal converse on deeply intimate terms, what becomes of "points for meditation," intellec-tual considerations, truths thought out in a discursive manner? And especially if higher mental prayer is a sim-ple loving attention to the three divine Guests, why should the beginner be encouraged to engage in reflections? It is not our intention to add to the perhaps too volu-minous literature on meditation methods, but we do wish to offer several observations regarding them in the light of what we have thus far said. Once we grant that mental prayer is an interpersonal familiarity with Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, then over-board immediately goes the notion that discursive medita-tion is a kind of study period in the spiritual life or, even less, that it implies a time for an elaborate examination of conscience. No doubt the beginner does learn about God and himself through meditation. And this is good. No doubt either that he does occasionally examine his con-duct in view of his reflections and aspirations. Good also~ provided this is kept within bounds. But, and this is im-portant, mental prayer is not primarily aimed at learning or at examining. It is primarily directed to yearning after, desiring, praising, loving God. The Psalms are inspired prayers. How much specula-tion do we find in them? How much examination? Very little. But we do find a large number of variegated expressions of praise, admiration, petition, gratitude, trust, love, long-ing--- expressions that disclose a sublime degree of sanctity in their authors. To illustrate our point we may remind ourselves of the Psalmist's ardent pining after God so im-portant to anyone who is to progress rapidly. We ask the reader to recall the strong words and the brilliant imagery the Hebrew spontaneously used to express his need for Yahweh. If before the intimacy of the indwelling presence was known men could be so vehement in their longing for God, we are hardly expecting too much when we look for the same vehemence after the revelation of the mys-tery. Beginners and the Intellectual Element These observations that mental prayer is neither mere speculation nor self-examination would seem to suggest that our instruction of novices should play down the cog-nitive elements in meditation and emphasize the affective. And this would seem especially to be the case with young sisters whose feminine nature is less inclined to specu-lation. This inference is only partially valid. For the typical be-ginner, masculine or feminine, we may not rule out dis-cursive reflection. Neither our comments nor feminine nature require that we treat human nature, even feminine human nature, as though it were not human. It remains true in prayer and it remains true for women that nothing is willed unless it is first known. This point we shall dis-cuss from the point of view of the young sister, for what we say of her applies a fortiori to the brother or seminar-ian. To say that the vast majority of young sisters do not or should not use their imaginations and reasoning power (discursive procedure) in meditation seems to us to sup-pose that the feminine psychology of cognition-appetition is not a fully human psychology. This position seems to suggest that by some sort of angelic, non-discursive intui-tion the young sister knows her prayer relations to God, while the young seminarian or brother must laboriously reason about and conclude to them. We readily grant that some young religious women even as novices are not inclined to discursive procedures at prayer but rather tend to an affective and at times highly simple prayer. But to us this does not prove that young sisters in general can dispense with imagining Christ in His human nature and with reasoning to proper motiva-tion in practicing the theological and moral virtues in meditation. All this proves is that God leads some souls more rapidly than others or, in other cases, that the young woman already understands through instruction and spir-itual reading the motives for seeking Christ and practicing ÷ ÷ ÷ A l~t~roavh to Mental Prayer VOLUME 24, 196.5 ]97 + ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]98 the virtues. In either case the religious feels no need for discursive reasoning. We doubt, however, that these cases are typical. Being human, women cannot be essentially different in their mental processes from men. And if we urged most young women in our novitiates to dispense with discursive re-flection and get on to affections immediately, most of them would be operating in a vacuum. Without solid intellec-tual basis their prayer could easily degenerate into mere emotionalism. St. Francis de Sales and St. Teresa of Avila (both of whom understood feminine psychology to no small degree) supposed that the ordinary young woman imagined and recalled and reasoned in her early attempts at meditation. The former in his Introduction to a Devout Life (a work originally composed for women) tells Philothea how to make considerations at her mental prayer (Part 2, Chap-ter 5) and in the meditations he actually offers Francis presents many truths for reflection. St. Teresa, a genius both in feminine psychology and in mental prayer, told her sisters that it was good for them to meditate on God's works if they could, and this, she sup-posed by the advice she gave, was the usual case. When she speaks of beginners in prayer, more than once she refers to meditation on the life of Christ. We may note, for example, Chapter 11 in her Life and Chapter 2 of the First Mansions of the Interior Castle. A novice mistress, there-fore, needs a good deal of tact to know when to allow ex-ceptions to the rule, when to permit a young sister to omit imagination and reasoning and when to urge them. A psychological approach to instructing in mental prayer through the indwelling mystery does not require that we abandon the cognitive elements in discursive med-itation; but it does require that we see them in a proper perspective: not mere speculation nor self-examination but as a human requirement for the interpersonal relations of knowing-loving-enjoying the Trinity within. The young religious reflects on reasons for yearning after God not merely for the sake of understanding the divine goodness but for the sake of actual yearning. And the same is true of praising, sorrowing, thanking, wondering, loving, and all the rest. For the beginner discourse in meditation is a means to the end. It is not the end. Advantages of the Indwelling Approach There are several reasons why formation personnel should begin instruction in mental prayer with the divine familiarity-indwelling themes rather than with concep-tual analyses and methodologies. First of all, what we have proposed is realistic and there is nothing so effective as measuring up to reality. Prayer is converse. Not study. Not examination. And God is near, so near He is within. We do not speak with the Father, His Son, and their Holy Spirit by a supernatural telephone line. To teach mental prayer merely as methodology or examination is to teach either artificiality or particular examen. Secondly, when the young novice or postulant first hears about meditation set in this framework, it appears as nor-mal, warm, human. It is appealing, what one would ex-pect. l'Vho is not attracted to conversing with a charming person--and especially when this charming person is like-wise longing to converse? One of the obstacles facing some young men and women just leaving the world is the feel-ing that God is distant, uninterested, or, more likely, dis-pleased with them. Sometimes these youngsters have a vivid recollection of their past unfaithfulness; and they consequently experience difficulty in looking upon God as close, concerned, caring about them. This approach to prayer life through the divine Word itself can do much to break down distrust and fear. Thirdly, our proposed instruction should get the nov-ices immediately into the heart and purpose of mental prayer: the exercise of the theological virtues and the virtue of religion. If it is true that meditation is not pri-marily aimed at learning what the spiritual life is about (classes, conferences, and spritual reading take care o[ that), a method of mental prayer is commendable insofar as it leads one to acts of faith, hope, charity, and the praise of God. To begin instruction by the various methods and points seems to be saying to young novices: "I am going to show you how you can learn more about God and about yourself, so that you may apply this knowledge to your daily life by uprooting your faults and practicing the vir-tues in action." This is good, to be sure, but misdirected all the same. Genuine mental prayer does aid mightily in uprooting faults and practicing virtues, but this result comes preponderantly through growth in love. Here we may add a parenthesis that is by no means ir-relevant. Why do so many priests later give up any serious practice of mental prayer and why do veteran brothers and sisters sometimes find this exercise almost meaningless? Although the chief reason is a neglect of grace somewhere along the line, yet we suspect that a partial culprit is in-struction that presented meditation as virtues to be ac-quired rather than a lovable God to be pursued. One can get tired of reflecting on and even practicing obedience, humility, purity for abstract reasons, but he cannot get tired of pursuing someone he loves. Even in deep aridity the faithful soul who has been pursuing God finds an ir-resistible charm in intensifying the pursuit: O God, you are my God whom I seek; for you my flesh pines Approach to Mental Prayer VOLUME 24, 1965 ]99 ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. and my soul thirsts like the earth, parched, lifeless and without water . For your kindness is a greater good than life; my lips shall glorify you . I will remember you upon my couch, and through the night-watches I will meditate on you. My soul clings fast to you (Ps 62:2,4,7,9). Our fourth reason for suggesting this supernatural in-timacy- indwelling approach to mental prayer is that the moral virtues automatically develop once a man or woman is rightly ordered to God. Experiencing through prayer the patience and gentleness of the divine goodness to man is a powerful spur for a man to be patient and gentle with his fellows. And contemplatives know from experience that the indwelling Spirit gives more humility through infused love than they could acquire in months of medita-tion on their own lowliness. A soul which is on intimate terms with God is a soul rapidly shedding its faults. Our approach to mental prayer is aimed precisely at developing this intimacy. The final reason is the most basic and ultimate of all. The indwelling approach being utterly real is a beginning of the end. It is an intrusion of time into eternity. Man's final, inexpressible destiny is a knowing-loving-enjoying absorption in the Trinity: This is everlasting life, that they may know thee, the only true God, and him whom thou hast sent, Jesus Christ . We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face . Beloved, now we are the children of God, and it has not yet appeared what we shall be. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see him just as he is . Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him (Jn 17:3; 1 Cot 13:12; 1 Jn 3:2; 1 Cor 2:9). Pope Leo XIII has observed that there is no substantial difference between the indwelling of earth and that of heaven. The diversity is one of state or condition: now we believe, then we see; now we love and enjoy imperfectly, interruptedly, then we love and enjoy perfectly, without interruption. Man's occupation with God on earth, there-fore, should resemble that of heaven insofar as his condi-tion permits. Living the indwelling mystery in the young religious' prayer Iife should be the beginning of an eternal intimacy: "Mary has chosen the best part, and it will not be taken away from her" (Lk 10:42). REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 900 MICHAEL M. DORCY, S.J. To Be Samaritans All We are all occasionally stopped by the embarrassing question put by others or by our deeper selves: "What is this thing called Christianity all about?" One begins pawing through the prolific--perhaps too prolific-- thematic variations to discover the underlying theme. Incorporated, often encrusted, as it is in its so many varying articulations, the essential Christian message becomes a forbidding complexity. But at its core the Christian message is disarmingly simple, although the living-out of it may be far from a simple matter. For the early Christians the Christian message was the good news, the best news yet. Paul called for a simple acceptance of Christ dead and resurrected. His epistolary explanation of the Christian vocation addressed to the saints at Ephesus has its beauty in the straightforward way in which Paul says: In those days there was no Christ for you . You were strangers to the covenant, with no promise to hope for, with the world about you and no God. But now you are in Jesus Christ; now through the blood of Christ, you have been brought close, you who were once far away. (Eph 2:12-13). The Christian today who remains attuned to his call stands out against his non-believing fellows as one who believes that life is neither absurd nor its own explana-tion, an end in itself. For the Christian, temporal existence has a meaning and a value of its own; but he is at the same time aware that life has another side to it, a side that opens out onto eternity. And he realizes that the temporal ultimately derives its value from the presence of the Eternal within time itself. For the Christian, his-tory is the concrete unfolding of the wisdom and love of God. He believes in a God who is basically a family, who authored life out of love and who labors now in time, trying to end the rift between Himself and man for which man is, and feels himself, responsible. This God, revealing Himself as a God who cares, has in the pivotal event of human history finally, physically entered time in the flesh-taking activity of the Second Person of the divine family, whose life, death, and resurrection evi- Michael M. Dorcy, s.J., is a fac-ulty member of Marquette Univer-sity High School; 3401 West Wiscon-sin Avenue; Mil-waukee, Wisconsin 53208. VOLUME 241 1965 201 Michael Dotty, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 202 dence and effect a plan whereby all men are joined to Him and would live as adopted sons within the family of God. In short, the Christian's God has said: "I have loved you, man! I love you now. This only do I ask in return: Love me." And man fumbles for a response: "God, You tell us to love You. But how do we love You?" God an-swers simply: "If you have seen, really seen, your brother, you have seen God. If you love your brother, you love Me." The Christian confronted with God's tale of love tries to answer by carving his own love story in time. But love is not an easy notion either to understand or to live by. In the New Testament which is the text for the school of love one finds passages which are more helpful than others for discerning what is precisely Christian about Christian love. One such place is the parable of the Good Samaritan where one finds in a compactness perhaps nowhere else equalled in all of Sacred Scripture the es-sentials of the love that was Christ's. Here we have the type of the Christian, of the man whose life completely revolves around authentic love. In the person of the Samaritan, Christ draws a portrait of Himself. Significantly, once when accused by some of the Jews of "being a Samaritan and possessed," Christ an-swered: "I am not possessed" (Jn 8:48-9). The Samaritan of the parable is described in terms which elsewhere throughout the Gospels the evangelists have reserved for Christ. The Samaritan is moved to compassion (literally, stirred in his inwards) as was Christ when He saw the multitudes and took pity on them, or when He melted away under the tears of the widow at Naim (Lk 7:12-3). The story itself is simple, but forever new and rich in meaning: A man was once traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho. Bandits attacked him. They stripped and beat him and left him to die. A priest chanced by, going along the same road. He saw the victim but went to the other side and continued on his way. Then a levite came by. He too saw him but went on. A Samaritan was also journeying by. Drawing near, he saw him. And he was touched to the heart at the sight. He went up to him, bandaged his wounds, and applied oil and wine to them. Then he put him on his own mount and brought him to an inn where he cared for him. The next day he gave two silver pieces to the innkeeper. "Take care of him," he said, "and whatever it costs I'll pay when I return." "Which o[ the three, in your opinion, acted as a neighbor to the man who had fallen into the hands of the bandits?" He answered: "The one who showed him mercy." "Go," Jesus told him, "and do the same." The Cast of Characters: The Man Without Qualities One can derive much from looking in turn at the characters who make up the story. We know next to nothing (and everything) about the man who was done in by the robbers. He is Oudeis No-Name, the man without qualities (or rather, a man deprived of all but the most insignificant of qualities, that of situs: he was "journeying from Jerusalem to Jericho"). Without name, or race, or nationality, or status in society, quali-tatively denuded of all, he is left physically naked, al-most lifeless by the wayside. He is man in the raw, any one of us, a pilgrim, homo viator, man-on-the-make, man-on-the-move, a fellow traveller on the road of life. To give him any qualities, to endow him with some de-terminations, as we instinctively try to do, is to limit the extensiveness and inclusiveness of the notion of love that is being presented. The Priest and the Levite: The Fatality of Conscious- Hess The priest and the levite are the type of those who fail in the school of love. Representative, first of all, of the twofold division of the tribe of Levi, they are the em-bodiment of the hierarchy of the old dispensation, a dispensation devoid of real freedom. They are actually men enslaved, clutching their alien gods which go by a thousand different names. They are enslaved to the various tyrannies of categorical and legalistic thinking, to idealisms which overlook the here-and-now individual in the name of futurity or collectivity. Here are the Pharisees who rejected Christ because He eluded those preconceived, static, and depersonalized archetypes which they had of the Messiah. Here, too, is the misguided spectator-priest of today who passes by life in the names of celibacy, intellectual pursuits, prayer, and a host of other things. Here is the religious man who has offered himself to God, so wrapped up and tightly closed that God Himself, as Claudel says somewhere, would break His fingernails trying to pry him open. Here is the re-ligious who has detached himself from everything except his detachment. Here is that devastating brood, the im-personal apostles of personalism, and those in love with "love" and nothing more. Here are those who are caught in what Pope John called "the fallacy of overlooking the little good at our disposal in the name of the unrealiza-ble 'better'." Here are men dedicated to "tomorrow" and who use and abuse today for their own ends; men who labor tirelessly for a vague, amorphous, impersonal "Society" and who step all over the people who live next door. Here are the men who will be charitable when things are set, conditions right--men who will dictate their own circumstances, name their own times. Here are men whose effectiveness is dissolved into nothingness because in the name of religion they flee the "world," Samaritans All VOLUME 24, 1965 203 Miclmel Dotty, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 204 forgetting that the spiritual exists for the world and that the function of the Church is to embrace the world much as a lifeguard does a drowning man or much as the Samaritan did the wounded wayfarer. These are men, in short, who have never really learned to say "we." They are those who would leap from the temporal, blind to the fact that God works immanently under their very noses, in the very next face that they meet. It is significant that the priest and the levite are repre-sentative of a class which today we would label "intel-lectuals." Here is the type of man minutely portrayed by such contemporary thinkers and writers as Thomas Mann and Andrd Malraux. These are men who are un-able to bridge through action that gulf of detachment which necessarily follows upon consciousness. In a sense it is man's fate, but paramountly it is the intellectual's scourge. For unlike the animals whose response is quick and instinctual, man with his withinness can, even in the thick of the most violent physical activity, reflect and debate and prolong to eternity that increment be-tween impulse and act. The man who is unable to bridge the gap, who becomes isolated on his "magic mountain," ultimately becomes a man who is untrue, since he neg-lects the truth of his convictions and commitments which can come only in the completion afforded by the act itself. The Samaritan: Spontaneity and Commitment The actions of the Samaritan have much to tell us about true love. The love that was his, that was Christ's, and that Christ would have our own, is a love marked by compassion, spontaneity, personal and lasting commit-ment. The Samaritan was a man who traditionally had in-herited and experienced apartheid---of locale, of creed, of social and political relationships. It should be remem-bered what sentiments the mention of a Samaritan would have evoked on the part of a first-century Jew. The Samaritan was the archetype of the alien, the Stranger, the heretic, the lost-one: in just the preceding chapter (9:52) Luke relates how the Sons of Thunder wanted to call down fire upon a Samaritan village; Christ's dealings with the woman at the well (Jn 4:5) were viewed askance by the disciples. But the appearance in the Gospels of the Samaritans as real individuals en-countered by Christ defies any categorical imposition of traits. A Samaritan was the only one of the ten lepers who returned to thank our Lord (Lk 17:17). He was a man committed, and a man who remained lastingly committed as did the Samaritan of the parable. The Samaritan woman at the well On 4:5) was a woman immediately attractive to us because of her honesty, simplicity, openness, and spontaneity. She wanted to share the goodness that had come her way. She brought others to Christ, and "they heard and believed for themselves." The Samaritan of the parable is a man marked by the spontaneity of his reaction. Both his emotional re-sponse and its resultant action are quick and full. Un-like the priest or the levite who stand for intellectual detachment, the Samaritan is instinctive, but in a thoroughly human way. He is a man who has cultivated receptivity. He is attuned to his entire surroundings. He does not channel or restrict the arena of his purview or of his action. He is open to all. He takes in all he passes by, ready and alert to act. He realizes that his first re-sponsibility is always to that which is at hand. He is completely arrested by the sight of affliction in another human being. "He took pity on him": the Greek word (esplagthtdso-mai) suggests a very human, a very physical emotion. Literally, he was stirred in his bowels (splfigthnos). It is a strong emotion, a pure emotion. And it is a loadstone to action. At times it must override the strict logic of justice or the dictatorship of a false prudence. Another name it has is mercy. What we see is a physical, particular, defi-nitely directed reaction to a particular and concrete in-stance of human affliction. The result of this spontaneous compassion is a spon-taneous recourse to action. The action is immediate and adjusted to the circumstances; it is the "little good at one's immediate disposal." Perhaps the Samaritan was later moved to take positive action towards effecting legislation for better and safer road travel. But this vi-sion of the "better," of the long-range good, did not obliterate the definite and immediate need of the robber victim. And primarily interested in conveying the dis-tinctive, primary, and essential note of Christian charity, Christ did not think it important to incorporate the long-range notion within the parable at all. That is not where the difficulty lies. The visionary can, as the priest and the levite had, blind himself to the live-a-day world in terms of which he is summoned to live out his vocation. The larger view, the looking-toward-tomorrow, are noble and necessary operations. Yet, they are never to be assumed as surro-gates for the immediate needs of today. The prompt and immediate action of the Samaritan protects him from the self-deceit endemic to the vision-ary. A man can easily deceive himself as regards his re-lationship to God, but he cannot as easily do so about his treatment of his neighbor. The truth of love lies in ÷ + + Samaritans All rot.urgE 24, 1,~,5 205 Michael Doroj, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 206 its "deed" (1 Jn 3:18). And St. John further warns us about self-deceit in this matter: "If any man boasts of loving God while he hates his own brother, he is a liar. He has seen his brother and has no love for him; what love can he have for the God he has never seen?" (1 Jn 4:20). These are harsh words in all but the ears ot~ the Samaritan. The Samaritan is remarkable for the sense of commit-ment he shows as he accepts the challenge and responsi-bility which the priest and

Issue 2.4 of the Review for Religious, 1943. ; A.M.D.G. Review i or Religious JULY 1~, 1943 ~ Shall Weo~Talk About Vocation? . ~The Edlfors Ignatius Of Antioch . -°. ¯ Augustine K~as "Chris÷ in the Refectory . w,~iam J. M,;ore Differing~Currents in the Liturgy ./ . G~rald Ellard Advice to a New Superior , A Spiritual Director Studies Du~ing Novitia÷e . . . . Adam . EII~s Si:,ruples versus Chastity . Gerald'~ Kelly Communication Book~Revlews Questions Answered Decisions of the Holy See ' " VOLUME II '- NUMBE~,4 REVIEW FOR- RELI.GIOU S VOLUME II JULY 15, 1.943 NUMBER OONTENTS SHALL WE TALK°ABOUT VOCATION?--The Editors .217 THE SPIRITUAL MESSAGE OF IGNATIUS OF ANTIOCH-- Augustine Klaas, S.J . 220 HOLY CHILDHOOD CENTEiXlNIAL . 234 CHRIST IN THE REFECTORY--William J. Moore, S.J .~.235 ¯ DIFFERING CURRENTS IN THE LITURGY, TOO--Gerald Ellard, 2S4.J3. BOOKLETS . 251 ADVICE TO A NEW SUPERIOR (By a Spiritual Director) .2.52 STUDIES DURING THE NOVITIATE--Adam C. Ellis, S.J .2.5.5 SCRUPLES VERSUS CHASTITY Gerald Kelly, S.J . 263 BEATING THE AIR IN PRAYER (A communicatiqn) .2.68 BOOK REVIEWS (Edited by Clement DeMuth. S.J.)-- THE EXEMPTION OF RELIGIOUS IN CHURCH LAW-- By the Reverend Joseph D. O'Brien, S.J. 270 ON THE PRIESTHOOD. By Saint 3ohn Chrysostom .272 THE BOOK OF CATHOLIC AUTHORS (2nd Series)-- Edited by.Walter Romig . 273 TALES FROM THE RECTORY-- By the Most Reverend Francis C. Kelley . 274 HOW TO THINK. By Arthur D. Fearon . 27~e THE LOVE OF GOD. By Dom Aelred Graham, O.S.B .2.7.5 HYMNS OF THE DOMINICAN MISSAL AND BREVIARY-- By the Reverend Aquinas Byrnes, O.P. . 276 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE . 277 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 26. Use of Golden Jubilee Gift . 278 27. Renouncing Share of Inheritance or 15ension . 278 28. Appointment of Local Councilors and Bursar . ~ . . 279 29. Title of "Mother" for former General .¯ . 280 30. Questioning Applicants about Parents' Marriage . 280 31.Canonical Meaning of "Legitimacy" . .280 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1943, Vol. II, No. 4. Published bi-.monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J." Copyright, 19,43, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Sub~¢rlption price: 2 dollars a year. Printed ia U. S. A. Shall We .Talk About: Vocal:ion? The Editors OUR recently concluded discussion of spiritual direc-tion indicated that ~ve can derive considerable profit from a mutual interchange of views. For this.reason we sl~ould like to continue the Communications department in the REVIEW and we think it advisable to directthe com-munications toward some d~finitely useful subject. From a number of suggestions offered us, we hav, e concluded that a~highly profitable subject would be Vocation. Certainly Vocation is an interesting subject to all of us, and atthis time it is more practical than tisual. For several years most religious institutes in this country, particularly those of women, have-been acutely conscious of the need of more vocations. The war is increasing the p~oblem. Any-thing we can do by way 6f mutual help in the present crisis will be a real contribution to the welfare of the Church. It is:onething to select a topic for i:lis.cussion; it is quite another to .determine individual aspects of the topic that are Worth discussing. In general it seems clear that our discus-sion should turn along lines that have specia.1 reference to priests and religious. The more specific determination of these lines will no doubt be brought out in the communica-tions. In the subsequent paragraphs we are attempt'ing to indicate a few questions that might be discussed more com-pletely if the readers are so inclined. Ther~ must be some among our readers whom God has blessed with more than ordinary success.in the work of fos-terin~ vocations to the priesthood or the religious life. This is not a talent in which one should glory or about which one should brag; yet neither is it a talent to be hidden under a bushel. A person thus blessed could probably make many 217 THE EDITORS helpfu.1 suggestions that other priests and religious could use. To publish such suggestions anonymously in a review for the exclusive use of priests and religious is surely within the most iigid requirements of humility. Attitudes of religious sometimes have great influence for good or bad in the development of religious vocations. At various times we have heard rather severe criticisms of three such attitudes that are said to impede the wholesome growth of vocations. Perhaps these criticisms are too severe or even unjust; but references to them may offer food for thought and discussion. - The. first harmful attitude is an erroneous estimation of the priesthood and the religious life with respect to. other Christian states of life. For instance, some religious are said to be entirely unaware of the fact that there is such a thing as virginity in the world. They do not realize ~ the excellence of virginity in itself, independently of tell-; gious vows and priestly consecration. Also, some religious o are said to give the impression that they do not properly understand the dignity and sanctity of marriage; they seem to think that all good young people should be priests or enter religion. A second harmful attitude is the false estimation of one's own institute with' reference to other religious insti-tutes: in a word, an inordinate devotion to one's own. A religious with this attitude is apt to disparage other orders and congregations, if not explicitly, at least by im131ica-tion. He may even try to hinder the freedom of the indi-vidual aspirant to choose the institute for which he seems to be best fitted; and in doing 'this he may even spoil a promising vocation. The third harmful attitude may be described in the following words written to a priest by a teaching Brother: "From experience I have gathered that the great 218 SHALL WE TALK ABOUT VOCATION? majority of our priests do not realize that a vocationto the Bro.the.rhood is a special vocation, nbt .just something one takes as a last resort'. It is a vocation which requires con-stant self-effacement, self-denial, and an' almost heroic. spirit of Faith. Yet to a large number of priest~ and 'to many others it is a vocation that has no.meaning." Enough for the criticisms. Another ~opic of interest is that of the loss of vocation. Is this problem more acute today than it used to be? Are there certain fundamental explanations of our losses? Are there remedie~ that can be applied more effectively than they have been applied in the past? The foregoing suggestions were selected at random, merely for the purpose of stimulating discussion. We hope our readers will think of other topics, as well as expand on these. The one thing that remains is to begi~ the discussion. If letters are sent we will print them. If the letters are too long, we may have to edit them; if they are too numerous, we may have to summarize them. We ask those who send communications to observe the following points: 1) As in the discussion on spiritual direction, our present purpose is positive. The aim is mutual help in a great apostolic work. Criticism of certain policies or atti-tudes may at times be necessary, but it should be offered in a spirit of kindness and with a view to mutual improve-ment. 2) Communications will be printed without names and without references to places, unless the senders explic-itly request that their names and addrehses be printed. 3) The communications should be addressed directly to: The Editors of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, St. Mary's College, St.Marys, Kansas. 219 The Spirit:uai Message Ignatius ot: An :ioch Augustine Klaas, S.~I. pOPE PlUS XII, in a stirrinig radio broadcast on Ascen-sion Eve 1942, bade us turn to the heroes of the primi-tive Church in order to "clear all mists from our minds" and to "put new life into ourhearts" in the dark, " threatening days through vchich we are passing. Most elo-quently he described these brave Christians of the first three centuries as "moral giants" and "athletes" ot~ Christ, vigor-ous in both thought and action. Such a moral giant and athlete of Christ was Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch in Syria, whose message comes to us clear and vibrant across nineteen centuries. It is something unique in Christianliterature; it is the impassioned, spirit-ual. message of a prisoner in chains impatiently hurrying to a martyr's death. Life and Letters The historical facts of the life of Ignatius are very mea-ger. He was probably a Syrian, born at Antioch. Neither the date of his birth nor the events of his early years are known with certainty. Legend has it that he was the little child whom Jesus singled out as an example of humility to the Apostles and.then took into His arms (Mark 9:35). Most likely, as Saint John Chrysostom asserts, he had seen the Apostles Peter and Paul, both of whom had dwelt for some time at Antioch, and had even been their disciple, since in the first century bishops were usually chosen from among the immediate disciples of the Apostles. Some think be was also a disciple of Saint John the Evangelist. At all events,. what is known for certain is that Ignatius was the third 220 IGNATIUS¯ OF ANTIOCH bishop of Antiocl~, succeeding Evodius, .who had. been ¯ appointed by the first .bishop of that city, the Apostle Saint Peter himself, During the reign of the Roman Emperor Trajan (98- 117 A. D.), a short but violent persecution of the Chris-tians broke out for some unknown reason, claiming Pope Saint Clement at Rome and the aged Saint Simeon, Bishop df Jerusalem, as illustrious.victims. Perhaps the most dis-tinguished martyr of this persecution, however, was Igna-tius. He was arrested, tried,and condemned to death °at Antioch in the early months of 107 A. D. (according to the historian Eusebius), and was sent off to Rome to be executed. The slow, wearisome journey through Asia Minor to Rome Ignatius made with other .condemned Christians, among Whom, it s.eems, were Rufus. and Zosimus. They were guarded by an escort of soldiers who were by no means p!easant travelling companions. Ignatius writes of them:' "From Syria to Rome I combat wild beasts, on lahd and sea, by night and day, chained to ten leopards--a company of soldiers,~who in return for gifts on!y get worse" (Ro-mans V, 1)1. In spite of thi~ brutal treatment, their jour-ney was like a triumphal march, .greeted as they were on all sides by the faithful of the places through which they passed. They made a halt at Philadelphia, another at Smyrna, where Ignatius was received by the bishop of that .church, Saint Polycarp, the future martyr, then a young.man, Hither also came delegations of Christians from various churches in Asi~Minor to salute Ignatius and to encourage him,to persevere. -The final stop was made at Troas., whence probably by way of Philippi and Dyrrachium they proceeded to Rome. 1The quotations in this article are translated from the Greek text of Ignatius' Letters, critically edited by Father Francis Xavier Funk in his Patres Apostolici, second edition, Tilbingen, 1901. 221 AUGUSTINE KLAAS During this protracted oia crucis Ignatius wrote seven letters of varying length: four from Smyrna, to the churches of Ephesus, Magnesia, Tralles, and Rome; three from Troas, to the churches of Philadelphia and Smyrna, and to Bishop Polycarp himself. These seven magnificent epistles, of undoubted authenticity, are "justly regarded-as the most precious heirloom of Christian antiquity.!'~ Written in a vigorous Pauline style, the letters of Igna: tius are filled with warm, sincere, earnest exhortation, and packed With theological doctrine on the Trinity, the Incar-nation and Redemption, the Eucharist, the Christian vir-tues, and the hierarchical nature of the Church. I.ndeed, chiefly on account of their unmistakable doctrine regarding the one, holy, apostolic, hierarchical Church, these, letters have been bitterly, but vainly attacked by Protestants for over two hundred years. The following is a typ!cal Christ-ol6gical passage: "There is one Physician, both corporeal and spiritual, born and unborn, God dwelling in flesh, true life in death, both of Mary and of God, first passible and then impassible, 3esus Christ our Lord" (Ephesians VII, 2). In these letters the word "Eucharist," meaning the Blessed Sacrament, appears for the first time in Christian literature (Smyrnaeans VII, 1; VIII, 1), as also the word "Catholic" applied to the Church of Christ (Smyrnaeans VIII, 2). Cardinal Newman, a profound student of patris-tic lore, does not exaggerate when he declares that "almost the whole system of Catholic doctrine may be discovered at least in outline, not to say in 13arts filled up, in the course of them.''3 They give Ignatius a just claim to the title of the greatest of the Apostolic Fathers. 2Bernard Otten, S.J., A Manual of the History of Dogtr, as, Vol. I, Herder, 1917, p. 65. 3John Henry Newman, Essays Critical and Historical, Vol.I, Longmans," 1901, p.,255. 222 IGNATIOS OF. AN~FIOCH Spiritual. Message " " What is I.gnatius' spiritual message to us in these Stormy times, so much like his own? What is that vital message of the early Church of the martyrs to which Plus XII so movingly calls our attention in his broadcast? The spiritual message of Ignatius of Antioch can b~ summed up Very simply: it is Jesus Christ. For this cou-rageous bishop Jesus Christ is all in all. Saint Paul preached closest union with Christ and Saint John taught us life in Cl~rist. Ignatius marvellgusly blends both these doctrines and inculcates them with extraordinary vigor. Christ is the ambient atmosphere in which Ignatius lives and moves; Christ is his interior obsession; Christ appears on every page, almost every line of his letters. I shall let Ignatius give us his message in his own words, as much as possible. It is true that he addressed it long ago to the clergy and faith-. ful of the churches of Asia Minor, but Plus XII says that he and his noble,, fellow-Christians are speaking to us today. "Abundant greeting in Jesus Christ"--this is his usual salutation to the churches, expressed in various ways, some-times twice and thrice over in the same letter. Jesus Christ is "our tr.ue life,~' "our inseparable life," "our unity of spirit," "our only Ma~ter," "our common hope." "Fo~ let us either fear the Wrath to come or.let us love the grace which is at hand, one of thetwo--provided only we bd found in Christ Jesus unto true life. Let nothing be. worthy - of you apart from Him, in whom I carry about my. chains, those_spiritual pearls in which may it be given me to-rise again through your prayers, which I beg I may always share . " (Ephesians XI, 1, 2). And. again, it is Jesus . Christ "WHO also was really' raised from the dead, His Father haVi_ng raised Him up, as in like manner His Father shall raise up in Christ Jesus us who believe in .Him, with-out whom we have no true life" (Trallians IX, 2). In 223 AUGUSTINE KLAAS every letter Ignatius gives himself a second name. It is always the same--Theophorus, "God-bearer";-and well might he have answered as the legendary third century Acts of Ignatius say he did when questioned about this name. "And who is xneopnorus. .the Emperor asked, and Ignatius replied, "He who has Christ in his heart." According to Ignatifis, there are only two classes of per-sons off this earth: those who live in and for Christ, and those who reject and deny Him. To the first class, com-prising the faithful, he says: "You do all things in Jesus Christ" (Ephesians VIII, 2). "You are therefore all fellow-travelers .along the way, God-bearers, temple-bearers, Christ-bearers, bearers of holy ti~ings, arrayed from head to foot in the commandments of Jesus Christ . And I am permitted to share your jsy . because, on account Of. another life, you love nothing but God alone" (Ephesians iX, 2)."I know that you are not puffed up, for you have Jesus Christ in you" (Magnesians XII, 1). On the other hand, those who reject .Christ are living corpses. "Of what benefit is any one to me, if he praise me, but blaspheme my Lord and do not admit that He was clothed in flesh? He who does not profess this has denied Him absolutely and is himself clothed with a corpse" (SmyrnaeansV, 2). But that is not all. ':As for me, unless they speak of Jesus Christ, I hold them to be tomb-" stones and sepulchres of the dead, whereon are inscribed only the names of men" (Philadelphians VI, 1). Avoid, therefore, those who are not Christ's. "Flee from those evil offshoots bearing deadly fruit, which if a man eat he presently dies. For these are not the planting of the Father: for if they were, they would appear as branches of the Cross and their fruit.would be incorruptible" (Tral-iians XI, 1; 2). "Abstain from noxious herbs, which Jesus Christ does not cultivate because they are not the Father's 224 IGNATIUS OF ANTIOCH planting . . If any man walk in strange doctrine, he has no part in the Passion" (Philadelphians III, 1, 3). And be yourselves genuine Christians, stamped with the image of God. "It behoovds us not only to be called Christians, but also to be Christians" (Magnesians IV,.1.). "For just as there are two coinages, ~he one of God, the other of the world, and each has its own stamp impressed "upon it, so unbelievers bear the stamp of this world, and believers the stamp of God the Father in love through Jesus Christ; and unless we willingly choose to die through Him in His Passion, his life is not in us" (Magnesians V, 2). "Wherefore, let us become His disciples, and let us learn to live like Christians. For whosoever is called by any name ¯ other than this is not of God. Get rid of the evil leaven which has become stale and sour, and be transformed into a new leaven, Jesus Christ. Be salted in Him, that none among you may be spoiled; since by your savor you shall ¯ be tested" (Magnesians X, 1., 2). Genuine Christians have faith and love, and these, lead to deeds. "None'of these things is unknown to you, if you have toward Jesus Christ perfect faith and love, which are the beginning and the end of life: the beginning, faith, and the end, love. And .wl, ien the two coalesce in unity it is God, and all other noble things follow. No man professing "faith, sins; nor does he who has love, hate. 'The tree is known by its fruit': likewise they who profess to be Christ's shall be recognized by their deeds" (Ephesians XIV, 1, 2). And What are these deeds? " 'Pray without ceasin~g" for other men also, that they ma~ find God, for there is in them a hope of repentance. Ac.cordingly, let them learn from you, at least through your deeds. Be meek when they are angry; be humble-minded when they speak proudly; oppose your/prayers to their blasphemies; in the face of 225 AUGUSTINE KLAAS their errors remain firm in the faith; be gentle when they are crud, and do not see.k, to retaliate. Let us be proved their brothers by our forbearance, and let us try to imitate the Lord--who was ever more wronged, more. despoiled, more despised than He?--that no growth of the devil be found in ¯ you, but that you may abide in all purity and sobriety in Jesus Christ, both in the flesh and in the spirit" (Ephesians X, 1-3). "Let us therefore do all things as though He were dwelling in us, that we may be His temples, and that He may be our God in.us" (Ephesians XV, 3). Hence, according to Ignatius, ~o be closely united to Christ, to live one's life in Christ, to be a bona Fide Chris-tian, means sinlessness, steadfast faith, strong love and Christ-like deeds. All this is fundamental. It is thus that one begins to be a "Christ-bearer." - But Ignatius goes- much further. He selects and emphasizes three particular means which will help greatly tO "put on Christ" ever more and more. It is these three means that make Ignatius eminently a guide for us today. . Un~t~l in Christ The first"important means stressed~by Ignatius is unity in Christ, that is, union with the bishop and other ecclesias-tical authorities, and also union with one another. We are one or-we are nothing: on no other point is Ignatius more repetitiously insistent. ' He counsels the Magnesians, who at the time had a young bishop: "It becomes you not to presumeupon the youth of your bishop, but, ou.t of consideration of~ the power of God the Father, to give him all respect, as I have learned that even the holy priests do not take advantage of his outwardly youthful appearance, but as men prudent in God they yield to him, yet not to him, but to the Father of Jesus Christ, to the bishop of a11" (Magnesians III,l). And to the Ephesians he says that "it is cle;ir that we must. 226 IGNATIUS OF ANTIocH look upon the bishop as the Lord Himself" (Ephesians VI, 1). ¯ The will of God, the will of Christ, and the will of the bishop are one and the same thing. "For this reason I took upon myself to counsel you to live according to the will of God. For Jesus Christ, our inseparable life, is the will of the Father, even as the bishops, appointed throughout the world, are in accord with the will of Cl~rist" (Ephesians IIL 2). "Therefore it is fitting that ~you should live in har-mony with the will of the bishop, as indeed you do. Fo~ your estimable prie~sts, worthy of God, are attuned to the bishop asthe strings to a harp. Hence, by your concord and harmonious love Jesus Christ is being sung. Now join in this~ chorus, each of you, that being harmoniously in accord and receiving the key of God in unison, you may s~ng with one voice through Jesus Christ to the Father, that He may .both hear you and recognize bE your good deeds that you are members of His Son. It is then .to your advantage to be in blameless unity, that you may have always a part in God" "(Epbesians IV, 1, 2). "For as many as belong to God and Jesus Christ .these are with the bishop" (Phila-delphians III, 2). Not only must there be union with the bishop but also with the priests and deacons. "Let all men likewise respect the deacons as Jesus Christ, even as they should respect the bishop as a type of the Father,. and the priests as the council of God and the college of the Apostles. Without these, there is noChurch" (Trallians.III, 1). Andthe faithful must be united to each other. "Work together, struggle together, run together, .suffer together, rest together, rise up together as God's stewards, assistants and servants. Please Him for whom you fight, from whom you receive your pay; let none of you be found a deserter. Let your baptism r~main as your weapons, your faith as a 227 AUGUSTINE KLA~.S helmet, your love as a spear, your patience as your panoply . Be therefore long-suffering with one another in gentle-ness, as God is with you" (Polycarp VI,, 1, 2). "Be then all in conformity .with God and respect one another and let no man regard his neighbor according to the flesh, but love one another in Jesus Christ always. Let there be nothing in you which can divide you . . . " (MagnesiansVI, 2). "'In your common assemblies let there be one prayer, one - supplication, one mind, one hope in love, in blamelessjoy, which is Jesus Christ, than whom there is nothing better" (Magnesians VII, 1). If, living harmoniously with each other, we must be closely united to the bishop, th~ bishop.on his part must be united also to us, his flock, so that there may be perfect unity in Christ's mystical body~ Ignatius gives excellent advice to the bishop in a letter to his good young friend Polycarp, Bishop of Smyrna. "I exhort you in the grace with which you are clothed to press forward in your course and to exhort all men that they may be saved. Defend your office in all diligence of flesh and of spirit. Watch over unity, than which there is nothing better. Bear with all men, as the Lord also bears with you; suffer all men in love., as you indeed do. Be diligent in unremitting prayer; ark .for wisdom greater than. you have; stand guard, having a sleepless, spirit. Speak to each according to the manner of God; bear the ills of all as a perfect athlete. Where there is more toil there is also much gain" (Poly~arp I, 2, 3). "If.'you love good disciples, it is no credit to you; bring rather the more troublesome to subjection by your gentleness. Not all wounds are healed by the same plaster. 'Be prudent as the serpent' in all things and always 'simple as the dove' . Be sober as God's athlete. The prize is immortality and eternal li'fe" (Polycarp II, 1-3). "Let not those who seem to.be trustworthy, but teach .228 IGNATIUS OF ANTIOCH strange doctrine, dismay you. Stand firm as an anvil which is smitten. It is a quality of great athletes to. take punish-ment and to win. Especially must we endure all things for God, that He may also endure us. Be more zealous than you are. Learn the opportune times for action. Await Him who is above time, eternal, invisible, w.ho for our sakes became visible, who is intangible, impassiblef who suffered for us and in every way endured for us" (Polycarp III, 1, 2). "Let nothing be °done without your consent and do nothing without God. " (Polycarp IV, 1). The Euc, barist and Unitg The unity in Christ so emphatically stressed by Igna-tius is fostered greatly by participation in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and by partaking of the Eucharist, "a pledge of everlasting life in Jesus Christ." "Obey the bishop as Jesus Christ obeys His Father, and obey the priests as if they were the Apo.s'tles; respect~the deacons as y.ou do God's com-mand. Without the bishop le~ no one do anything which concerns the Church. Let that be considered a lawful Eucha-rist which is celebrated by the bishop, or by one whom he appoints. Wherever the bishop appears, there let the people be, just as wherever Jesus Christ is, there is the catholic Church. Without the bishop it is not lawful either to bap-. tize or to hold an agape [a Eucharistic love-feast]; but whatever he approves that is also pleasing to God." (Smyrnaeans VIII, 1, 2). Heretics, by disbelief in the Eucharist., disrupt unity. "They abstain from the-Eucharist and from prayer because they do not acknowledge that the Eucharist is~ the flesh of our Savior Jesus Christ, the flesh which suffered for our sins, the flesh which the Father in His goodness raised up again~ Therefore those who gainsay the gift of Godare perishing even as they wrangle; it were better for them to 229 " A~GUSTINE KLAAS partake of the Eucharist, that they too might rise again" (Smyrnaeans VII, 1). "Endeavor then to celebrate one Eucharist, for there is one flesh of our Lord Jesus Christ and one chalice for union with His blood, one altar, just as there is one bishop with his priests and deacons, my fellow-servants,. " (Philadelphians IV, 1). Ignatiu~ speaks of the Ephesians as "breaking one bread, which is the" medi-~ cine of immortality, the antidote against death, a pledge of everlasting life in Jesus Christ" (Ephesians XX, 2). He himself longs for union with his Eucharistic Lord. "I take no pleasure in the corruptible foo.d or the delights of this life. I desire the 'bread of God,' which is the flesh of Jesus Christ, 'who was of the seed, of David,' and for drink I desire His blgod, .which is incgrruptible love" (Romans VII, 3). Imitation of the Suffering Christ Union with Christ and life in Christ are achieved also by a third means, by imitating Him and modelling one's life on His. Since Ignatius' thoughts constantly .revert to the painful death which is waiting for him at the end of his present journey/he is preoccupied with imitating the suf-ferings and death of Christ. To shed one's blood in mar-tyrdom beconsiders the closest imitation of Christ; it is per-fection itself. The only true disciple of Christ is he who gives his life for Him. Ignatius, ' shackled and condemned° to death, now only begins to be a real disciple of his suf-fering Master and he Will be a perfect disciple only through a bloody martyrdom. " Let no one interfere to rob him of this prize, for whoever shares in Christ's sufferings and death will also participate in His glory. "Honored with a name most pleasing to God, I laud the Churches in the chains which I bear, and I pray that in them there may be a union with the flesh and- blood of Jesus 230 IGNATIUS OF ANTIOCH Christ, whois our ev.erlasting !ife, a union in faith and love, to which nothing is preferable, and aboveall a union with ~lesus andthe Father, in Whom, if "we endure the full on-slaught of the prince of this world.and go unscathed, we shall attain unto God" (Magnesians I, 2). "But if, as certain godless persons, that is, unbelievers, affirm. "His suf-fering was only a semblance . why am I a prisonei, and why do I even long to fight with the beasts? In that case, I die in vain; then indeed do I lie concerning the Lord" (Trallians X, 1). "If these things were done by bur Lord only in semblance, then I too am chained only in semblance. Why have I given myself up to death, to fire, to the sword, to wild beasts? Because to be near to the sword is to be near to G6d, and to be with wild beasts is to be .with God, pro-vided it be in the name of 2esus Christ. That I may suffer along with Him, I endure all thin.gs, and He strengthens me who is the perfect Man" (Smyrnaeans IV, 2). In the letter to the "Romans we find passages on mar-tyrdom which are sublime and immortal. Only a few can be cited here. Ignatius feared the Roman Christians would intercede for him with the government and thus deprive him Of his martyr's crown. Sohe .begged them to "grant me nothing more.than that I.may be immolated to God, while an altar is still ready; in order that forming a choir in charity you may sing to the Father in Christ ,lesus, because God deigned to grant that the bishop of Syria be found at the setting of the sun, having summoned him from its rising. It~is good to set from the world unto God, that I may rise unto Him (Romans II, 2). "I am writing to all the Churches and bid all men know that I die willingly for God, unless you should hinder me. I beseech yo.u not to show me an unseasonable kindness. Let me be the food of wild beasts, th.rough whom I can attain to God. I am God's wheat, and I am being ground 231 AUGUSTINE KLAAS by the teeth of wild beasts that I may be fdund ChUtist's pure bread. Rather entice the beasts that they may become my tomb and leave no trace of my body, so that when I have fallen asleep in death, I.shall not be burdensome to anyone. Then shall I be truly a disciple of Christ when the world shall not even see my body. Beseech Christ for me that through these instruments I may become a holoca.ust to God. I do not command you as did Peter and Paul. They were Apostles, I am a convict; they were free, I am to this very moment a slave. But if I suffer, then shall I be a freed-man of Jesus Christ and in Him I shall rise free. I am-learn-ing now in my chains to extinguish every human desire" (Romans IV, 1-3). "O that I may have joy in the beasts, prepared for me, 'and-I pray that they too may be found prompt for me; I will even entice them to devour me quickly, so" as not to be like those whom they did not touch through fear. Even if they themselves be unwi.lling, I will force them to it. Grant me this favor; I know what is expedient for me. -Now do I begin to be a disciple. °May naught visible or invisible envy me my attaining to Jesus Christ. Fire, the cross, combats with wild beasts, cuttings, manglings, wrenchings of bones, hacking of limbs, crushing of my whole body, cruel tor-tures of the devil, let them all come upon me, provided only I attainto Jesus Christ" (Romans V, 2, 3). "The confines of the earth and the kingdoms of this world shall profit me no~hing. It is better for me to die in Christ Jesusthan to reign over the ends of the earth. I seek Him who died for us; I desire Him who for our sakes rose again from the dead. The pains of birth are upon me. Bear with me, brethren! Hinder me not from living, do not wish my death. Do not give to the world one who desires to be God's, nor seduce him with material things. Allow me to recelve the. pure light; when I have arrived thither, 232 IGNATIUS OF ANTIOCH then shall I be a man. Let me imitate the Passion of my God" (Romans VI, 1-3). "The prince of this world wishes to tear me to pieces and to corrupt my mind towards God. Let none of you present help him; be rather on my side, that is, on God's. Do not speak of Jesus Christ and yet desire the world. Let no envy dwell among you. Even if I myself, when present, shall b~seech you, do not obey me; rather follow this which I write to you. For I write to you in the midst of life, yet as one yearning for death. My human love is crucified and there is in me no fire of love for material things, but only 'living water' speaking and saying within me 'Come to the Father' " (Romans VII, !, 2). Death of Ignatius This urgent summons to the Fath4r was soon to be realized. Arriving in Rome in the latter part of the same year 107, Ignatius heroicallymet the d~ath he so ardently longed for, probably in the Coliseum. The~e are extant no. authentic details of his final combat with the beasts, nor can the date of his death be determined with accuracy. Shortly after, his relics were taken back to Antioch and there they remained until 63 7 when they were removed to the church of Saint Clement'in Rome where they still rest. The uni-versal Church celebrates his feast on February 1st. .Ignatius was every inch a bishop of the Holy Roman Catholic Church. Self-sacrificing in his devotion to duty, fearless in defending the faith, untiringly solicitous~ for unity, ever an inspiring apostle by his personal holiness as well as by his words, he was one of the most profoundly Christian heroes of all times. As a,true shepherd, he laid down his life for his flock. He carried out fully what he himself once wrote: "Teaching. is good, if the teacher does what he says" (Ephesians ,XV, 1). He went even further, 233 AUGUSTINE KI~AAS he sealed his message with his blood. Hence we accept that message, for it rings true. It teaches us union with Christ and life in Christ by means of deep faith and an active love that overflows in good works, by close harmony with God's representatives in His Church and with our fellowmen, by participation in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and in the Eucharist, by the close imitation of 3esus Christ, especially in. His Passion and Death. The spirited message of Ignatius was.often read at the gatherings of.the faithful of the primitive Church; it gave comfort and inspiration to brave hearts in many a dark hour. It has not lost its appeal and significance today, for the message is ,Jesus Christ, who St. Paul says i~ "the same, yesterday and today, yes, and forever" (Hebrews 13:8). HOLY CHILDHOOD CI=NTI=NNIAL The Pontifical 'Association of the Holy Childhood is celebrating its hundredth anniversary this year. The Association was founded by Bishop Charles de Forbin- Janson, who was born in Paris in 1785. \Vith the help of Pauline Jaricot, foun-dress ~f the Propagation of the Faith Society, be made plans for the establishment of the Association of the Holy Childhood. In 1843 the first council of the Association was appoi'nted. The membership was to be m~de up of childrer~ "throughout the world and each child, besides praying for the missions, was to give a penny a month. While the baptism of dying pagan children was to be the chief aim of the Association, it was determined that the society would also undertake the. erection of orphanages, work-shops, and other institutes for children. , ~ The fi}st returns of the Holy Childhood Association were only $25,000; in 1940, they had grown to $2,000,000. This money has been spread into some six hundred mission centers of the Catholic world. Pope Plus XI raised the Associa-tion to pontifical rank in 1926. Our Present Pontiff, Pius XII, as Cardinal Pacelli, was the Holy Childhood Association's Cardinal Protector. 234 Christ in the Refectory William J. Moore, S.J. RELIGIOUS are used to hearing the words of our Lord read to them during meals in the community refec-tory. The.re is a special.appropriateness in this practice "arising from the fact that a surprising number of these words w~re spoken by our Lord while actually in a refec-tory, or at least at times when His hearers were concerned, about food and drink. Man's necessary, concern about bodily food supplied occasions for miracles and discourses on the spiritual food of the soul. Page after page of the Gospels deals wkh Christ's mealtime instructioris. At the marriage feast of Cana our Lord changed xvater into wine and first manifested His glory. His disciples, too, were at the wedding celebration, and their belief in Christ ¯ was confirmed by the miracle. Such marriage feasts as this lasted seven days~ and a great quanti~y of wine was needed for the large number of guests who might drop in at' any time. Sympa.thetically our Lord relieved the distress of the young couple when their supply failed. (John 2.) Wearied after a !ong tramp over the hill roads, Jesus stopped at the well of Jacob. His disciples xvent ahead to buy food in the villhge close by. Christ. ~vas thirsty and asked the Samaritan womah for a drink. Then He took occasion to teach this poor sinful woman of her need of the living water of divine grace. She could offer Him cool water from the well, but He offered to her refreshing draughts of grace for her arid soul. (John 4.) Levi, the publican, was sitting at the tax-collector's booth one day. "Follow me," said Christ. Leaving all things, Levi followed Christ. To commemiarate his call to the apostolate, Levi (or Matthew, as he is better known) .235 ~rlLLIAM J. MOORE gave a great feast for Christ. A large gathering of publi-cans was at table with the Savior and Levi. ~'Why do you eat arid drink with publicans and sin-ners?" the grumblirig Pharisees and scribes asked the dis- . ciples. Christ answered the quest.ion Himself. "It is not the healthy who need a physician, but they who are sick. I have not come tocall the just, butsinners to repentance.~' As a physician Christ had to deal with and gain the confi-dence of.His patients. ' Then He explained why His disciples did not fast like those of ~lohn, and spoke a parable about the difference between the old order and the new. One Sabbath day Christ and His disciples were walking through a field of standing grain. The disciples were hun-gry and plucked some of the grain and .ground it in their hands. The Pharisees objected that this little operation°of milling grain by hand was a violation of the Sabbath. Christ replied that He was Lord of the Sabbath. The delighted disciples, thus justified, continued joyfully to munch their pitiful little meal of dry grain before the angry eyes of the discomfited Pharisees. (Luke 6.) Luke tells of a dinner at the home'of a Pharisee. Quite Often Christ dined with Pharisees, just ~is he dined with publicans. On this occasion a woman in the town who was a sinner, upon learning that Christ was at table in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabasterjar of ointment; and standing behind Him at His feet, she began to bathe His feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hairoff her head, andkissed His feet, and anointed them with oint-ment. (L,uke 7.) To understand such an occurrence, we must remember that ~lewish customs differed from ours tod~ly. Strangers were often permitted to look on at great feasts. The guests usually did not sit in chairs as we do, but. reclined on couches, resting on the left elbowand eating with the right 236 " CHRIST IN THE REFECTOR~ hand. The couche~-were placed in the foim of a horse-shoe, so that servants could easily get to the tables plac.ed before.~he diners. T.,he Pharisee host was sh~cked. If Christ had divine knowledge, reasoned the Pharisee, He ought to know that the woman was a sinner, and should not let her touch Him. But .Christ at the dinner table contrasted the host's cold_ness and neglect with the sorrowful love of the peni-tent, )~nd gently told the woman, "Thy sins are forgiveh . Go in peace." It was evening in the desert. Five thousand men, not counting women and children, were with Christ far from village food markets. Only five loaves .and two fishes were to be had. The disciples urged the Master to dismiss the people at once, that tl~ey might get back to town as soon as possible. But Jesus said to the disciples, "They do not need to go away; you yourselves give them some food . And looking up to heaven, .[He] blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to His disciples, and the disciples gave them.to the crowds. And all ate and were satisfied." (Matthew 14.) Four thousand men, apart from children and women,, were with Christ on another occasion. The compassion-ate Savior said, "They have now been with Me three day~, and.have nothing to eat; and I am unwilling to send.tl'iem away fasting, lest they faint on the way." Once more our Lord multiplied loaves and fishes in a wondrous miracle to foreshadow the magnificent spiritual feast of the Holy Eucharist. (Matttiew 15:) Mary was sitting at our Lord's feet while her sister Martha was. busy straightening up tl~e house and watching the fire where a tasty meal was simmering. Our Lord did not condemn Martha for.her care about dusting and cooking. He did' approve of Mary's action, and spoke 237 WILLIAM J. MOORE the classical text for'proving the superiority of the con. templative life over the active life: "One thing is needful. Mary has chosen the best part." (Luke 10.) A Pharisee asked Christ to dine with him. Christ accepted, went in to the supper room, and reclined at table. He had of set purpose omitted the ritualistic washings which the Pharisees had elevated in importance to laws of supreme moment. When the Pharisee.host criticized Christ " in his heart, the Mast(Jr excoriated, the hypocrites' who were fanatical about washing their hands and cleansing pots and cups, but cared nothing .about washing sin from their souls. Fearlessly He denounced the whole brood of Pharisees and scribes who boasted that they had paid tithes " on everything they ate, even on the tiny little spice herbs such as mint. Christ was a guest Who never-bowed to the pride Or passion of His host. (Luke 11.) We find Christ a guest again in the house of a ruler of the Pharisees. It was a Sabbath. A great quantity of food had been prepared ahead, of time, lest there be any unnecessarywork on that day. Of that the Pharisee.s were very scrupulous, but of mercy they cared not. In fact they sought to trap Christin His mercy. Before the entrance to.the house a man ill with dropsy' was stationed. Would Christ cure the man on the Sab-bath? The Pharisees watched for a supposed violation of the Sabbath. Resolutely Christ cured the man and asked the hypocrites if theywould not drag an ox or ass out of a pit into which it had fallen on the Sabbath. Of course they would do so. Bu~ if an animal could be cared for at the-expense of some labor, why not a man? And the Pharisees "could give Him no answer to these things." The Savior then went into the dining room with His host and the other guests. The Pharisees were jealously pushing forward to secure each one for himself a place of 238 CHRIST IN THE REFECTORY honor. Christ spoke the parable of The Last Seat to rebuke their pride. Then He taught a lesson in charity. The rich Pharisees gloried in their great generosity in pro-viding sumptuous dinners for many people. The guests, however, were. usually well-to-do friends and relatives who~ could pay back in kind. In the parable on Poor Guests, Christ declared that true charity would consist in providing a feast for the poor.who could never issue a return invitation. A reward for such charity would be reserved for the host in the kingdom of heaven. At that, one of the guests exclaimed, "Blessed is he ~vho shall feast in the kingdom of God." The speaker was a Pharisee who assumed as a matter of .right that all Pharisees would have a place at the.heavenly feast. Christ, in the parable of a Great Supper, told the Pharisee that God had- indeed invited them tothe heavenlyb~nquet, but that they had contemptuously refused to come. The poor Jews and Gentiles would now take.their places. (Luk~ 14.) Zacheus, the publican of Jericho, was short of stature, but his hand was large to .grasp exorbitant taxes for the Roman treasury and his own private purse. He knew that his deeds were evil, knew the hatred with which the Jews cursed him. He had heard, however, of one great. Jewish teacher whowas notorious for kindness to the publicans. Full of curiosity to see Jesus of Nazareth, Zacheus hurried from his.office when Christ came to Jericho. Careless of his dignity, the short little man climbed a sycamore tree to see the friend of publicans and sinners. The unexpected happened. Christ stbpped beneath the sycamore, looked up to where Zacheus was perched, and said: '~Zacheus make haste and come down; for I must stay in thy house today." In amazement and haste Zacheus jumped down and welcomed Christ joyfully. BUt the crowd murmured 239 WILLIAM 3". MOORE Saying, "He has gone .to be the guest of a man who is a sinner." It was the old reproach, heard so frequently in the Gospel narrative. Christ was a friend of sinners.-. He ate at table with publicans and sinners. Over and over the same refrain of bitter complaint. BUt Christ went on converting sinners, saving what was lost. To the divine guest Zacheus said: "Behold, Lord, I give one-half of my possessions to ~he poor, and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold." (Luke 19.)' It.was at a supper in Bethany that the greed of ,Judas became apparent. Simon the Leper (now cured) was host: Laza.rus, raised~ from the dead, was/~ guest near 3esus, ~nd Martha was s~rving. When Mary anointed Christ's feet, the thievish treasurer complained that the valuable oint-ment should have been sold for 300 denarii (about $51). and the proceeds given, to the poor. Christ waved aside the objection and praised the good work of Mary. H6w much of our Lord's teaching was done at meal-" time is well exemplified in the five full chapters which St. ,John devotes to the actions and discourses of Christ at the Last Supper. Ftirthermore, St. ,John does not repeat what the three other evangelists had already ~eported about the institution of the Blessed Eucharist. 3ohn tells instead of Christ's humility in washing the feet of the Apostles; the commandment to love one another; the beau-tiful allegory of the Vine and the Branches; .the.promise of ~he Holy Spirit; the priestly prayer of Christ "that all .may be one" even as the Father and Christ a~e one. (,John,. chapters 13-17.) The central event of the Last Supper is recorded by the Synoptics. "While they were at supper, ,Jesus took bread, and blessed and broke, and gave it to His disciples. and said, 'Take and eat, this is My body.' And taking a cup, He gave thanks and gave it to them, saying, 'All of 240 CHRIST IN THE REFECTORY you drink of this; foi: this is My blo~d of the new.cove-nant, which is being shedfor many unto the forgiveness Of sins'." (Matthew 26.) It was in the apostolic refectory that¯ Christ gave us His own body and blood for our spiritual food. It was there in a supper room that He ordained the first priests. Every church is a supper, room where Christ is offered again under the appearance of bread and wine on the altar table. Every church is a supper ro6m where God feeds His children with the Bread of Angels. It was a glorious Resurrection Day. All heaven rejoiced; but the disciples on the road to Emmaus Were sad. The .traveler who approached and walked with them ¯ gradually raised their ¯spirits until at last ¯their hearts burned within them as they gained a fuller understanding of the ScriptUres. "Stay with us," they pleaded as the stranger would have left them at Emmaus. The stranger agreed. "And it came to pass when He reciined at tame with them, that " He took the bread¯ and blessed and broke and began handihg it to them.~ And their eyes were Opened, andthey. recognized Him." ~ Christ their Risen Lord was with them at the supper table. Back to Jerusalem to the Apostles the two disciples hurried. The Eleven would not believe their report. Then Christ appeared to the Eleven as they were at table. ."See My hands and feet, that it is I Myself," He said. "Feel-me and see; for a spirit'does not have flesh and bones, as you see I have." Still the Apostles disbelieved and marvelled for joy. "Have you anything here to eat?" asked our Lord. They offered Him a piece of broiled fish and a honeycomb. And when He had eaten in their presence, He tSok what remained and gave it to them. (Luke 24.) St. John tells us of the ins.titution of the Sacrament of 241 WILLIAM J. MOORE Penance on this same Resurrection nigh~. To His Apostles Christ solemnly.said: "Receive the Holy Spirit; whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain; they are retained." (2ohn 20.) St. John's epilogue contains one of the most touching accounts of our Lord's considerate goodness. All night the Apostles had been fishing without success. Our Lord appeared, granted them a splendid catch, and prepared for them a hot breakfast of bread and fish on the lake shore. The poor fishermen were cold and weary and hungry after a chili night on the water. BreakfaSt over, orie ofthe most important events in history took place. Christ conferred on Peter the primacy in the Church. To Peter was given the commission, to feed Christ's sheep, to rule and guide them with full power " from God. Christ taught the people wherever they gathered. Since men most frequently assemble to take meals together, Christ frequently taught at meals. When the peopl.e gathered elsewhere, Christ preached elsewhere. St. Mark has 'two passages which must have had their ~ounterparts on scores 6f busy days. Such a large crowd gathered, says the evangelist, in chapter three, that "they could not so much as-take their food." And in chapter.six he says that so many people were coming and going that "they had no leisure even to eat." 242 Differing Current:s in !:he Lil:urgy, Too Gerald Ellard, DIOCESAN priests sometimes make it a matter of jest that, whereas pries.ts of religious institutes ard_ently advocate that worship-reform we call the liturgical movement, they themselves follow .in their chapels and" churches, ' more likely~than not, some variant liturgy and not the simon-pure Roman Rite. Again;they tease a little to the effect that members of religious orders look at the w.hole liturgical movement from an angle determined, by the specific outlook of their own religious group. Thus, the statement is made: "If I havea missionary from such an order, he preaches his kind of a liturgical movement, and anathema to all else. Then, the next year, a missionary from another order comes around, and his liturgical movement is something quite differen!! Why don't you religious who preach retreats and missions get together and fix on a definite program to preach? Before you kno@ it, we p/irish priests may get ahead of you, by organizing on our own, and then convert you to. our parish-type_ liturgi-cal movement in the Roman Rite.". . Behind this badinage and laughter there, is some real perplexity .and concern. It may prove helpful to religious as well.as to diocesan priests to remind ourselves, in Father Reinhold's vigorous phrase, that the Church does not seek to. impose one liturgical strait, jacket. That adjective, "catholic," after all, means "faking in all, taking in .the ~hole," and the Catholic liturgy includes the various gulf-streams of religious observance, as well as the vast stretches of the diocesan priesthood. A roundabout approach may be the shortest road to the subject. "Prior.to the feast of Candlemas the large monastic faro- 243 ~ERALD ELLARD ily at St. Meinrad's, Indiana, engages in the exercises of the annual retreat. In 1942 the retreat for the monks them-selves was being conducted by a- Franciscan friar, that for those in the Major Seminary by a monk from another abbey, while the last, for the Minor Seminary students, had been entrusted to the writer. Our dinner and supper were served in the monastic refectory, but breakfast was served the retreat-masters in the Guest Dining Rooml So it came abo.u~ that we had the pleasure of a short chat each morning as we breakfasted. My recollection of those little inter-ludes over thecoffee-cups is very pleasant, indeed. I .dare say the topic of the actual conduct of the retreats was the only one we avoided bringing into the discussions. We all . realized that in our several chapels we were conducting retreats that differed from one another not a little, although each one of us was endeavoring to herald the message of the one Christ.' While we all proclaimed Him, the monk saw Him after the manner of'the sainted Benedict, the friar as had the seraph on Mount-Alverno, and I somewhat after the manner of. the soldier of Manressa. All three concep-tions of Christ are true--if only partial: the unsearchable riches of Christ's Personality Will never be exhaustively comprehended by any man. More than once, therefore, as this daily contact of ours was broken off, I thought of how we three retreat-masters then and there gave a partial illustration of words of the late Peter Lippert that have stood the test of print since 1912. The passage, as a quotation, is somewhat long, but, I trust, justifiab!e for its interest. In formulating his expression of the ideal of the Jesuit vocation, Father Lip-per. t had sought clarification in comparisons: "For the sons of St. Benedict, of whose spirit all con-templative orders have a share, Christ is the worshipful King and.Lord, whom they serve by means of. their noc- 244 DIFFERING I~U~RENTS'IN THE LITURGY, TOO turnal psalmody, their earnest and solemn 'chan.t, the majesty of tbleir liturgy, their soulful, sacred art, their inspired craftsmanship.- This; tog, far from the bustle and noisy conflict of the world. They resemble the angels of the sanctuary: consecrated to the service of God, they st, and ceaselessly before the Throne of the Lamb, and enact the holy service of the Christian altar of sacrifice. With their praying art and their imperturable monastic peace, they present a vision or a foreshadowing of the Church Trium-phant, and hence above earthly conflict or earthly sorrow. Hence flows that harmony, that Wrought-out smoothness, so to speak, that sense of right proportion in their way of life, which even in the earliest period of the preaching of. the "Anglo-Saxon and Germanic missionaries made such "pro-found impression on~ the barbaric peoples of the forest. "Francis of Assi~si was the seraphic lover of the helpless Child in the st:;ble and of the crucified Saviour. He" was steeped, first o~ all, in the mystery of Bethlehem, a mystery of the most touching infancy and childlikeness. But no less was Francis held by that most frightful self-abasement of Golg01~ba. It was Francis who erected the°first-Christ-mas crib, and then ranged him, self, as an empty-handed mendicant, by .the manger of the divine Beggar-Child. So ¯ also by the Cross of the rejected, the last and the least of all men, he took his stand as a least brother. He considered,. too, the unending multitudes of his spiritual sons as his fellow-sentinels at the posts of the poverty and the humilia-tions of the great Son of God. Hence it is surely not by chance that for centuries precisely the Franciscans are the CuStodians of the Holy Places. Nor is it by chance that to -the Franciscans the hearts of the people have always be~ longed, for thesimple folk understand nothing so well as the mysteries of Bethlehem and Calvary. "Well, then, how is the image of Christ conceived and 245 GERALD ELLARD expressed in the Order of Loyola? In the Jesuit Order tl~e basic concept is of Christ as Founder of God's Kingdom, as conqueror of the whole world of the infidels, as the plan-ning, suffering, fighting Warrior for the honor and will of the Father.''1 In so far as he is a son of Ignatius, then, the 3esuit-strives to see "how the Lord of the whole world chooses persons, and sends them out the whole wor!d over, spreading His sacre~t doctrine: 'My will is to.conquer the whole world of the infidels; whoever will come with Me must work by day and watch by night, so as to share in the~ ultimate victory'." Since every one readily concedes that a Benedictine, a Franciscan, or a Jesuit, will eachconduct a specific type of retreat, I do not think it should be considered strange if various religions orders represent differing currents in the Church's li.turgical life. The modern apostolate of the lit-urgy affords ample scope for the labors of every order, and the religious, along with the pastoral clergy, have all their part in the Opus Dei. Let us enter an abbey church, as I have visited many in Eurgpe and several in this country. We are struck at once by the enormous size, especially, as a rule, by the towering height of the enclosed space. Dominating the whole inte-rior is usually a majestic fresco of Christ looking down' from. the high curve of the apse. Of almost equal promin-ence to the casual visitor are the serried choir-stalls, row on long row, each rising higher than the preceding. In ~ccord with the recommendatibn that the Blessed Sacrament be not reserved" at the altar before which the choir-functions are performed (canon 1268), the high altar does not enthrone the Eucha.rist, but none can fail to sense the very real way 1Translated from P. Lippert, Zur Ps~fcbologie des desuitefiorden (Miinchen: K6s¢l, 1912), pp. 26, 27. 246 DIFFERING CURRENTS IN THE LITURGY, TOO in which the heavenly Christ lends His glorified Presence, so to speak, go the holy place. "Thou, O Christ, art King of glory!" The entire passage of the Te Deum from which this ~jacul.ation is quoted proclaims as with trumpets what We might call the devotional atmosphere of the buiding. Here day by day and night by night the monk works at the work of God. O~ce he has been ordained, the priest-monk's own private~ Mass will be, as a rule, in some distant side-altar chapel. His daily conventual Mass, preceded and followed by one of the Canonical Hours, is ideally always a High Mass, at Which he himself is engaged, in singing either ¯ the Ordinary, or also the Proper as well. Every public Mass for the priest-monk is a sung Mass; every weekday is ¯ in this respect like.Sunday. In another very real sense "the Sunday atmosphere" pervades the abbey church. The calendar of the Romano- 'Monastic Rite, which is the Church's liturgy as given to the monks, minimizes Masses in honor of the saints, to multi-ply those of Sundays and ~:e.riae, on which, outside of Lent, the Mass of the preceding Sunday is repeat.ed. Thus, the "calendar for 1942 provided for a maximum of about 130 ¯ days on which Mass might be offered in honor of the Bles-sed V!rgin, the Angels, or Saints, despite the fact that the saints of the great Benedictine family are legion. Two out of every three' Masses were of the Dominical cycle, with the Saints being commemorated. ~ We enter in turn a Franciscan church. Here the altar" can be proportionately closer to the people, because the choir-stalls are set in a walled-off oratory at the side. .The peoplenever attend the ch0ir-service of the friars. But diocesan priests and regulars of orders founded.after that of St: Francis should .take a very lively interest in that choir-service, since the Roman Brevihry we use is a gift from the Franciscans. There was not, up to the thirteenth century, 247 GERALD ELLARD p a fixed arrangement of the Divine Office, obligatory on all as to details. Nor was it necessary, as long as the Office was performed in choir, that all its parts be found in one and the same volume. But just at the timeof the Poor Little Man of Assisi the papal curia was often abroad on trips, and this exigency of travel was then creating a breviary in which Psalms, Scripture lessons, and biographical lessons ,were all contained in one book. Francis, legislating for friars who were to go everywhere, stipulated in the Rule of 1223: "Let the clerics perform their Office according to the arrangement of the Holy Roman Church," by which he meant this new papal breviary then developing. The upshot, of this was that the breviary, as then 'definitely "fixed" for the Franciscans, was soon adopted by Rome and became that of the entire sphere of the Roman Rite. But it is with. the Mass-book, the Missale Semphico-t~ or~ar~tzro, the Church;s liturgy as given to the' friars, that we are more interested. One will note how the feasts of saints have multiplied, there being in the 1942 calendar about 240 days on which Masses are from the Sanctoral Cycle: mimbilis Det, s ir~ ,ar2cti~ ,tds. The' book is well named "Seraphic," because no less than 89 days provide Masses for the Saints and Blesseds of the Franciscan family. The psychological atmosphere, what we might call the "feel" of the Se.raphic Missal, may perhaps be illustrated by referring to the two great Franciscan sequences which the Church has put into our Roman Missal, the Dies I~ae, known with certainty only as of Franciscan authorship, and the Stabat Mates, which scholars now ascribe to Bona-venture, founder after Francis of Franciscanism. Perhaps, when we enter the Franciscan church, we find the church densely crowded, and the Forty Hours' Exposi-tion in progress. This is a typically Franciscan devotion, as common .today as the Christmas Crib or the Way of the 248 DIFFERING CURRENTS IN THE LITURGY; TOO Cross. Very likely a fiotice near the entrance will direct our attention to the fact that an evening service in honor of S~. Anthony is scheduled for later in the week. This serv-ice, we are told, will consist of the recitation of the rosary, hymn-singing, and "Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. There is nothing specifically .Franciscan about any single feature in that devotional pattern, and the pattern itself is ~epeated in practically every church in the land. True, it is not the the classic Opus Dei of Benedictine surroundings, but it can provide for popular participation in the public worship of the Church and is conducted according to norms approved by her "(Canon 1256). Granting that some of these devotional exercises co01d be~ from the litur-gical point of view, a good deal better,let us also freely grant that they are basically qood. Since there was mention a moment ago of classical Benedictinism, it is gratifying to recall that an American Benedictine translated and published the words of a Euro-pean writer dealing with this very problem of popular devotions: "Today, as in ~he past,.the~e must prevail in this d~partment of liturgical activity a certain largeness of scope and adaptation. We must be ready, to give proper recognition in the lituygy to those elemefits of popular reli-gious exercises in which the devotion of the people is really and truly expressed. And the same can be said of popular devotional hymns.''2 Just as the Gospel' of Frai~ciscan4ove has never been exhausted, so there is still, room in the lit-urgy for yet further Franciscan, and other, devotional additions. " , Ignatius, that would-be, crusader, and actual com-mander of troops, would have a man withdraw for a space, "to abide in all possible privacy; so that he may be free to ~J. A. Jungmann, Liturqical Worship, translated' by "a monk [Rev. Otto Eisen-zimmer] of St. John's Abbey. (New York: Pustet, 1941), p. 123. 249 GERALD ELLARD go daily to Mass and Vespers, without any fear of his acquaintances getting in his,way," and in this privacy study Christ's-plan of salvation against the ever-recurring questions: "What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What ought I,do for Christ?" Ignatius, too, would have all influenced by him praise, as very touch-stones of orthodoxy, "chants, Psalms, long prayers in church, the Hours appointed for the Divine ONce, and all Canonical Hours" (Sp(ritual Exercises). "But because the occupations which are assumed for the good of so_uls,'.: he states in his Constitutions, "ore both .important and pressing, and the term of our residence in any place uncer-tain, the members of the Society will not recite the Canon-ical Hours in choir.'" Hence, neither before the altar, nor in an adjacent ora-tory, does one find dhoir-sialls in the liturgical setting of the Jesuit's life. This is not a Jesuit singularity; the same is true for most ~of the clerks regular of post-Reformation institutes. Save that the feasts of his order are celebrated, the Jesuit, like other clerks regular, follows the Roman Rite in all particulars. The liturgical pattern of a Jesuit's nor-mal routine (unless he is assigned to par6chial work) is that he celebrates low Mass, and, as far as he assists at Mass, it 1s a low Mass ordinarily, a High Mass very rarely. Thus these three orders, which we are taking as repre-senting religious p~iests generally, have each their differing modes of carrying out the sacred liturgy of the Catholic Church. Conditioned, then, and to a degree limited, by the liturgical practices of his religious institute,-the monk; the friar, or the clerk regular comes as retreat-master, or missionary,or week-end assistant, into the parish. There he is confronted by the full and majestic program of tl~e liturgical movement in all its manifold phases. In con-junction with the pastoral clergy, each religious will apply 250 DIFFERING CURRENTS IN THE LITURGY, TOO the principle of active lay-participation in the situation as encountered, and with the tools he has and can handle. This should amply.explain to the parish priests them-selves, or recall to interested observers of other religious orders, the reasons for" these somewhat diff.ering concepts of the scope and aims of the liturgical movement. The variation in emphasis is kimply unavoidable, given hiaman limitations. True, the several.interpretations are partial, but each is valid and true hs far as it goes, and each is an integral component in the symphony of praise ascending to God in the O/~u~ Dei. In abbey, convent, chapel, and church, if there is no single liturgical strait jacket, there is still what a tireless scholar of the last century used to ca!l the one, holy, Catholic, and apostolic liturgy. BOOKLETS Father Foley's article on the Catholic Action Cell, in the May, 1943, number of the REVIEW, seems to have stirred considerable interest among many of our readers. These rea~lers (and perhaps many others) should be interested in "The Technique of the Catholic Action Cell Meeting, compiled by the Reverend Stephen Anderl and Sister M. Ruth, F.S.P.A. The compilers drew their material largely from the Priests' Bulletin, published by the Catholic Action Federations of the Archdiocese of Chicago, from articles by Father William Boyd in Orate Fratres, and from Mr. Eugene Geissler's book, The Training of Lay l~eaders. Father Anderl and Sister M. Ruth have dbne a-good job of compiling and offer many practical sug-gestions for organizing a cell and conducting, a meeting. 'The booklet costs 15 cents and can be obtained from St. Rose Convent, LaCrosse, Wisconsin. The Third Order Director is a pamphlet containing practical hints for adminis-tering the Third Order. It should be helpful not only to priest moderators, but also to Brothers and Sisters of various religious communities who are now in charge i of' Third Order groups. The pamphlet covers all practical details briefly and clearly. Price: 15 cents. Office of Publication: Third Order of St. Francis in the U. S., 3200 Mera'mec St., St. l-ouis, Mo. 251 'Advice I:o a New Superior By a oSpiritual Director, IN MY CAPACITY of spiritual director, I have been asked several times for advice by newly appointed reli-gious superiors. I have always considered these requests very seriously beforeGod; and the advice given, simple though it was, appears to have been helpful to the superiors who asked it. The points they seem to have appreciated most are the following. Humilitg , Ecclesiasticus tell~ us: "The greater thou art, the more humble tfiyselfin all things" (3:30). In another 151ace (32:1), the same sacred writer admonishes us: "Have tl-iey . made thee ruler? be not lifted up: be among them as one of them." Similar advice our Lord gave to His disciples: "You know that .those who are regarded as rulers among the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. But it is not so among you. On the . contrary, whoever wishesto become great shall be your servant; and whoever wishes to be first among you shall be the slave of all; for the Son of Man also has not come to be served but to serve, and. to give .his life as a ransom for many" (Mark 10:42-45). Behold your model, who was in the midst of His disciples as "one who serves" (Luke 22:27) ; there is no better model than Jesus. Justice and Kindness "And even as you wish mento do to .you, so also do you to them" '(Luke 6:31). There is your rule of action according to the maxim of Christ. Treat your subjects now as you wanted to be treated by your superior when 252 ADVICE TO A NEW SUPERIOR 3iou were a subject. Be a father (or mother) to them. Let your love and good .will be equal towards all; beware of favoritism, which is a source oof discord in a community. Be kind to the sick, have regard for the aged,.be considerate with the young. B~ sincere with your. subjects, "knowing that their Lord who is als0 your Lord is in heaven, and that with him there is no respect of persons" (Ephesians 6:9). Never betray their confidence, so that they may always trust you; for confidence once lost will seldom be fully .regained. If you should make a mistake or unwittingly ¯ wrong .a subject, do not hesitate to admit your mistake and to undo the wrong, for no one is infallible. Thus you.will give your subjects an example of humility and of justice, and it will increase their esteem for you and their confidence in you. Provide generou_sly for all their needs; never be niggardly with them on the plea of poverty. Try to produce a cheerful spirit in your community especially in time of recreation. This is the time for reli-gious to relax after the strain of the day's work; it is not to be a wake, Don't do all the talking yourself, and let not your presence be a damper on your subjects' joy. "Be among them as one of them." Let all join in to make the recreation religiously pleasant. The result will be. a greater spirit.of recollection during the time of silence. Prudence Avoid extremes in all things. Virtue takes a middle course. Be slow to judge and slower to condemn; hear both sides with equal patience and charity. Make no important decision without mature deliberation. Lean not too much on your own Wisdom; take counsel with a competent, unbiased, trustworthy and experienced person. If neces-sary, get the approval of your higher superior. But-- what is more important still--have recourse .to the Holy 253 ¯ A SPIRITUAL DIRECTOR Ghost, the Spirit, of Truth, that He may enlighten you to choose what is best. Firmness B~ firm, but with a firmness always tempered with' charity, prudence, and mercy; a firmness free from harsh-ness and severity. Be meek, but with a.meekness that is not weakness. Rule ~.tour communit!t b~t your example rather than. b~/~/our words. "Even if a person is caught doing .something wrong, you who are .spiritual instruct such a one in a spirit of meekness, considering thyself, lest thoualso be.tempted" (Galatians 6: 1). DO not reproach your sub-jects or nag them, but charitably call their attention to .what ought to be corrected. Never act on the .spur of the moinent, especially under the influence of any passion, lest you commit a graver fault than the one you are trying to correct; but go first to consider the matter before Jesus in the Blessesd Sacrament. Pra~/er " Cultivate a spirit of prayer. Often betake yourself to the Tabernacle, and there lay your problems before Jesus, saying to Him in the words of the Psalmist (69:1), "O God, come to my assistance; O Lord, make haste to. help me." Keep in touch with God at all times and hnder all circumstances in a spirit of Faith. And in your prayer, examine yourself from time to time on the various bits of advice given here. 254. S :udies During !:he Novifia :e Adam C. Ellis, S.J STANDARDS for the.teaching and other professions are high in the United States, and demand long years of careful preparation, It is not' surprising then to find religidus superigrs eager to have their subjects continue their studies as soon as possible after entering religion. Hence arises the practical .question: what about studies during the novitiatd? We shall, try to learn the mind of the Church through a brief study of her legislation on thissub, ject. Legislation of the Church I. On June 28, 1901, the Sacred Congregation of Bishops and Regulars issued a set of regulations called Normae for the government of religious institutes with simple vows. Article 73 of these regulations forbade all studies during the first year of novitiate in all cases, that is, whether one or two years of novitiate were had. Article 74 allowed a moderate amount, of study during the second year for those institutes which had two years .of novitiate. Nothing was prescribed regarding the nature of these studies. II. In 1908 Pope Pius X reorganized the Roman Curia and divided the Congregation of Bishops and Regulars into two new Congregation's, the second of which was called the Sacred Congregation of Religious and was given complete and exclusive jurisdiction over all re.ligious, both of orders and of congregations. On August 27, 1910, this new Congregation, with the explicit approbation of Pope Pius X, issued ~an instruc- 255 .~DAM C. ,ELLIS tion,. Ad Exploraf~durn Anirnum, regarding studies during the novitiate in all order~ and congregations of men. - In a preamble the Instruction first stated that the pur~ pose of the novitiate is to test the mind of the novice and gradually to imbue it with the spirit of religious perfec-tion by means of various spiritual exercises. Then a com-mon .experience was cited: namely, ~the fact that the con-stant- practice of pious exercises, even though they be varied, tends to 'tire the mind, especially in.the case of young people, and, when exercised cofitinually in the course of the day, is apt to render the will less attentive to them. Finally the advantages of a moderate amount of study during the n6vitiate were called to mind: for the novic,es, by helping them to retain what they havb already learned; for superiors, bygiving them some .idea of the talents, aptitude, and diligence of the novices. In order that this moderate ~amount of study might safeguard the novices from the strain.ot~ the constant prac-tice of spiritual exercises, and in. order to obtain the bene-fits'just mentioned, the Instruction laid down the fol. lowing regulations which were made obligatory for all: 1) Novices should devote themselv~es to private ¯ study one hour each day, except Sundays andfeast days. 2) The master of novices, or his assistant, or one of the professors of humanities, should supervise these studies. This same person might .give instruction to the assembled novices for one hour, three times a week at most. over and above the daily hour of private study. 3) While these instructions given in common .were not to be considered as regular classes "(veri norninis schola censeri nequeat), still they should not be a mere exercise in mortification. Hence the novices should apply themselves seriously so as to derive real profit from them. Studies taken up should correspond to the nature of the 256 STUDIES DURING THE NOVITIATE order or congregation. The vernacular, Latin and G~:eek, were recommended, either by way of repetition of what the novices had already learnt, especially in the matter of grammar, or by way of reading selections from the works of the Fathers and ancient ecclesiastical writers outstand-ing for their literary style. Ambrose, 'jerome, Lactantius, ,John Chrysostom, and Eusebius, as.well as the Greek texts of.St. Luke's Gospel and of the Acts of the Apostles, were ¯ cited as examples of such readings. Written and oral exercises were also recommended. 4) The instructor presiding ox;er these studies should give a written report on the diligence and progress of ea.ch novice to the superior general or provincial before the novices were admitted to the profession of vows. III. The Code of Canon Law, which was promul-gated on Pentecost Sunday, May 27, 1917, and which began to bind one year later, Pentecost Sunday, May 19, 1918, has this brief statement doncerning studies in-the novitiate: "During the year of novitiate the novices . . . are not to devote themselves (dedita opera vacate) to the formal study of letters, scienc.es, or arts',' (canon 565, § 3). The Code, th.erefore, does not retain the obligations of either the Norrnae or the Instruction. However, these documents, particularly the InstrUction (which is cited as one of the sources of the canon), may be Used in inter-preting the present legislation. In the light of this former legislation, we may say that it is within the spirit of the present law to allow a moderate amount of time for study in the novitiate, provided such study does not interfere with the principal purpose of ~he novitiate which is "to form the novice in the mould o~ the religious life by prayer, meditation, the study of the rules and constitu-tions, instruction regarding the vows and the virtues, exercises suitable to the acquiring of virtue and the 257 ADAM C. ELLIS uprooting Of vice, as well-as to regulating the moverhents ofthe soul (canon 565, § 1)." IV. Pope Pius XI sent an Apostolic Letter, Unigeni-tus De~ Filius, dated March 19, 1924, to all supe.riors gen-eral of orders and congregations of religious men, regard-ing the selection and training of subjects. Two para-graphs of this letter are pertinent to our subject. The first pertinent paragraph contains the studies to be required of candidates for admission to the novitiate of a.clerical institute. It refids as follows: "You must see to it, therefore, that after the young candidates for the reli-gious life have been seasonably and prudently selected, they receive, along with such training in piet~r as is suited to their age, instruction in secondary studies which ,are usually given in schools and colleges; sb that they do not enter the novitiate until they have ~ompleted the curricu-lum of the so called 'humanities,' unless in individual cases rather grave reasons mal~e it advisable to provide other-wise." For the United States this is interpreted as meaning the completion of High SchOol studies, including Latin. .For the duration of the war, owing to the present draft laws, superiors would be justified in admitting candidates. ~to the novitiate who have not ~ompleted their High School studies. Such studies, however, should be completed after the novitiate, before the study of philosophy is begun. This is prescribed in an Instruction of the Sacred Congregation. of Religious, dated .December 1, 1931, regarding the training and testing of religious candidates for the priesthood. The second paragraph of the Pope's letter pertinent to the subject under discussion insists on devoting the time of the novitiate to the exclusive spiritual training of the novices. He says: "Putting-aside all worldly amusements and studies 6f all branches whatsoever, let the novices 258 STUDIES. DURING THE NOVITIATE devote themselves, under the wise direction of their mas-ter, to the exercises of the interior life, .and to the acquire- .ment of virtue, especially of those.virtues which are closely connected with the vows of religion, that is, poverty, obedience and chastity~" V. Finally we have an Instruction of the Sacred Con-gregation of Religious, dated November 25, 1929, regarding the teaching of Christian Doctrine to all mem-bets bf lay insti.tutes of men-and women. The pa~'t referring to novices reads as follows: "During the time of probation and novitiate the young men and women shall reviewtheir Christian Doctrine and learn it more thor-oughly, so that each one shall not only know it by heart, but also be able.to explaifi it correctly; nor shall they be admitted to take the vows without a sufficient knowledge thereof, and a previous examination." Norms For Present Practice Taking into consideration all the documents qtmted above, we may formulate the principles regarding studies during the novitiateas .follows: Christian Doctrine must be studied, by all novices of lay institutes for the purpose of reviewing what they already know as well as of acquiring a deeper kov~ledge of their holy religion. In order to attain this end, it is very desirable that formal classes .in which the Christian Doc-trine is explained by a capable teacher be held once or twice a week. The teacher may be either a priest or an older, experiencedreligious. No other studies are .of obligation in the novitiate. How.ever, it is not contrary to the mind of the Church to devote a moderate amount of time to such studies, pri-vately or in class. In fact, this may be positively encour-aged, provided the purpose of these studies be kept in view and all harmful effects be eliminated. 259 ADAMC. ELLIS The purpose of these studies is to benefit the novices by helping them to retain the knov~ledge they have. already acquired, as well as by providing them with some neces-sary relaxation from the strain of multiple religiousexer., _cises. A secondary consideration is the information made available to superiors regarding the talents and diligence of the novices. Such studies must not be made a major item in the daily order of the novitiate; nor may they be allowed to become a source of distraction or detriment to the .spii:- itual life of the novice. Hence it seems obvious that no formal courses of instruction may be allowed whose sole purpose is to impart knowledge With a view to credits. Some Practical Suggestions Such are the principles to be followed in making plans' for studies inthe novitiate. .,in the application of these princil~les, superiors may find the following suggestions helpful: 1) The study of the English language is generally useful. In this connection, some few classes at least in spelling may be necessary, since this subject has become a lost art for many of our young.people. 2) For clerical institutes, _as well as for lay institutes in which the Divine Office or the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin is recited in Latin, a moderate study of that lan-guage is recommended. Its.purpose should be to ground the novices,in the essentials of grammar and simple corn- ,position. 3) The fundamentals of Bible-and Church History may be given either separately, or in conjunction with the study of Christian Doctrine. 4) Tr,aining in Gregorian Chant is desirable for all 260 STUDIES DURING THE NOVITIATE novices. Two half-hour periods per week would not. seem too much for this important subject. .5) Some practice in penmanship for those whose writing is hardly legible is to be encouraged. 6) As to foreign l'anguages, it is certainly desirable that the. novices should not forget what they have already learned; and each novice should be encouraged to keep up a.ny one of these languages to which he has already devoted one or more years of study. This may be d6ne by private reading or, if. the numbers warrant it, by some classesheld during the summer months. It does riot seem to be in keeping with the mind of the Church for a novice to begin the study of a .modern language. 7) Ten to fifteen .miiautes of setting up exercises daily will prove helpful to all novices, provided these exercises are given for reasons of health, and not to impart the science, of ph~csical education. 8) Courses in p~dagogy and education, as well as in the sciences, mathematics, and profane history, are out of place in the. novitiate. 9) As to the fine arts, they have no place in the novi-tiate curriculum. Specially gifted novices who hive had considerable .previous training might be allowed a mod-erate amount of practice in music or drawing during the second year of novitiate. Amount ot: Time to be Det~oted to Study Exclusive of the classes in Christian Doctrine and Plain Chant, not more than five hours a. week should be devoted to private study, and not more than three hours a week to class work. This is the norm laid down by the Instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious and 'approved by-Plus X. In place of three periods of sixty minutes each, it may be found more convenient to have 261 ADAM C~. ELLIS four class periods per week of forty-five minutes eaeh. ~Atthe most, relatively little time m.ay be given to study during the novitiate, and it is evident that only one or the other subjec~ suggested above can be satisfactorily treated. I~: is much better to concentrate on one or two subjects than to try to .get a smattering of four or five in the time.allotted. Non multa sed multum applies here if anywhere: Conclusion Religious superiors should ever keep in mind that the sole purpose of the novitiate is the religious training of th~ novices. Let them ponder the words of Pope Plus XI in the "letter of March 19, 1924: "Let "the novices never for-get that they will be for the rest of their lives such as they were in the novitiate, and that ordinarily it is most useless to hope that a novitiate once made with little o~ no fruit, can be supplied later on by a renewal of the spirit of the novitiate." It is, therefore, a very shortsighted policy, and one detrimental to the best interests of the religious institute as a whole, to. attempt to introduce into the novi-tiate any kind of formal courses of studies with a view to professional standing in later life. As we have seen, the reasons for allowing any study at all in the novitiate are to. help the novices retain, the knowledge they have already acquired, and to add a certain amount of pleasant variety-to the regular 'orde~ of spiritual.duties and exercises, thus helping them to avoid any overstraining of the" nervous system which may result in physicalor rnentaI exhaustion, and may manifest itself in scruples or melancholia. Let superiors be. conv.inced that after a fervent novitiate the young religious will devote themselveswholeheartedly to their studies, and in a short time make up for any apparent loss dt~e to a lack of formal study during the novitiate. 262 Scruples versus Chas :it:y Gerald Kelly, S.J. IN THE MAY, 1942, number of this REVIEW (I, p. 187) the readers were introduced to Scrupulosus, a typical victim of that gnawing and ~ unfounded fear of sin known as scruples. In the article referred to it was pointed out that a supreme difficulty for Scrupulosus is to acquire the "human way of acting": he is unable to-resign himself to the fact that human problems cannot be solved with the exactness of mathematical problems. Two examples of his diffi-culty-- confession and the Eucharistic fast--were described in the former article; the present article deals with a third. " Perhaps no other sphere of human life entails as much mental torture for Scrupulosus as does the practice of chastity. This is hardly surprising, because the practice of chastity demands a special blending of idealism an~t common sense. Though often referred to ¯ as "the angelic virtue," chastity is essentially a human virtue and it must be practised in a human way. Before illustrating Scrupulosus' problem with chastity, it may be well to call attention to certain cases which" very likely are not real scrupulosity. I refer to those casesin which, though many symptoms of scrupulosity are present, the basic difficulty is rather ignorance than fear. For instance, there are some good people who suffer from an undue axiety regarding chastity because they really do not know what chastity is. At some time in their lives they got the notion that ¯ chastity includes just about everything pertaining to the discipline of the senses and the affections; and because of this erroneous widening of the scope of. chastity they are unnecessarily fearful of.violating the virtue. T'his type of worry can be dispelled by the simple process of obtaining correct information as to the meaning.of chastity. Other good people know, at least in a general way, the scopeof chastity, but do not know the difference between temptation and sin in this matter. Such people are ignorant of 'the simple principle that u2hat is not udlful cannot be sinful. They are apt to brand as sinful, imagi'nations and feelings that are no more wilful than a shudder or the blink of an eyelash. They set themselves to do the impossible, that is, to exclude even spontaneous sense impulses; and when they 263 GERALD KELLY 'have failed to do this, the~" think they have sinned. The obvious result is discouragement, "worry, fear: the. obvious remedy is instruc-- tion. Our genuine.Scrupulosus knows the meaning of chastity and of sin; in fact, he may have even a superior degree of theoretical knowl-edge. But be is afraid to apply it practically to himself. F~ar enslaves him and paralyzes his judgment. He does not trust himself; he can-not or will not, put his confidence in God. In the previous article about Scrupulosus we contrasted his con-duct with that of Humanus, who was considered as typical of the ordinary sincere human being. Perhaps it may help to continue this contrast Wi~h re~ard to some of the normal problems of chastity. Take the question of "bad thoughts." Both Humanus and Scrupulos.us are subject to them, and each has characteristic reactions to them. Humanus knows, of course, that disturbing imaginations are apt to come unbidden into. the mind and that they are often accom-panied by tempting feelings and impulses. Nevertheless, though not impruden~t, he is not afraid of them nor perpetually on, the looko.ut for them. When they do pass through his mind, he ignores them. Even when they persist and grow strong, he is usually content with the quiet judgment, "I don.'t want these things," a'short aspiration for grace, and a sincere, calm. attempt to think of other things. Occa- .sionally he may find it advisable to read a book to distract t-fimself. Now and then he even has dotibts about his guilt; but these doubts are not a. source of worry for him. He knows this is a human prob-lem, and he deals with it the human way. Unlike Humanus, Scrupulosus is afraid of bad thgughts, o When he hasn't any, he is afraid that he will have them; and this makes him more susceptible to them. And when they do come, his fear .that he will give in to them incites him to engage them immediately in an interior wrestling match instead of resorting to the much more salu-tary. method of ignoring them. ~t isa wrestling match that seldom results in a complete victory for Scrupulosus. " His common sense tries to draw him away from ¯ the combat with the quiet, cheery message: "Dofi't bother, about these things. If you let them alone they won't hurt you. Rem(mber it's not :your fault they're here. Involuntary things are. never sinful." But the voice of his fear, louder hnd sharper than that of common sense, goads him on. "That's just the point," argues fear. "'Are they SCRUPLES VERSUS CHASTITY involuntary? They're pleasant, aren't they? Maybe you do want them! Maybe you did something that brought them on! Maybe. they're the result of your other ~ins! And even if you don't want them now, maybe you will want them. You'd better act fast. You'd better pitch them out right now, or you'll be gu'ilty of mortal sin." ¯ Blinded by fear, Scrupulosus ignores the voice of cofnmon sense. He tries to shake the thoughts out of lqis head; he clenches his fists; he prays desperately. He keeps his nerves at bowstring tautness, so that fear can play his haunting challenge on them~ And when the temptation is over--for a while---he looks back on it with the eyes of fear. He dare not decide that he didn't sin; yet he's not sure that he did. Then he's not sure that he isn't sure; and in the end he suc-cumbs not to a judgment, but tO a despairing conviction dictated by fear: "I guess-I must have sinned!" The foregoing are more or less typical reactions to involu6tary and unforeseen thoughts .and feelings. Another problem concerns " oluntary~thoughts and actions that are good' in themselves, but which are quite likely to be accompanied by temptations against chastity. There are many such thoughts and actions: for example, the study of the Sixth Commandment, the study of physiology, nor-mal social dealings with certain attractive persons, the care of the sick, the care of one's own body, reading that contains suggestive descriptions, and so forth. Many people know from experience that such things as ,these are apt to excite impulses and feelings that would be unchaste if deliberately indulged in. Hence arises the problem: must all such thoughts and actions be avoided? For determining whether any deliberateaction or-line of thought that is likely to result in physical disturbances andtemptatdns against chastity is permissible, the following set of questions is simple, yet scientifically sound: (1) Is the action itself impure? If it is~ it is wrong; if it is not, the remaining questions are applicable. (2) Is my motioe impure, that is, am I seekifig to arouse passion or trying to lead on to an impure action? (3) Have I a r~asonable assurance of preseroing self-control, if I should be tempted? (4) Have I a relatio.ely su~cient reason for this particular action or line of thought --in other words, is the good to be accomplished of sufficient value to justify my tolerating the physic~al reactions and te, mptation? For example, consider the case of. one who needs iristruction con-cerning chastity. It may be that the instruction itself, at least in the 265 GERALD KELLY .beginning, will be a source of disquiet to him. Foreseeing this diffi-culty, he can satisfy the demands of conscience by applying the four questions to his problem. The application might run somewhat as follows: (1) The action? Certainly the study of chastity is/not wrong in itself, other-wise not even priests could study or give information. ~2) The motioe? . In this case the purpose is to obtain useful, even necessary information, and the eventual, peace of mind that comes with it. "The evil effects adcompanying.the study are merely tolerated. (3) controI? This is is a personal problem; yet the normal good person who is not accus.tomed to sin against chastity and who is willing to ¢ta'ke the ordinary means of safeguarding his will against temptation usual!y has a reasonable assurance on this point. (4) SuOicient -Reason? Such reasons are relati~re, depending on the degree of the. disturbance and the force of ~he temptation. In this case, since the information is really useful, even necessary, it constitutes a sufficient reason for tolerating even strong physical reactions and ~temptations. The first of the questions would seldom pr.esent serious difficulty to anyone who is well-instructed as to the meaning of chastity, though, of'course, it is the great stumbllng-block for the ignorant. But it is well to note that the other three questions can rarely be answered with perfect exactness. They carry us definitely into the human sphere; they involve delicate subjective elements and the weighing of .rather intangible pros and cons. Most people have to be content with answering" these according to a "rough estimate." Humanus doesn't mind "rough estimates." He makes them often in all spheres Of life. Why should he demand more in the matter of chastity? Suppose," for instance, that his work calls for.the .reading of a book that he kfiows will be a source of some disturbance to him. His motive? Well, he knows he might deceive himself; yet he is not conscious of any impure motive or self-deception now, and he does have a rather obvious good purpose. Hence he coficludes that his motive is good. His self-control? .Yes, he has occasionally lost self' cofltrol in temptation, but it was only occasional, and he now h~s whatappears to be a prudent confidence that he can control himself; so hedoesn't-worry about that point. Does the good outweigh the evil? Humanus knows that he cannot put the good' effects of his action on one side of a scale and the evil effects on the other; but he also knows that the reading is necessary, or at least definitely useful. 266 SCRUPLES VERSUS CHASTITY for his work, and his good sense tells him that this outweighs merely unintentional physical reactions and.temptations. 'Life is seldom all white; a bit of black must often be tolerated. Scrupulosus detests "rough estimates." Each of the last three questions affords his fear a veritable field day. "How do you know you have a good motive? Lots of people act from hidden impure motives. You yourself fiave had evil motives before. You're just trying to cover, up your guilt so that you can enjoy yourself . . .'. "As for self-col~trol, .haven't you 10st it before? Even if your motive were good now, how could you know you wouldn't weaken? This temptation may be especially strong. Remember what the Scrip-ture says about the man who thinketh himself to stand. You're putting yourself in th'e proximate occasion of sin right now; and that means you're already sinning . "Good and evil! How can you balance, good and evil? A little bit'of evil outweighs a vast amount of good. Furthermore, how do you know this reading is useful or necessary? You don't really need it. You could get along without it. It's easy to deceive yourself into thinking things are necessary .or useful when pleasure is connected verb them. That's what" you're doing now--decei'~ing yourself. Then you'll go. to confession and deceive your confessor." But remem- ¯ bet: ~ou can't dece[oe God!" The second struggle ends in the same manner as the first--with Scrupu.losus a beaten man. If he does the things he has a perfect right to do, his fear continues to plague him, especially with the taunt that he is acting "against his conscience"; if he doe~ not do these things, he is deprived of many useful, even necessary benefits of' normal human living. And even then h~ is not at peace. The result of these interior conflicts is often a profdund ~tiscour-agement. Scrupulosus may begin to look upon chastity as something impossible for him, and this leads to the very ~eal danger that he will cease to care whether he practises it. His scruples, unlike a truly delicate conscience, become the worst enemy to his chastity. One remedy for this condition is to relax. If Scrupulosus can-not climb the fence, perhaps he can duck under it. And how can' he relax? By trying, to see the real absurdity of his frantic efforts to be absolutely certain of things; by living a normal life, despite the pain of fear; by trusting himself more; and by trusting and loving God. 267 Beating t:he Air in Prayer [EDITORS' NOTE: During the course of the discussion on spiritu.al direction, a priest who is. interested in the subject of "direction concerning prayer" sent us a long letter on the subject. We were unable to print the letter at that time. We are publishing it now under the title, Bea.ting the Air in Prat.ler.] THE NEED of spiritual direction presupposes the need of progress in the interior life, and one of th~ common gages of such pro-gress is prayer. Father Leen remarks: "It is a sad thing that of all those who start' out with such confidence and such good. will on the supernatural life, so few attain to any marked degree of spiritua, l-ity . Resistance to grace is the reason of the absence of gkowth in the spiritual life. Yet it would be hard to say that resistance,to grace is in the majority of cases deliberate. It is quite possible that it may proceed from want of spiritual enlightenment and that great numbers of failures are to be attributed not to bad will but to imperfect under-standing'. One who has some expekience in dealing with souls°. cannot fail to remark that very many good and promising beginnings end in disappointment and discouragement" (Prooress Through Mental Pra~er, pp. 13, 14). One is forced to concur With that judgment. The conviction grows with repeated experience that an understanding of progress in prayer is not as widespread as it sh6uld be. For instance is it not an implicit denial of anything like progress in prayer to expect that older religious" will pray in exactly the same way and according to the same ~method as novices? Yet in some plates the same matter for prayer is read to all, and, worse' still, it 'is read aloud during the very time of prayer, thus making it impossible for those who should be practiced in mental prayer to give to any one thing the prolonged attention of soul that should be characteristic of progressing prayer. One obstacle to progress in prayer is the fear that some s~uls entertain 'of progressing from strict meditation to the simpler forms of prayer, lest they be guilty of the heresy which they have heard called Quietism. A director who suggests a change is apt to be considered an innovator or anti-traditionalist. Yet sometimes a change is neces-sary. We are often fold, or we read, that we must be patient with aridity in prayer, that all God wants is the effort. It is true that He 268 ~EATING THE AIR IN PRAYER does want the effort; but is this all He wants? Do we not often put a great deal of energy and effort into merely "beating the air"? And as for the aridity, patience is nece.ssary, but patience is not a satisfac-tory solution to the problem if the' aridity comes simply from the fact that the form of prayer one has been using has accomplished its purpose and has nowbecome sterile. It is too hard to keep patient in such circumstances, too hard to keep exerting effort, and it happeng too often that souls give up all earnest me~atal prayer and simply "last out" the time 6f prayer in an uninterested and inacti;ce manner. It seems that some are ignorant of the need of progress in prayer because they do not know that even ordinary mental prayer has many forms and that it admits of progress from one form to the other. Those who do not know of these forms think that any mention of progress in prayer in~dicates a tendency toward "mysticism" and is therefore to be suspected. To these people, "relish" in prayer means merely sentimentality, feeling, or emotion; "effort" is the 0nly thing that counts. They mistrust anything that appears to go beyond the low foothills of out-and-out reasoned prayeL They consider that any prayer which does not result in a definite and concrete resolution with regard to some particular virtue or. vice is a fruitless prayer. Yet it is a princip!e of spiritual theology that progress in prayer should move away from sheer reasoning in the direction of simplicity. A second cause of failure to make progressin prayer is unwilling-ness to make the sacrifices necessary to persevere in recollection. Some use their work for the salvation and perfection of their neighbor as ari e~cu~e for riot wogking for their own perfection. This is~ absurd, because the tirst'purpose of any religious institute is the perfection of its own members. Utter absorption in working for others is accom-panied by a dissipation of mind and' energy that makes prayer unnec-essarily burdensome. It takes the interest from interior living which is our greatest need at the present time. Everyone who has tried to preserve recollection ifi the midst of intense external activity knows,, that it is diffictilt; but the difficulty is hardly an honest justification for neglect. Increasing self-abnegation is an indispensabl.e condition for progre.ss in prayer. Putting aside all rationalizing, most religious who do not try to make progress in prayer would have td admit that the real reason is that they are afraid of the self-abnegation involved. 269 Reviews. THE EXEMPTION OF: RELIGIOUS IN CHURCH LAW. By the Reverend Joseph D. O'Brien, S.J., S.T.D., J.C.D. Pp. xvil -t- 307. The Bruce Publ[shlncj Company, Milwaukee, 1943. $3.7S. Law, e~cleslastical as well as civil, is a living, thrivin~ organism, operating over an extensi,ce fi~ld of human~activity. While deriving its very vitality from" roots descending into God's own law, it must, in its daily operation, be adaptable to the oft-changing situations found among men. The flexibility of the ecclesiastical law's a1~li-cation "is made manifest by the frequent decisions, instructions and interpre~tations issued by the Holy .See, ever ready to meet, when possible, any new .situation that may affect the welfare of any class of her children. The periodic publication of these new prescription~ of the l'aw calls for a'corresponding revision of the Commentaries on the Code of Canon ~Law so that these new aspects of the law may receive appropriate consideration. One of the latest of such commen-taries is The Exemption or:. Religious in Church Law, the publica-tion of which marks the firs~ complete treatise on this subject writ-ten in English. ' Four grand divisions, further divi~ied and subdivided, form the complex pattern of Father O'B~ien's scholarly volume." Part I clears the ground° for an intelligent understanding of many of the questions'to be discussed in subsequent por.tions of the work by presenting the genuine meaning of many terms used without canoh-ical discrimination. Such words as "nun" and "order" are explained according to Canon 488. Popular usage often.tends to dull the fine canonical precision of such expressions. Our attention is next focussed on the juridical nature of exemption. The law of exemp-tion 6r immunity from the jurisdiction of the local Ordinary is expressed in Canon 61~: "Regulars, both men and women, in-cluding novices, except those nuns who are not subject to Regular superiors,, are exempt, together with their houses and churches, from the jurisdiction of the local Ordinary, except, in the cases pro-vided for-by la{v." Generally speaking, all the faithful residing within the diocesan limits are subject to ~he. spiritual rule of the local Bishop. The Sovereign Pontiff, however, within whose jurisdiction lies the Universal Church and each member thereof, has 270 BOOK REVIEWS seen fit to withdraw certain religious in.~titutes from the rule of the local Bishop and reserve their government to himself. Such is the meaning of exemption. Needless to say, the Holy See exercises this government of Regulars through the medium of their own supe- "riors. ¯ : A thorough analysis of the" jurisdiction exercised, over exempt religious and a further amplification of the notion of jurisdiction occupies the second part of this volume. Part III, easily the most 'important. section, enters into a detailed study of all the forms of religious activity exercised under the rule of the religious superior and independently of the local Ordinary. These details are handled with painstaking thoroughness over a space of 203.pages. Fol- !owing the classification of persons, plac.es and things, no aspect of religious activity is neglected. Part IV, "The Limitations. of Exemption," explains the juridical norm regulating the restrictions placed on this privilege by the Code .and supplies an enumeration of the cases expressed in the general law of the Code. In these excep-tional cases, the local Ordinary exercises jurisdiction over exempt as well as non-exempt persons. Human nature being what it is, Regular exemption did not opera/re ove~ a course of centuries without its vicissitudes. The occa-sional failure of Bishops and Regular prelates to recognize and to respect the rights of one anbther has caused at. times the straining of. relations if not regrettable conflicts between them. By her wi~e leg-islation, the Church has supplied an adequate preventive for many misunderstandings. A sound knowledge and a faithful ~ observance of the law of the Church will provide a solution to any problem that may arise among her children and will result in that apostolic harmony between Diocesan and Religious clergy that brought praise from the Fathers of the Third Plenary Council in Baltimore. For his very objective analysis~ of this point, Fr. O'Brien me.rits our commendation. ¯ The Exemption of Religious in Church Law is primarily a sci-entific commentary on 615 and related canons. The abundant cross-references presume a degree of familiarity with the structure and gbneral content of the Code of.Canon Law. It is to be kept in mind, however, that the Code is an integrated and highly system-atized body of laws, many of which are intimately .correlated No part or section of it may be studied properly without frequent 271 BOOK REVIEW~ ¯ references to other canons or sections of the Code. The complexity " of the question of exemption explains the frequent 'repetition by the author of fundamental notions--a repetition which serves to main-tain precision of tho.ught throughout the'entire volume. This study of the exerhption of Regulars is the fruit of long and patient investigation, as the ample bibliography and the countless citations testify. Roman documents, the great classics of Canon Law, and many modern commentarie~ bear eloquent witness to the author's scho!arship~ Pre-Code legislation on the subject of exemp-. tion is examined in order to point out the changes warranted by the varying circumstances over the course of .years. Differing opinions are carefully sifted and followed by a statement of the validity and 'practicability o~ the conclfisions reached. The foregoing sketchy estimate of Fr. O'Brien's treatise should not lead one to conclude that only the trained canonist will fully appreciate his efforts. All priests engaged in the directiofi-of reli-gious will find within the volume an answer to many of the ques~ tions periodically submitted by their charges. The fact, too, that a satisfying exposition of the general law of religious precedes the explanation of many points of exem15tion should extend the field of' interest in this work. A complete general index accompamed by an index of all the canons of the Code referred to will direct us to the different subjects that engage our interest or form the basis of'a problem calling for solution. Finally,' the thoroughness of the work, evident from the'vastness of the field covered and the num-berless questions discussed, cannot be too highly praised. Among the many excellent canonical treatises published during recent years, The Exemption of Religi~ous in Church Law merits indeed a place of distinction.--J. E. RISK, S.J. ON THE PRIESTHOOD. By. Saint John Chrysostom. Translated by the Reverend Patrick Boyle, C:.M. Pp. xl -1- 14S. The Newman Book Shop, WToesot mofintesnte rC, Mat~hIo., l1i9c4s: ]k. n$o1.w2S o. f their valiant predecessors. in tho~ Faith by hearsay rather than from having made contact with great . Christian minds'across the centuries. A thrill would b~ in store for th(m were they.to take in hand a book such as this and discbver for themselves how modern, in their timelessness, ar~ the doctrines and precepts they have inherited. 272 BOOK REVIEW$ St. John Chrysostom, an his.treatise On the Priesthood,.offers his friend Basil pertinent counsel regarding his duties and privileges as priest and bishop. Special attention is given to the greatness of the priestly vocation, the essential rules for Christian eloquence, and the priest's exterior ministry. The prospective reader need have no fear of being lost in an unfamiliar world. St. John ever aimed at bringing revealed truths to the understanding of the people in general, and his undying fame as popular preacher is proof that he succeeded. Cardinal Newman, as -'quoted in the introduction to this edition, has ~he folio.wing to say . of Chrysostom: ". He writes as one who was ever looking out with sharp but kind eyes upon the world of men and their history, and hence .he always has something to produce about~ them, new or old, to the purpose of his argument, whether from books or from the experience of life. Head and heart were full to overi~owing with a stream of mingled 'wine and milk,', of rich vigorous thought and affectionate feeling. This is why his manner of writing is so rare andspecial. " " First written more than fifteen centuries ago, On The Priesthood is a welcome addition/to the series of reprints being provided by the, Newman Book Shop. It has been called the finest of all Chrysostom's ¯ writings and the first great pastoral work ever written. --C. DEMUTH, S.J. THE BOOK OF CATHOLIC AUTHORS. Second Series. Edited with preface and notes by Walter Romicj. Pp. 312. Walter Romig and Company, Detroit, 194:L $2.20. The Second Series of The Book of Catholic Authors should be warmly received, especially by young Catholic writers, for whom it sdems to be particularly designed. Readers will be treated to a per-sonal interview, an inspirational chat with voyagers .in the field of Catholic letters who have arrived. Marshalled through its pages are many names that were regret-fully missed in the first group, personalities such as Bishop Francis C. Kelly, Rev. Owen Francis Dudley, Halliday Sutherland, Rev. Fran'cis LeBuffe, S.J., and John Moody. Priests, nuns, men and women of the world pass in disarming review and tell of their endeavors in becoming novelists, dramatists, historians, poets, essayists, l~ycholo-gists, spiritual writers. As informally and candidly as if it were a 273 BOOK REVIEWS conversation over the back fence while resting from the hoe'work on the Victory garden, they relate how they got thi~t way, their literary background and ~early struggles, the romance of the. best stiller that nobody wanted; punctuating their "do's"°and '~don'ts" with a flick of an imaginar.y .blade of grass, they offer practical advice to a~plring° authors. They plead the cause of Catholic v~riters. They are gen-erous with encouragement: "I becam~ a write~ because I am a'Cath-olic. There's something to write about when you're a Catholic." The sketches are pleasantly brief, but at the~ same time they are concentrated capsules of writer's vitamin, of antidote for the severest . . case of beginner's digcouragement.---~. F. ABBICK, S.J. TALES FROM THE RECTORY. By' the Most Reverend Francis clement Kelley. Pp. 193. The Bruce Pubilshing Company, Milwaukee, 1943. $2.2S. Every day all: over th~ world very ordinary PeoPle are passing.in and out of rectories, where from their pastor they receive added "stre.ngth tobear their burdens, kindly advice to solve their problems, and.sinceie sympathy in their sorrows. The pastors, too, have their own triumphs and failures. Bishop Kelley, author of many popu-lar books, has condensed many year~ of such pastoral experienc.e in this a.nthology of twenty.-four of his short stories. It is not s~rprising, therefore, that these stories are packed with interest for the reader. Like the p~rables of Christ, each has within it some gem of truth which may serve as a guide in everyday prob-. lems. As in the parables, that gem of truth is enhanced and b~ight-ened by the fact that it is set in a story whose characters are very real persons with very human emotions and reactions. In an atmosphere haunted with the grim realities of war, Tales from thd Rector~ is both a sedative for erratic emotions and a guide for bewildered minds. --J. W. NAUGHTON, ~.J. HOW TO THINK. By Arthur D. Fearon. Pp. 194. College Publishing "Company, San Francisco, 1943. (Price not listed.) The subtitle of this book is Hotu to Anal~cze, Associate, Memo-ri2e, Reason; but perhaps a more apt and appealing subtitle is indi-cated ixi the Preface, "Shortcuts toefficient studying." Every teacher will heartily concur wi~h Dr. Fearon in his ex-pressed wish that these hints will reach every thinking person over 274 BOOK REVIEWS I d. The remarks on Analysis ~speciallY show a real grasp of the problems confronting a prospective student. Yet is it not to be feared that the reading of such a concise¯ meth-odolgy wil! be meaningful only to one who has discovered by ex-pe~ rience the value of analysis in his. study? Only such a one will be struck with the high efficiency of the hints which are suggested. Expertus potest credere. ¯ In the hands of an enthusiastic teacher (and an apostle of clear thinking), this book could be used to give a real orientation to a class. A history teacher, a retreat master, a catechist, using the sub-ject- matter that is within his grasp, could provide his class with a wholly new illumination by presenting his ideas within the frame-work of this little manual. No educator Will be the worse for inves-tigating IDa. Fearon's contribution to the problems of youth. ¯ - --R. G. NORTH, S.J. THE LOVE OF GOD. By Dom Aelred Graham, O.S.B. Pp. xlx ~ 252. Longmans, Green and'C;o., New York, 1940., $2.50. This worthwhile book has been available for some time, but on the chance that some priests and" religious have not as yet made its acquaintance, attention is gladly called to it in tbe~e pages. While the love of God for man and man's obligation to love God in return are standard themes for spiritual writers, the fundamental philosophical and theologichl principles on which a solid devotional life must be based are usually to be found only in technical works. Dora Aelred has done a significant service, by gathering these 'pri.nciples from the works of St. Thomas, St.' Augustine, St. John of the Cross and other masters, fitting them together compactly, expand-ing them with clarity and objectivity, and in general making them understandable and highly inspirational to the intelligent, serious reader. To use the author's own phrase, his book is an "essay in analysis," explaining doctrine With a view to making it effective for spiritual living. The Nature, Conditions, Expression, and Effects of the Love of God are the headings of the four large sectiohs into which the book is divided. Each section is in turn distributed through three chapters in a manner admirably suited to provide a well-balanced treatment of thesubject under discussion. 275 BOOK REVIEWS Not the least attractivefeature of the book is the authbr's facility of expression. Without apparent effort, the words and phrases seem, on reflection, to afford the best possible settings for the thought-gems brdught to light. Not often is the medi~um of words so unobtrusively effective. The pages are regularly lighted up with passages that reveal the author as a vigorous, independent thinker even when he avows, his utter dependence on the great Christian masters. Such a passage, in the chapter on Knowledge, is his discussion of Y ideals in educati'on and his 'penetrating evaluation of current .methods. Again, in the chapter on Prayer, the inevitable interrelation of social worship and the personal element in religion is presented in a way to give consid-erable pause to the tunnel-visioned extremist. As a final instance, the .chapter on Action has a section wherein art, morality, and the virtue of prudence are brought together with happy results. The passage is ¯ recommended especially to those who are recurrently in a pother over the e.ssence of Catholic Arts and Letters.--C. DEI~IUTH, S.,J. HYMNS OF: THE DOMINIGAN MISSAL AND BREVIARY. Edited with . ir~÷roducfion and no÷es by ÷he Reverend Aquinas Byrnes, O.P. Pp. 694. B. Herder Book (2o., S÷. Louis, 1943. $4.75. This work is a useful companion volume to Britt's well known handbook. Destined primarily for Dominican friars, nuns, and ter-tiaries, it is also valuable for other religious who participate in the Opus Dei. Many hymnspresented here are common to the Domini- .can and ordinary Roman breviaries. In addition, students of .hym-r~ ody will be grateful to have at hand a number of fine compositions not contained in the Roman breviary, as well as the or.iginal forms of hymns that were revised under Urban VIII. On opposite pages are printed Latin texts and English verse trans-lations. The lower half of each page is reserved for literal prose ren-derings and pertinent comments on the content, form, author, and liturgical use of the hymn under consideration. Two appendices contain helpful data on authors and translators. A third of the poetic versions are by Father Byrnes and show unusual taste and competency in this dif/icult art, the remainder being by Msgr._ Henry, Neale, Caswall and other standard translators.--C. 2. McNASpY, S.,I. 276 Decisions he- See May 4, 1943: A general assembly of the Sacred Congregation of Rites attended by Pope Pius XII voted on the miracles attributed to~ the intercession of Blessed Frances Xavier Cabrini--v.a necessary pre-requisite in the advancement of her cause of canonization. At the same meeting the Congregation also decreed that it is. safe to proceed with the beatification of Venerable Alix Le Clerc, foun-dress of the Augustinian Regular Canonesses of the Congregation of Our Lady. April, 1943: In connection with the starting of the Vatican radio's new weekly broadcast to Russia, His Holiness Pope Plus XII granted indulgences for a new prayer recommended not only on behalf of all Christians outside the unity of the Church; but especially on beh.a!f of the Russian dissidents. The prayer reads, as follows: "O Most Holy Trinity, we adord Thee, and through Mary offer our petition: grant to all unity in the faith and courage to profess it faithfully." Indulgences: 300 days each time, a plenary indulgence once a month under the usual conditions. February 27, 1943: Pius .XII, through the Sacred Penitentiary, made the following modifications in the conditions for gaining the indulgences attached to the wearing of the Brown Scapular of Our Lady of Mount Carmel: 1) All religious of the Carmelite Order (priests, brothers, nuns, and tertiaries regular) may gain the indulgences attached to the wearing of the Carmelite habit, even though the habit is not made of wool. 2) All the faithful who belong to the Carmelite Third Order Secular, arid to th~ Confraternity of the Blessed Virgin Mary of. Mount Carmel, may gain the indulgences attached to the wearing of the scapular, even though they wear a ~capula.r not made of wool. These concessions were made at the request of the Procurator General of the Carmelite Order A.O., and they are made for tile dura-tion of the war onl~l. The Holy See also granted a sanatt'o for any invalidating defects in the erection of a Third Order and of a Confratern.ity of the' Blessed Virgin Mary of Mount Carmel, as well-as in the admission of the faithful to these organizations. 277 ( UeS ons and Answers .~.26--. On the occoslon of his Golden Jubilee a religious is made th~ recipi-ent of a sum of money 'contributed by" his friends and former pupils. Should this money be considered as the personal property of the religious, or does it belong to the communih/? Canon 580, § 2 states that "whatever a ~eligious acquires by his " own industry or in respect to his institute, belongs to the institute." One may acquire in respect to his institute in two ways: (1) The donor wishes to make a gift to the institute or to the community, and does so through the individual religidus; (2) he gives it to the reli-gious, because he is a religious. In this latter case the donor knows the religious only.as a religious; he would not know him if he were not a religiotis. Thus gifts given to religious teachers.by their pupils, or by patients to religious who nurse them, are considered ~iven to the religious because they are religious.- In case of doubt, whether.[he ' gift is given to-the person or to the religious, the doubt is to be solved in favor of the community, by an analogy to canon 1536. From the foregoing it would seem that gifts received by a reli~ gious on the .occasion of his Golden ,Jubilee are given to him because he is a religious, hence their go to his community. In practice it i~ best to follow this interpretation because if the gift is considered as purely personal, the religious must add it to his pdtri-mony; and may not spend it or give it away (canon 583, 1°); whereas if the gift is considered as given to him because he is a reli- 'gious, it goes to the comm'unity but the superior may allow him to use part of it for a jubilee trip to some of the houses, or for some similar purpose. Of course, the'superior should be prepared to grant the same permission to all other jubilarians, whether they receive gifts, or not, so as to avoid any violation of common life. --27-- In case of a f~mily inheritance, may a religious renounce his or her~ share in favor of brothers and sisters? Similarly, is a religious free ÷o turn over to others of the family his share of a pension right due a parent? The answer to these questions will depend to a certain extent upon the civil law of the State in which the will of the deceased per- 278 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS son is executed. If the state law obliges a pare

Issue 48.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1989. ; R~:.vn~w voa R~:.t.~c,~ous (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office: 3601 Lindcll Blvd. Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 per year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add U.S. $5.00 per year; for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: Rl~v~'0,, ~:o~ Rl-:t.~c;ous; P.O. Box 6070: Duluth, MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to Rt:v~t:w roa RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors September/October 1989 Volume 48 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rv:vt~w you R~:~.~;~otJs; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from Rv:\'~v:w voa Rr:~.~;~o~JS; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY I0010. PRISMS . We Christians come to know our calling to a certain kind of minis-try in the Church through our fidelity to prayer--a continuing dialogue in our relationship with God. By way of analogy, those in the vocation of married life know that the sacramental celebration of matrimony rep-resents only the start of a new relationship together with God. It will take a married lifetime of dialogue with each other and with God and of so living to make the reality of the sacrament come true. Similarly, those in the vocation of religious life signify in some way (commonly through some kind of vow-taking) that they are professing and aiming at a spe-cial relationship with God with the wholeness of their lives. Again re-ligious are well aware that vow or profession day is only the beginning of the dialoguing and of the living out of this "aimed-at" relationship. In these vocations of married and religious life, the Christian prayer of both the individual and the community (marital or religious) is a neces-sary part of the continuing dialogue which keeps alive and nourishes the particular vocation undertaken by our first responding to God's initia-tive. The call to minister in the name of Christ and officially authorized in the service of the Church also remains grounded in the prayer-dialogue. Ministry, not rooted in prayer, is no ministry at all. Good deeds done may represent admirable humanitarianism which we honor and appreciate, but we do not grace it with the identity of ministry. Min-istry flows from a consciousness of God and God's ways of acting and from a sense of responsibility in acting in the name of Christ's Body, the Church. The pervading consciousness of God and the connatural way of acting as God acts are the fruit of a prayer life, which is consistently fostered "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health." This dialogue pei'meates and empowers our Christian life as well as our ministry whatever it may be. In this issue, we highlight two aspects of this continuing dialogue so necessary for our vocation and for ourmin!stry. The passion or fire in our Christian way of praying is reflected in the articles "The God of the Scriptures: An Invitation to Passionate Prayer" .by Anthony Wieczorek, O. Praem., "Romantic Relations with the Sacred" by Richard J. De- Maria, C.F.C., and "A Joyful Supp!ication for Justice" by A. Paul 641 642 Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Dominic, S.J. The passion--meaning self-emptying and often a sense of dying--is also a part of our Christian experience of growth in prayer; the articles "Negative Floating" by Barbara Dent and "Spiritual Dryness: Some Practical Guidelines" by Eamon Tobin give some insight into these always difficult moments. Three articles, viewing various aspects of our religious life vocation, are written within the specific prayer context of our lives. "Religious Formation: A Contemplative Realignment" by Jane Ferdon, O.P., con-siders the formation task. "Discernment and Elections in Religious In-stitutes" by Marcello De Carvalho Azevedo, S.J., focuses the very spe-cial moments of leadership choice and policy-making in religious in-stitutes. Finally, "Rituals of Death, Denial, and Refounding" by Ger-ald A. Arbuckle, S.M., reflects on the importance of religious celebrat-ing in a truly Christian manner the dying and death moments in their con-gregational life if revitalization or refounding is to occur today. In the northern hemisphere, the summer months are coming, to an end, with the traditional vacation time behind us for another year. We move on to another "work" year and whatever our ministry may be. With the help of God's grace, .we find ourselves at an opportune time to assess again how our lives, our ministries, and our prayer truly form one healthy and supportive ecological system. May our various authors in this issue contribute to our insight and give us perspective in our quest. David L. Fleming, S.J. The God of the Scriptures: An Invitation to Passionate Prayer Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem. Father Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem., is currently chaplain of the Sign of God Deaf Ministry office which serves the Deaf and Hearing Impaired community of the Green Bay diocese. He also directs the Theological Institute, a summer program at St. Norbert College in De Pere, Wisconsin. He continues to write a weekly article for the local diocesan newspaper. His address is St. Norbert Abbey; De Pere, Wiscon-sin 54115-2697. We all have them. Most of us have learned to control, even ignore them. But for some, they appear unasked for and when they do they are toler-ated with all the patience we have for a head cold. They are our emo-tions, our deep seated emotions, the dark and passionate side of our hu-man nature. We enjoy them when, at sports activities, we give ourselves permis-sion to act outraged or triumphant and they suit our moods. We like it when they sneak out quietly in the form of tears at the end of a touching movie. They may also try to make their presence known during prayer, but here they are often considered most distracting and least desired. And yet, if there is a time for emotion, if there is a time for passion at all, it is during prayer. Prayer is a naturally revealing activity. Ii is natural that passionate emotions should arise within us during.prayer. They are conduits to the parts of ourselves God wishes most to go. It is little wonder we should find them straining to emerge. Could it be that they are even called forth by a God eager to touch this part of ourselves so seldom shared? Unfortunately, they are the parts of ourselves we least of all like. Most often, they are corridors to the side of ourgelves we fear. They lead 643 60,4 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 into the cauldron of emotion we have not yet learned to control. We may not be really sure what lurks there but we are fairly confident that God has no part of it, that it is best shielded from God,-that what surges there is best atoned for in secret, not something to be proud of and shared openly with God. But are passionate emotions like anger and jealousy and lust called forth during times of prayer so that we can "confess" to them? Or are they summoned at God's own invitation? Can it be, might it be, that God can desire a passionate prayer as well and as much as a prayer that is con-templative, tranquil, and serene? Might it be that the God who appears ¯ throughout the pages of the Bible speaks to us best and can identify with us most through the part of ourselves we keep most hidden? The God of the Scriptures is indeed a passionate God. This article is an exploration of that theme and of the constructive relationship that exists between passion and prayer. The Passionate Nature of God Pascal was right when he said that there seemed to be two Gods: the God discussed by philosophers and the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of the Scriptures. Most people prefer the philosophers' God. That Being is reasonable, controlled, logical. The God of the phi-losophers thinks, plans, orders, foresees. There is, of course, a "feel-ing" side to this God too. God does, after all, feel compassion and love for creation. But those "feelings" are held well in check and are dis-pensed cooly and properly. This God seems to resemble a fine Victorian gentleman/scholar. And, very often, especially here in the Western world, that is the image we would like to have of ourselves. That is the standard and goal we set for ourselves. The point is not that this image of God is false. But is it all there is? Is it only one side of a much more complex personality? Do we, with a too exclusively philosophical model of God, lose some of God's mys-tery because we fail to pay proper attention to God's emotion and pas-sionate nature? Perhaps such a theology is no more complete than an anthropology that deliberately ignores the emotional and passionate side of human be-ing? The point of human growth is to integrate and harmonize the parts of our nature i'nto one. To ignore our emotions is to ignore half of our selves. In addition to being rational, thinking creatures, human beings also love, feel anger, jealousy, crave revenge, desire, and feel pity. We are indeed complex beings. Can we dare imagine a God who is any less? Moreover, if we are so thoroughly emotional and if we were made in The God of the Scriptures / 6t15 God's own image and likeness, what can we conclude about God? Scripture tells us that "God is love." Love is, to be sure, more than an intellectual attitude or disposition toward life. Love is an emotion. Peo-ple in love are known sometimes to do strange things, spontaneous things, unpredictable things. Or so they seem to us. But to them, fol-lowing the "logic of love," their actions have a rationality, a purpose, an order. Finding it, though, and seeing the reasoning behind such ac-tions can be almost as hard as finding the sense and reason behind some of God's actions in our lives. God is not illogical nor is God emotion-ally unstable. God is simply love. God is simply in love with us "and with ¯ all of creation. God is a Being of great and passionate emotion. That, at least, is what the Scriptures tell us. Perhaps, to beg the question a bit, that is why God chose the Jews in the first place as recorders of divine revelation. The Jews, and all Near Eastern people for that matter, were extremely emotional and passionate people. Check the papers--they still are. But if you were God, would you have chosen them to write the record of your revelation? Many people would probably have preferred the Greeks. Their philo-sophical bent would more likely have appealed to us. And indeed, they would probably have done an admirable job at revealing God's mind. But could they have matched the Jewish brilliance for revealing God's heart? The Jewish passion for life was a most fitting medium for the man-ner of God's message. For the Scriptures reveal in emotional and pas-sionate imagery and terms the heart as well as the mind of God. Maybe, we argue, the Jewish people were simply transferring their own emotional nature onto God and that God no more has passionate feel-ings than God has legs withwhich to walk around in the garden of Eden. Yet, even though they were not meant to be read literally, all the images and words do reveal and communicate something about God. To glean this, though, the Scriptures must be read with an open mind and heart. God's Emotional Involvement in Life What do the Scriptures tell us about God? The Bible reveals a God who is very much alive and near. The biblical God does not observe the glories and follies of creation from afar. This is not a God who aloofly administri~tes creation and human history. Rather, this is a God who min-isters, to it and within it. The God of the Bible is pastorally involved in human life. We know that because the Scriptures reveal a God who is emotionally involved in human life. There are levels and degrees of involvement in community, in fam-ily, in politics, in everything regarding life. One criterion for measuring 646 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 or determining the depth of involvement is the amount of emotional in-vestment shown. In community living, for example, it is easy enough to state one's involvement in community affairs. One may even show up at community meetings and functions. But does that person's words and presence communicate an active involvement or a benign disinterest? Does body language alone, for instance, tell the others present that, "I am here to observe. Really, I couldn't care less what happens. It is some-what interesting, even humorous though. Just continue and pretend I'm not here." No words may communicate that. But the message is made, communicated through posture, through sleepy eyes and flacid facial e~- pression. On the other hand is the person very much involved in the pro-ceedings. Like the other, thi~ person says not a word. Yet through all the same means the message communicated is much different. This per-son exhibits interest through a tense body, through a face that while si-lent is red with anger or aglow with satisfaction. The eyes hold an inter-est, the palms sweat, a leg fidgets nervously. This person is truly and pastorally present and alive. Why? Because the person is visibly emo-tionally involved. And that is what we want from each other and from God. Similarly, why do we become upset with the "professional" pastor who runs the office well and administrates the parish efficiently but who cannot feel his people's pain, who cannot rejoice at someone's birth or mourn at another's death? Why do we feel cheated? Why does the per-son seem pastorally out of touch and somehow less a priest than the pas-tor who is able and willing to be emotionally present to the people? Why does the emotionally uninvested pastor seem to communicate less God's presence? Why do we feel disappointed? For what reason do we feel we should be able to expect and receive more? All of this speaks to an image or a set of expectations we have about God. Because God cares, God's ministers should also care. Because God is able to and does feel with the people, so should God's priests and pas-toral workers. We want and need to feel God present in our lives and feel cheated by those who serve in God's name if somehow we cannot sense from them a deeper presence of God than the merely physical. We want and feel a right to expect an emotional presence and involvement. We want our pastoral workers to be passionately present and active. We want and expect that because we feel God is passionately present and ac-tive. But why? Does that expectation and feeling originate within us alone? Or is that the image Of God that is mysteriously and boldly com- The God of the Scriptures /647 municated through almost every page of the Bible? Indeed, God is most emotionally present and involved in the lives of the Jewish people. That is true from exodus to exile, from restoration through resurrection. God communicates through the Scriptures a presence and involvement that is intensely passionate. The Passionate God of the Prophets Nowhere is this more evident than in the writings of the prophets. Within the prophetic books we see a picture of a God at wits' end. The people had rebelled from God's love and were running headlong toward destruction. We hear a response from God that is the emotional equal of what is politically, socially, and spiritually at stake. Read with the emotion befitting the texts Amos 8:4-8 or 4:!-3 or Hosea'l !:1-11 or Jeremiah 7:i-20 or Isaiah 54:78 or any of the other prophets, and you find the words of a person on the edge, the words of a person who is not at all detached or even mildly interested. In those words and so many others we receive a message of a God filled with pas-sion for the welfare of his people, a God who is truly emotionally in-volved in the life, past and future, of his people. If there is anger in God's words, it is the anger of a parent or lover, the passion of someone who cares tremendously about another. It is an anger born of frustration and love. Who has been in love without feel-ing anger? Love is a powerful emotion that opens us up to other equally powerful feelings. And what of the energy invested in both love and an-ger? Passion has a high price in emotional energy that is paid only by those truly sincere about what they feel. The quality and quantity of God's emotion so naked and strong throughout the prophets is testimony to the sincerity of God's passionate love. Moreover, it is a passion and sincerity that God expects in return. Love that is deep and intense expects a return in kind. One of our ways of showing love is through our prayer, both private and liturgical. Note, then, in Isaiah I:11-16 and Amos 5:21-25 and Jeremiah 7:21-28, the re-action of God to worship that is liturgically correct but void of sincerity and feeling. God expects a worship from the heart, a worship that is a reflection of our love. To be proper and true to the rubrics is not enough, not even the most important thing. What God seeks is what God gives, a prayer that is emotionally sincere. What God "hates" and "detests," what is "loathsome" to God is prayer empty of affect. That does not mean that worship must be a wild and ecstatic affair. However, it must be sincere; it must reveal an authentic human warmth. Worship, prayer, is more than so many words or lack of them. We can 648 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 meditate quite correctly and all without opening our hearts in love. A prayer that is emotionally fl~t.and cold is the sacrifice displeasing to God. Perhaps that is why Paul tells.us that because "we-do, not know how to pray as we ought, the Spirit makes intercession f~or us with groanings that cannot be-expressed in speech" (Rm 8:26). That is an invitation to pray our feelings, to pray from and with our emotions. That is what God asks for and longs to share, for it is that which is most truly in our hearts. The Spirit helps us to raise what we are feeling in prayer, even if it can be expressed in no other way than by a groan. Since we are to live as we pray, God expects from us a life that is emotionally honest and open. How often we repress our feelings and hold in check our passion. We refuse to allow ourselves to feel and that pre-vents us from being as effective and compassionate as Jesus was and calls us to be. The "cry of the poor" is too painful to hear so we learn to close to the poor not only our ears but also our hearts. We dull our abil-ity and willingness to feel and so lose a major motivating force behind Christian action. Pity is not the issue here, rather compassion and jus-tice. Perhaps it was because Jesus was a man of such strong emotions that he was as compassionate and sensitive as the Scriptures say. Yet not only did Jesus have strong feelings, he was willing to live with them and feel them. Because he did not repress what he felt but lived what he felt he could be moved enough to touch and heal the leper (Mk 1:41) and raise the widow's son (Lk 7:11-17). If Jesus was the troublemaker and law-breaker the Pharisees claimed, it was because he allowed his emotions to so move his charity and inspire his faith that he saw not simply the law but the people the law did not and could not serve. God's Call for a Passionate Faith Jesus' emotion is most manifest in his faith. Many people were raised to believe that faith is something we do with our minds, that faith is an intellectual act of agreement or obedience to a tradition or set of beliefs. While it may be that, it is not only that. This is clear from the way Jesus lived and how he believed. For Jesus, faith was an emotion that gripped not only his mind, but his heart and body as well. Oftentimes one emotion is held in check by another. A boy, for in-stance, may want to introduce himself to a girl. The "love" he feels for her is held in check, though, by his "fear" of being rejected. He de-cides to say nothing. Fear has overruled his young love. Similarly, a per-son may feel inclined to speak out on a justice issue. That person too feels fear. But this time the person's convictions on the matter, the per- The God of the Scriptures / 649 son's belief, is the stronger of the two and bids the person to speak out. Here faith overruled fear. All of us know what fear is, all of us have felt it. Reflect for a mo-ment what happens when you feel fear. The mind freezes, it becomes difficult or even impossible to think. The entire body is also affected. Knees shake, palms sweat, the mouth runs dry. If the fear is sharp enough we may even close our eyes and prefer to block out the cause of our fear. Fear, to be sure, is a powerful emotion. It would require, then, an equally powerful emotion to counter it. Only two emotions give us the courage to overcome fear: love and faith--although the two are intimately related. A mother stands terrified at the sight of her burning home when she hears the cry of her child from within. Her fear of the flames and smoke cause her to stand for a mo-ment paralyzed until love for her child overpowers the fear and forces her in to rescue him. Jeremiah the prophet stands equally terrified be-fore the people gathered at the Temple. He too, however, hears--or rather feels--an inner voice, the call of God bidding him to speak in God's name. For a moment his fear prevails before the faith within his heart overwhelms it and causes him to cry out. . How many of us have had our faith compromised by fear? By clos-ing ourselves to our feelings, by repressing our emotions, we have been eliminating a source of strength that could well empower our faith to ri-val that of tl~e prophets. If our faith is solely intellectual it is but half, at best, of what it could be. Faith is authentic when it flows from our hearts, when it flows from our love for God. Jeremiah, for example, and Jesus after him, may have seemed like people without faith because they spoke against the traditions and cus-toms of the people. They could rightly be asked, "Have you no faith, Jeremiah, in the Temple and the promise God made to dwell in it always? Why is it so hard for you to have faith in what our traditions teach.? Why can't you agree with them?" Faith in this sense is an act of the intellect. But for Jeremiah, for the other prophets, and for Jesus, faith was an act of love; its motive force was an intuition of God's abiding presence within. They felt God's love and returned it as they could (that is, they believed) and it was that faith in God's love that enabled them to stand up and say what their hearts could not deny. The love they felt empowered them, gave their faith the spirit of cour-age. All of us are given the gift of that love. All of us have within our-selves the courage to truly use our faith. But so often in closing ourselves to our emotions, in denying them, we deny ourselves the grace, the love, Review for Religious, September-October 1989 that gives us the courage to truly believe. Jesus and the prophets before him were not ashamed of their emotions. Indeed, they prayed with them (Jeremiah's lamentations, for example) by bringing them before God in-stead of hiding them in the dark recesses of their spirits. By so doing, they provide an example for all us of authentic living and prayer. Praying with our Emotions Oddly enough, it is the emotion of fear that most inhibits us from bringing our.other emotions to prayer. As mentioned earlier, prayer is a naturally revealing activity. In prayer, the love and union we share with God is revealed and made known to us. We may receive the revelation of truths and intuitions about questions and problems we may have, as well as insights into God and ourselves. It is this that often scares us into emotional and spiritual repression. In the quiet, centering communion of prayer with God, we forget to maintain many of the blocks and barriers we place between our conscious selves and our more disquieting emotions. Suddenly and quite unexpect-edly we can find the composure of our prayer compromised by unwel-comed feelings. The person whose thoughts continue to center upon feel-ings of passion for a lover, the religious whose heart is suddenly filled with anger and resentment toward a superior, the person who becomes aware of his or her jealousy and envy--all of these people find the re-warding calm of prayer ruined by the onslaught of emotions. In each of these cases, whether or not prayer has been ruined de-pends upon whose agenda is being followed. Prayer is a dialogue. How-ever, especially with meditation, prayer can become a monologue of si-lence. Our meditation can be but another way of saying, "Listen God, there are just some things I'd sooner not think about. Why don't we just sit here quietly and ignore them together." Our prayer agenda calls for some peace and quiet, a bit of reprieve, a break in the action of confron-tation. Yet we find ourselves continually pestered by thoughts and feel-ings we've decided not to share. Might it be, however, that their contin-ual interruption is an effort on God's part to make it part of our prayer? Might God have an agenda too? And might that agenda include the very feelings we are so desperate to ignore? It might do well, then, since prayer is a dialogue, to "ask" God about what should be shared. One way of doing so is by beginning our prayer with a bit of soul searching journaling. We might record what and how we are feeling, any significant encounters we have had with peo-ple, good and bad. The point is not to dwell on any of them. Rather we acknowledge what is already inside of us. We acknowledge it to God and The God of the Scriptures / 651 to ourselves. Then, having done that, we set it aside and open ourselves to God. Yet, the very action of having been honest with ourselves about what we arefeeling has already opened the doors to our deepest selves to God. We have laid everything bare and have effectively told God, "Well, now that you know, what do you say?" Then if our prayer is quiet, perhaps God is saying, "Let it rest for now," and so we should. If, however, we find the emotions returning, perhaps we should pay them some prayerful attention. It is one matter to continually harp on a feeling and another tO at-tend to one that finds its way to the surface. Yet it is here that fear can overcome all else and totally inhibit our communion with God, not to mention any communion with ourselves. We are afraid of what may come if we allow our emotions to flow. We are afraid of what God may think if we stood before God with emotions bare. Perhaps most of all, we are afraid of what we would have to admit about ourselves if we al-lowed our spiritual vision to focus upon our feelings. Especially in times of stress, when we need prayer most, we are most reluctant, most afraid to pray because the emotions we so fear are so close to surface, so hard to dispel. In such cases the fear and shame we so strongly feel should be the opening movement of our prayer. But here is the test. Have we the faith to share what we fear? Here we become the shy person struggling to talk to a friend. Here we become the mother rooted in fear or stirred by love into action. Here we find the revelation, not of God but of ourselves, that prayer so powerfully conveys. Here we find a truth about ourselves. Prayer is a dialogue. Has God been speaking, shouting through hands pressed tight against our ears, trying to get through? Summary We can repress our prayer and weaken our faith because we are un-willing to face the passion of our own emotions. Why? Is it God's rejec-tion or wrath that we fear or is it facing the truth about ourselves? Some people are simply ashamed that they are emotional people at all. Some-where many of us have learned that we should be rational at the expense of being emotional. Emotions are something to master, signs of weak-ness, occasions for sin. To be holy is to be emotionally controlled. Pei-haps. To be sure, some emotions need to be held in check. Some need to be confessed. But not all. Our emotions are occasions for grace, provided we let our God work through them. They can be conduits leading to deeper prayer. They can be the means for facing and overcoming our fear of living. For indeed, 652 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 without emotions we are less than human. We were made in the image and likeness of a living, feeling God who is revealed in the pages of Scrip-ture as a truly passionate lover, a God who, for example, is quite honest about being "jealous." We were made to have feelings and to use our emotions to feel and act alive. If Jesus was not ashamed of the force of his emotions, why should we? As Christians we are called to become fully alive. That means learn-ing to live with and harness our emotions. Truly, our emotions are gifts from God, gifts to be enjoyed, gifts for which we can be grateful. But before any of that can happen, our emotions must first be accepted. The Dancer Is falling in love with you autumn leaves swirling in the wind, fish swimming in the flooded ,,;hallows after a heavy rainfall? Is this love a meditative symphony, where the listener is impelled to pause, be attentive to the secret voice talking with his heart? Is this love a walk without fear into the forest of Solitude, where I go to plant my tree of hope? Is this love an ancient la Jota, sometimes graceful and slow, at other moments fast and exciting? How do I overcome my reluctance? Become like David, who danced before the Lord because it was pleasing to him? Brother Richard Heatley, F.S.C. De La Salle Centre 45 Oaklands Avenue Toronoto, Ontario M4V 2E4, Canada Romantic Relations with the Sacred Richard J. DeMaria, C.F.C. Brother Richard DeMaria, C.F.C., currently serves as Executive Vice President and the Vice President for Academic Affairs at lona College. His address is lona Col-lege; New Rochelle, New York 10801. In the recent, surprisingly successful film, Th~rOse, based on the life of St. Th6r~se of Lisieux, there is a scene that has remained with me for months. Th6r~se's sister visits her during what was to be a terminal ill-ness, and noticing that Th6r~se has pinned a small crucifix to her pil-low, observes: "So you two are back together again." To which, as I recall it, Th6r~se blushes and nods in agreement. The audience--a New York City audience--to my amazement did not laugh here or at any time during a movie which portrayed Th6r~se as a woman engaged in a ro-mantic relationship with Jesus, a relationship characterized by falling outs, jealousies, reunions, disagreements, and coquetry. And by love. And by passion. The film places Th6r~se in a very old tradition of spirituality, a tra-dition which uses the language and ways of romantic love to describe a person's interaction with the sacred. The romantic poem "The Song of Songs" comes immediately to mind: the longing of a bride for her bride-groom is used as an image of the human experience with the sacred. Ap-parently that image was found sufficiently apt among the Hebrew peo-ple for the poem to be included and preserved in its canon of sacred litera-ture. We find in other religions similar spiritualities linking sexual im-agery and prayer, the link sometimes explicitly recognized and cele-brated, at other times, we assume, camouflaged and unrecognized but fairly apparent to those who read between lines. As R. Zaehner, the Oxford authority on mysticism, observes: 653 654 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 There is no point at all blinking at the fact that the raptures of the theis-tic mystic are closely akin to the transports of sexual union, the soul play-ing the part of the female and (~od appearing as the male. ~ In the history of religion, one finds many spiritualities that approach life as if there were two lovers involved. In Hinduism, one finds among the different paths by which one can yoke himself or herself to God, the path of bhakti in which one takes on the Lord as lover. Kabir, the fif-teenth- century Indian mystic, as translated by Bly, uses the term "the Guest" to name the inner lover: My body and my mind are in depression because you are not with me. How much I love you and want you in. my house! When 1 hear people describe me as your bride I look sideways ashamed, Because I know that far inside us we have never met. Then what is this love of mine? I don't really care about food, I don't really care about sleep, I am restless indoors and outdoors. The bride wants her lover as much as a thirsty man wants water. And how will I find someone who will take a message to the Guest from me? How restless Kabir is all the time! How much he wants to see the Guest!z The existence of a relationship between mysticism and sexuality is clear and widespread in the historical record. The question is: how shall we interpret and understand the presence of romaritic and sexual lan-guage in religious writing? More to the point are the following questions: Is it possible to carry on a love relationship with an invisible, non-human lover? Does this spirituality find any basis in the way things are? Is there someone there to love? Is this use of romantic language healthy? Unless we at least advert to these questions from the outset, they stand as obstacles to our ability to approach this tradition with openness. There are many analysts who interpret experiences of romantic spiri-tuality as situations in which sexual energy, having been denied its usual outlet, finds a (distorted) outlet in the religious arena. Accordingly, mys-ticism is in reality sexual energy that is misdirected. Although this sub-limation is usually unrecognized by the person involved, its true nature can be readily recognized by the perceptive observer. In sum, people in-volved in religious romanticism are victims of misplaced energy; their lives are based upon an unreal perception of the way things are. Other analysts suggest that the situation is quite the opposite: a ba-sic drive, a basic need within humans, is for union with the transcendent. Romantic Relations with the Sacred / 655 According to this theory, the mystic is a person who is responding quite directly to this basic drive. Other humans respond to this drive by en-gaging themselves in sexual, romantic relationships with other humans. This is a valid way of fulfilling this need. The power of human, inter-personal sexuality, and the way that relationship is experienced and de-scribed, derive from the more basic desire of the human to interact with the sacred. Because the inter-human sexual experience is one form of the more general mystical experience, it should not surprise us that the lan-guage of human love and the language of mystical 10ve are quite simi-lar. Alan W. Watts, in Myth and Ritual in Christianity makes the fol-lowing observation: But a sexually self-conscious culture such as our own must beware of its natural tendency to see religion as a symbolizing of sex, for to sexu-ally uncomplicated people it has always been obvious that sex is a sym-bol of religion. That is to say, the ecstatic self-abandonment of nuptial love is the average man's nearest approach to the selfless state of mys-tical and metaphysical experience. For this reason the act of love is the easiest and most readily intelligible illustration of what it is like to be in "union with God," to live the eternal life, free from self and time.3 Perhaps it will never be possible to prove convincingly which of these two theories is true. Some look to an epistemology which concen-trates its attention not on questions about the way things are but rather on questions about what ways work. Such an approach considers a the-ory to be true, or a path to be true, when it works. Pragmatic approaches to understanding our lives can reflect a careless and shallow attitude about truth, but not necessarily so. The form of pragmatism discussed here, recognizing the complexity of the human psyche and the mystery of the sacred, and recognizing the inability of the human mind to under-stand these with any clarity, reasons that if a particular construct or the-ory works, it works because it approximates the way things are. This is an epistemology often used in the physical sciences. Consider, for ex-ample, the solar system model of the atom. No one has seen an atom. Serious scientists do not think that the atom is composed of electrons, circling a nucleus of neutrons and protons, like a solar system. Scien-tists, however, have used the construct of a solar system when thinking about the atom, because when they have followed out the implications of that model, they have been able to explain many past experiences (ex-periments). And, even more importantly, when they devised new experi-ments and applications suggested by the model, these led to important new discoveries. Science has done well, then, to think of the atom as if 656 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 it were a solar system. Even if the atom is not a solar system, the solar system picture predicts how the atom will work. And it is not unreason-able to conclude from this that in many ways the solar system model ap-proximates the reality of the atom. In sum, while recognizing that a con-struct is an imagined picture, a person follows it because she believes that it will lead her close to the way things are. Against the background of this epistemology, we can now turn our attention to those paths in which a person is involved in a relationship with a person who is not physically present but who is perceived to be real, important, and worthy of ~ittention; a relationship which according to the person herself and according to observers, gives direction and strength. Whether the other is perceived as guru, teacher, patron, guide, angel, patron saint, or--as in the particular spirituality we are discuss-ing-- as the romantically loved one, the relationship has a real effect upon the growth and behavior of the participant. In his play Big Shot, Jack Gelber portrays the positive, powerful influence which two "imagi-nary" persons--a wise, aged prophetic man, and a seductive woman-- have upon a young man's ability to make decisions about his life and to move toward maturity. (Interestingly, these two visitors never appear to-gether in the boy's thoughts; the appearance of one signals the exit of the other. At the play's end, however, they interact with one another and exit together, perhaps symbolizing something of an integration of the re-ligious and the sexual in his consciousness.) According to what was said above, one should evaluate the tradition of romantic spirituality by asking: What happens to persons when they act as if there were an inner sacred person there? Does it lead to desir-able ends? In this approach one judges a religious path worth consider-ing if it has "worked" for many people, in many religions, in many dif-ferent ages. What is meant by "worked"? The validity of this or any path is established by its ability to lead practitioners into that special con-sciousness which is called "religious." In the Christian faith, people in that consciousness are said to be in the state of sanctifying grace and ex-hibit characteristics such as love, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Ga 5:22). History attests that the path of devotion, of romantic love, is a path that has led many to that consciousness; the way works. The seeker of God who utilizes the con-struct of romantic love does not need to know for certain whether there is a real person with whom she can interact in love. She does know that when she acts as if there were such a person, wonderful things do hap-pen. In Bhakti Yoga, the author writes: Romantic Relations with the Sacred / 657 All our attitudes, moral or emotional, as well as religious are due to the objects of our consciousness: the things which we believe to exist whether really or ideally along with ourselves. Such objects may be pre-sent to our senses or they may be present to our thought; in either case they elicit from us a reaction and the reaction due to things of thought is notoriously in many cases as strong as that due to sensible presences. It may even be stronger . 4 How does one follow this path? By undertaking the same practices which a man or woman utilizes in establishing a love relationship with a human being. By conversing. By sharing feelings. By trying to please. By actions of union. By admiration. By efforts to merge into one an-other. By writing poems of love. By singing songs of love. By making sacrifices. By exchanging gifts. By establishing rituals, special places, and special times. By secrets shared. By anger expressed. And by hurts told. By arguing. By compromising. How does one advise or counsel a person on this path? As one would advise or counsel a person struggling with any experience of love. The spiritual director will help him to recognize the stages of love. The di-rector will lead her to expect periods of doubt, of loneliness, of seeming neglect, of loss of attraction--the dark nights of the soul. He must be assisted in learning the art of conversation, and especially the art of lis-tening. (For let there be no doubt about it: the person does experience conversation, responses and answers that surprise by their unexpected-ness. Where do these answers come from? Suffice it to say that when questions are asked of this inner lover, this inner guest,' one "hears" answers.) The director will need to counsel the practitioner about the im-portance of fidelity, to help recall the good times in moments of dark-ness, and to point her to better times ahead. The person engaged in this path does experience another actor in his life. Outside observers may wish to interpret this experience as the ef-fects of the "alter ego," or the "subconscious," or the "repressed self." These interpretations should not be allowed to discourage the lover, if forhim the experience of this other is real, and if the effects of carrying out a relationship of love with that "person" are beneficial and if they are leading her into grace. This path does not work for everyone. In New Wineskins,5 Sandra Schneiders observes that in earlier times it was assumed that all women entering into the religious life would find in this romantic spirituality a comfortable and effective path. Women religious, on their day of pro-fession, came to the altar dressed as brides, as the choir sang "Veni Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Sponsa Christi," in a ceremony that was designed to imitate in many ways that of a marriage. Schneiders suggests that in fact many Sisters did not find this path to be effective for them. For many, it was a kind of play.acting, which in later years---especially if they were influenced by Freudian thinking--they came to regard as a childish effort to subli-mate energies better redirected in other ways. Today, almost all traces of this bridal spirituality have been removed from the rituals and from the language of contemporary religious women. Women who have en-tered religious life in recent years may not even be aware of this spiritu-ality. By way of conclusion, two questions about this path of spirituality suggest themselves. First, in this relationship, does the soul always take the role of the feminine to the masculine God, a role in which the hu-man seeks to be filled, empowered, or taken over by the other? The male poet, Kabir, cited before, who wrote in a culture which knew of both male and female gods, always--at least in translation--describes him-self as feminine in relationship to the sacred. Listen to the following poem: I played for ten years with the girls of my own age, but now I am sud-denly in fehr. I am on the way up some stairs--they are high. Yet I have to give up my fears if I want to take part in this love. I have to let go of the protective clothes and meet him with the whole length of my body. My eyes will have to be the love candles this time. Kabir says: Men and women in love will understand this poem. If what you feel for the holy one is not desire, then what's the use of dressing with such care, and spending so much time making your eyelids dark.6 Can one approach the sacred as masculine? Or must one utilize the feminine side (the anima) in one's relationship with the sacred (assum-ing of course that every person, regardless of gender, is both animus and anima)? And if this is true, will this path of spirituality come more natu-rally to women than to men? Or, again if it is true, would the fact that a person has a gay or lesbian orientation affect the attractiveness and ef-fectiveness of this spirituality? A second questign.: what (if any) is the connection between this spousal spirituality and celibacy? Clearly, spousal spirituality does ap-peal and does work for non-celibates as well as celibates. Does celibacy enable one to pursue this path more quickly or more deeply? Does the fact that one is not pursuing the path of romantic human love dispose one Romantic Relations with the Sacred / 659 toward this path more urgently? Or, to take the quite opposite position, would familiarity and experience with human romantic love give one the lexicon and the understandings that enable one to move more quickly into this more interior love? To conclude: the spiritual path of romantic relationships with the sa-cred has been neglected in recent years, perhaps because twentieth-century psychology has called into question so many of the foundations upon which it was based. There is, however, a way of understanding our ways of knowing, consonant with contemporary science, which gives 'permission' to those so attracted to follow this path, to see whether it leads them into grace. While the path will not attract, nor work for, eve-ryone, a knowledge of its history and dynamics should be made avail-able to those who are searching for ways into the world of the sacred. NOTES ~ R.C. Zaehner, Mysticism, Sacred and Profane, (New York, 1961), p. 151. 2 Robert Bly, trans., The Kabir Book, (Boston, 1977), p. 20. 3 Alan W. Watts, Myth and Ritual in Christianity, (Boston, 1968), p. 104. 4 "Bhikshu," Bhakti Yoga, (Chicago, 1930), p. 19. 5 Sandra Schneiders, New Wineskins, Re-imagining Religious Life Today, (New York, !986), p. 116. 6 Bly, p. 42. Negative Floating Barbara Dent Barbara Dent, mother and grandmother, has been for eigthteen years a Secular Carme-lite. She published "The Floating Prayer" in our issue of March/April 1988. The current article is a part of a book-in-process called Floating in Endless Love. She may be addressed at Poustinia; 7A Cromwell Place; Pukekohe, New Zealand. In this article I use the word "floating" to indicate the kind of detach-ment and freedom that is attained once we have ascended a certain dis-tance up the nada path. When I write of "floating in endless love," 1 mean the traditional self-abandonment to divine providence as exemplified by holy people of any age, and written about by such recognized saints as Teresa, John of the Cross, Francis de Sales, Jane Frances de Chantal, Caussade, Th~r~se. Our Lady is, of course, the supreme exemplar, and her "Be it done unto me according to your word," a succinct summary of the doc-trine. Divine providence is God's endless love. It had no beginning and will never have an end. It is conterminous with his Being and expresses itself throughout his creation. When he made us in his own image, he gave us the ability to be ef-fortlessly immersed in this love, borne along in the currents and eddies of its movement in time and space, as it ordained and controlled the cir-cumstances of our lives, and we rejoiced in its faultless wisdom and ten-derness. At that beginning-time we had our Creator's discerning Spirit within us, and joyfully cooperated with the process of floating in the divine will, for through it the perfection of his love for us expressed itself, and we were fully open and receptive to it. We were in the state of innocence, which means single-mindedness and wholeness of heart. 660 Negative Floating / 66"1 Then came the "aboriginal catastrophe"--in one, or many, of a num-ber of possible forms. Its basic effect was to confuse, divide, and mis-lead us about the nature of our relationship with our Master. We were, and are, no longer in that original state of love-union's positive, effort-less floating. Instead, we are too often thrashing about in protest at being in the water at all. We persist in struggling to reach some imaginary shore, strik-ing out against the current, gulping water, feeling terrified that we are drowning, pushing away Love's hand held out to draw us to safety, and generally being at odds with our spiritual environment. Our innocence lost, we have become acquainted with sin--actual or potential, deliberate or involuntary. Floating in endless love does not any longer seem to be the obvious, healthy, joyous thing for us to do. We have lost the art, and have to be taught all over again by grace. And because we no longer learn the mys-teries of God effortlessly through direct infusion, the Spirit's modes of teaching us often register on us as nay-saying, destructive, painful, and incomprehensible. This is because God's endless love flowing into us is constantly encountering obstacles of self-love and self-will within us. These cause the flow to be interrupted, dammed up, diverted, and im-peded in numberless ways. We now have to re-learn what we were fashioned to know without even thinking about it. This learning is painful and arduous, and regis-ters on us as a state of negative floating. It entails erasure of all those obstacles against floating--whether personally manufactured, handed on to us by our families and social milieu, or inherited and buried so deeply in our mysterious inner being that we shall never even catch sight of them, let alone drag them up and free ourselves from them, unless the Spirit helps us in a very special way. We are weighted down so that we are more likely to sink to the ocean bed than to float in delight in the surface currents of God's purpose, rev-elling in their effortless, exact progress towards our ultimate fulfillment in him. Positive and negative floating are part of the normal cycle of conso-lation and desolation in the spiritual life. If we persevere in floating in God's loving purpose for us, there comes a time when, just as his crea- ¯ tive energy evolved birds out of fish, he somehow dispenses altogether with the metaphorical liquid element in order to lift us up so high in the Spirit that we are suspended in midair. We usually think of such suspension as bodily levitation and miracu- 662 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 IOUS. But the essence of free-floating in the atmosphere, metaphorically speaking, is entirely spiritual and interior, a flight of the spirit that usu-ally has no physical, exterior signs at all. It is the result of an opening up to God's love that on our part includes the complete abandonment of our whole selves to his usage, and on his part such lavish infusion of his grace that its energy elevates us temporarily into his own Being. This is the ultimate in positive floating. It mysteriously and paradoxi-cally also includes the ultimate in negative floating, for in order to give ourselves up to it, we need to have renounced all the not-God elements so that there is now nothing at all in us or our lives opposing his desire to take full possession of us. God is non-corporeal. When this moment of total possession takes place, he draws up our non-corporeal spirit to merge with his own. This merging, can be accomplished in both, or either, of the positive and nega-tive floating states. After about six months of intensely positive floating immediately af-ter my reception into the Church in 1956, I was gradually translated into the negative floating state and remained there without any remission for nearly twelve years. During my conversion year, 1955, I had already learnt to enter Christ's passion with him by uniting my personal suffering with his in Gethsemane and throughout the various aspects of his passion, especially his cross-carrying and crucifixion. At one particular time in 1958 when I vividly experienced what I came to call the crucifixion of my heart, something extra happened within me that I could at the time define only as "entombment." Yet the crucifixion did not cease. I was somehow still on the cross with Christ even while I was lying dead with him in the cave tomb's cold darkness. I cannot explain how this was. I only know it happened, and was spiritually and interiorily real in an agonizing way. I think I was able to endure these years of intensely negative float-ing only because, during most of them, I was fully occupied being a daily Mass-goer, solo mother, housekeeper, teacher, breadwinner, writer, and student. There was not much opportunity for what my mother disparag-ingly used to call "navel-gazing"--adding, in exasperation, "Why don't you go out and have a good game of tennis!" In spite of immersion in an undoubtedly and unavoidably active life (my form of a good game of tennis!), I yet received insights from time to time that infused some sense into the non-sense of my relationship Negative Floating / 663 with God. For this was where the nonsense, the absurdity, occurred. My rela-tionship with Jesus in his incarnational work of suffering redeemer and crucified Lord made very good sense to me, and gave me the courage to go on enduring. It was from God and his ways that the conundrum originated. Once more he had become for me the "cruel, sadistic mon-ster" who, during the early war years, had caused my rejection of my personal and inadequate version of the Christian religion. One of the key insights I received in the earlier of these negative float-ing years of the 1960s came about as follows. I can visualize clearly where it happened, just as I can vividly recall .where other significant, instant comprehensions occurred, for example, those about "the abyss of corruption" and the self-love involved in my mechanism of setting out to "fascinate" certain people. Such instant dis-cernments come to me like a crystal globe enclosing the truth, and put whole and clear in my mind all at once. The experience is completely different from arriving at a similar conclusion by the laborious process - of ratiocination. It is a matier of immediate comprehension received as a whole and in passivity. In fact, in a floating state, as it were. On this particular occasion I was sitting one morning at the desk in the home of my eldest daughter and her husband, alone in the house ex-cept for a sleeping child. Then in one instant the insight came whole-- just like a very bright light being turned on in my mind, then extin-guished almost immediately, yet leaving behind it the vivid impression of a particular mystery made plain in its illumination. In this case, I "understood" what caused Jesus to cry out, "My God, my God, why have you rejected me?" Just as I had become one with him in other aspects of his passion at various times, now I had become one with him in his cry of derelic-tion. His cry was one with the cry of my own heart to an alien, absentee God, whose face was turned away from me in contempt. Jesus' despair-ing question was to do with his having consented to be "made sin" for us. This was the central point-of the illumination given me. I had bought my Knox bible in 1956 and used it until I obtained the Jerusalem version in 1969. The texts I have marked in the Knox were the ones that had very special meaning for me personally during these darkest years of the cry of dereliction. I have underlined, "Christ never knew sin, and God made him into sin for us, so that in him we might be turned into the holiness of God" (2 Co 5:21). I "saw" that sin was absolutely abhorrent to and automatically re- 664 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 pudiated by God because it was the antithesis of his own unblemished holiness and purity. "God was in Christ, reconciling the world to him-self, establishing in our hearts his message of reconciliation, instead of holding men to account for their sins" (2 Co 5: 19), and "In Christ the whole plenitude of Deity is embodied." Hanging on the cross, dying for us, "made sin," Jesus, though God himself, consented to be relegated in his manhood to the furthest possi-ble distance from God--as f~ir as pure sin must be, of its nature, dis-tanced from pure holiness. It must have been the most elemental, cata-clysmic, schizoid split of all time. In and through this alienation Jesus endured, "the world"--all of us sinners of all time--could be "reconciled" to God instead of being eternally severed from him in self-induced banishment. In effect, Jesus willed to go through the experience of damnation as our proxy, as vic-tim instead of us. This meant knowing God only through the aching void of his ab-sence; submitting to the punitive action of the total recoil of pure holi-ness from pure unholiness; being invaded by a sense of rejection so ab-solute as to know what the hell-state meant, and to be engulfed in it. There is impenetrable mystery here, a paradox so extreme that the human mind cannot encompass it. How could Christ, in whom "the whole plenitude of Deity" remained unimpaired, yet experience himself as "the totality of sin" rejected by that Deity? The how, the mystery, is beyond our human comprehension. The paradox is mind-blowing. I cannot explain fully what I "saw" in the illumination. At the time, I knew it without intellectual explication. This came later, as I meditated upon what I had received, and thought more about what Paul said, out of what was obviously his own personal experience and given insight. Enli/~htenments about this mystery hidden within Christ's dereliction cry have continued to come spasmodically to me up to this present time. "All alike have sinned, all alike are unworthy of God's praise. And justification comes to us as a free gift from his grace, through our re-demption in Christ Jesus. God has offered him to us as a means of rec-onciliation, in virtue of faith, ransoming us with his blood" (Rm 3:23- 25). I had already understood how the solidarity of the human race was such that the salvation or damnation of any one of us must involve and concern all of us. In pouring out in his shed blood his "free gift of grace" for us, Jesus excluded no one, for none of us is sinless. We are all inevitably born programmed for possible disaster by the racial accu- Negative Floating mulation of wrong turnings made while trying to reach a destination whose nature and location we are confused about. Our tendency to get lost is in our genes. ~ "In sin my mother conceived me," is not a reference to the sexual act as such, but to the fact that the whole of humanity is in a state of at least partial alienation from God and can be reconciled only through Christ. Jesus entered the furthest reaches of this alienation when, as the vic-tim for our sins, he uttered his cry of dereliction on the cross. I saw in my moment of illumination that, once I had in 1957 told God he could have me as a victim for the salvation of souls (if he wanted me), I had implicitly consented to enter in some way into this dereliction of Jesus, and keep him company. At the same time, I was not certain God had accepted my offer, for no one had yet confirmed that I was indeed a victim, and I was not to have that assurance for several years yet. It was only then that everything fitted together coherently. But I did see in that moment of revelation that here was the meaning and purpose of the annihilating experience of my-self as spurned and rejected by God, even while at the same time, in my will, I refused to let go of him, and clung on with all my strength. Much later, I realized that even while God "rejected" me, he gave me that very grace I needed to cling tenaciously to him. At the same time, the illumination did not bring me any comforting reassurance, for I could not really believe it applied to me. This may seem a contradiction, but the grace of comfort is an extra grace, and for those years of torment God chose to withhold it from me, no matter what insights he gave my intellect. That I already had a well-established, deep-seated rejection syn-drome as part of my emotional makeup made it simpler and easier for all of this to happen. Grace had only to activate and utilize what was al-ready there, so deeply rooted in my inner being. I believe that God did this in order to use me for others as I had pleaded with him to do. In the terms I have since evolved for myself, I was "floating". in the negative way with Jesus on the cross, as part of "the Dali image." I was there tb help my neighbor, any neighbor--it was for God to choose whom, I never asked to be shown who, how, or where. "Enemies of God, we were reconciled to him through his Son's death; reconciled to him, we are surer than ever of finding salvation in his Son's life. And, what is more, we can boast of God's protection; al-ways through our Lord Jesus Christ, since it is through him that we have 666 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 attained our reconciliation"(Rm 5:10-1 I). "We who were taken up into Christ by baptism have been taken up, all of us, into his death . We have to be closely fitted into the pat-tern of his resurrection, as we have been into the pattern of his death" (Rm 6:3, 5). Sin and salvation, death and life, crucifixion and resurrection, Jesus and all of us--inseparable. It is all mingled together like the confluence of two mighty rivers flowing as one towards the ocean of eternity and infinity. We have to "share his sufferings if we are to share his glory" (Rm 8:17). Some refuse the suffering and do not believe in the glory. Proxies must, in their stead, agree to be immersed in the passion with Jesus, so that the glory will permeate them, too. He came to save all. His will to redeem the whole of humanity can-not and will not be thwarted, but we are all one with him, and so those who are willing must help him save those who are unwilling. He expects and requires this of his lovers, though not necessarily as explicit victims, for this must be a given vocation. "For thy sake, we face death at every moment, reckoned no better than sheep marked down for slaughter. Yet in all this we are conquer-ors, through him who has granted us his love" (Rm 8:36-37). In the "inscrutable judgments" and "undiscoverable ways" of God is hidden the mystery of the redemption of the human race, in which all participate, consciously or unconsciously. The willing "offer up their bodies as a living sacrifice" because "though we are many in number" (trillions and trillions of us back to the beginning and on to the end of time), we yet "form one body in Christ and each acts as the counter-part of the other" (see Rm 12). Paul insists we are "Christ's body, organs of it depending upon each other" (1 Co 12:27), and therefore "the sufferings of Christ overflow into our lives"--together with divine comfort (2 Co 1:5). For Paul, shar-ing in the sufferings of Christ in order to bring forth spiritual children for him, is a fundamental Christian vocation. He writes, "It makes me happy to suffer for you, as I am sufferi.ng now, and in my own body to do what I can to make up all that has still to be undergone by Christ for the sake of his body, the Church. I became the servant of the Church" (Col 1:24-25). All these teachings of St. Paul, marked in my Knox bible, had had dynamic personal meaning for me ever since 1956, the year of my re-ception into the Church. They had been fortified and elucidated by stud-ies of such theological works as The Whole Christ by E. Mersch, S.J. Negative Floating / 66"/ (Dobson, London, 1956). They were in the very fiber of my interior life, yet, though I knew, believed, and lived what Jesus exemplified and Paul taught and lived, no felt comfort and consolation resulted. I was given strength to endure (while experiencing myself as weak and destitute) and that was all. But to endure and to persevere is at the very basis of the nada path journey, and the grace given me to do this was among the supreme ones of my life. Father Basil had now become my director, though, as he had been transferred, we seldom had the chance to meet. What he wrote to me in a letter of July, 1963, is relevant to the above. I quote: God does love you very dearly. Think of the tremendous graces that you have received from him. Your desire to give him everything in return is all that matters. You give, generously, only to the One whom you love . I am not so much concerned about the aridity and difficulty that you are experiencing at your prayers and the seeming loss of God. What I am concerned about is your loss of peace and near panic, because of the difficulties. The temptation to discouragement is one of the most insidious and dangerous for an interior soul. If you are patient and do not allow this temptation to dictate any change in your program of the day, you have nothing to fear. In his own good time he will give you the light and the warmth that seem to have disappeared. There is noth-ing in your day that is not worthy of being offered to him. This means that you are every hour united more intimately with him. You are grow-ing in charity and all the virtues, without being conscious of the growth. The increase in charity is all that matters. His reassurance was a blessing, calming me until the next spasm of self-doubt and apparent rejection by God afflicted me. Then I would re-read what he said, and be comforted again. In a queer way it was as if God himself was telling me, "Don't worry. Everything's all right-- even though it seems to be all wrong." Again he was loving me through "a soul in which he had established himself," just as he had promised as I lay so ill and weak in the hospital. One or two entries in my journals record various aspects of my nega-tive floating at this time. In the following, I think my way through to a grace-enlightened conclusion in faith, hope, and trust. It was not given to me in~stantaneously as a crystal globe. I quote from a 1963 rare entry: It is the risen Lord who permeates the whole of creation. 1 have been experiencing the suffering Christ. The climax came in the crucifixion of my heart. Then entombment and silence. Only the dead Christ there, un- 668 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 stirring~ and myself numb and seemingly dead with him year after year, waiting and praying and longing for the resurrection. Now I see the the Lord is risen. He fills my soul and the whole of his Mystical Body. He has risen as he said he would, even while I mourned him dead in me, and I dead with him. He is risen. How can this become more real to me, so that I too rise with him? Let me think . It is the risen Lord who permeates the whole of creation. Therefore he is not dead in me~ for his resurrection truly hap-pened. But something did die in me and was entombed. What was it? The overwhelming sense of entombment. Christ dead and in the tomb. And it was a significant turning point. What died? My attachment to and need of natural love? But the process of purgation through hu-man relationships still continues. Yet it is different. How? What died and was buried? "You have undergone death, and your life is buried and hidden away with Christ." I made a heartbreaking renunciation of my own free will, and I gave up--what? What died? My heart died. Yet I found other loves. "Christ, having undergone death, cannot die any more . He is not here; he has risen as he told you . We have to be closely fitted into the pattern of his resurrection, as we have been into the pattern of his death . We'know that Christ, now he has risen from the dead, cannot die any more. Death has no more power over him . " It was not Christ who died in me, for he cannot die any more. It was something in myself that died. And all the while I have been entombed, he has been living in my soul the life of the risen Lord. His resurrection is continuous just as much as his passion is. Somehow I have to become united with this.risen Christ. Like La-zarus called forth from the tomb, I have to shed my grave clothes and answer the call of the Lord, but "how? How? I don't know how. He has to say, "Come forth," and then I shall be able to move. Yet he eternally says, "Come forth," inviting me to share his life of glory in the Trinity, the life he is already living in my soul all the time I am in a state of grace. Only somehow I cannot unite myself with it, because the tomb wall seems in the way. What is the tomb wall? My compulsion to suffer psychologically in a certain way? Perhaps. Lord, give me light. Holy Spirit, whom he sends, lead me forth. Pray in and for me. I have been in a state of inertia, feeling I could do nothing till Christ rose in me--but he has never been dead in me. It was a part of myself that died, not he. All the time he has been waiting for me to come to him. Perhaps he has already said, "Come forth," only I have been so busy with my self-inflicted mourning, that l haven't heard him. My anguish was the death of some form of self-love, the crucifix- Negative Floating / 669 ion of some kind of seif-will, some aspect of the "world" that I clung to. "The people that lived in darkness have seen a great light . And he shall reign forever and ever . Come and bring forth from the dungeon the prisoner sitting in darkness and the shadow of death . " The shadow of my death. Just one of the excruciatihg deaths one must die before one can mount to a higher level on the nada path. Death and renewal. Part of his passion, but the passion is always inseparable from the resurrection, and the resurrection is. I don't have to wait for it--it is. 1 am already in it by the power of g~:ace and the presence of God in my soul. How then do I.realize and live consciously this risen life? That is the question. The "how" was to remain unrealized by me for some years yet. In the meantime I had to live in pure faith the reality of the crucified, en-tombed, but already risen Lord in me and in the whole of creation. 1 had to stay on the cross and in the tomb till God himself chose the time and way for my personal resurrection. I could not raise up myself. It had to be a work of pure grace. The words I use in another brief entry near the end of 1964 all re-veal a state of unalleviated negative floating. They are: Emptiness. Noth-ing. Waiting. Search. No finding. Grief. No.comfort. Dryness. Frigid-i'ty. Impotence. Waiting. Alone. Loneliness. Wa, iting--on and on. Dead-ness. ~umbness. Insensibility. No tears . . . too dry . . . But I believe. I hope. I suffer. I love. I wait. He loves. 1 know he loves. I believe he loves. Amen. In her Life Teresa of Avila tells of a spiritual state that reminds me of what I call "negative floating." First she mentions how St. Paul wrote about "being crucified to the world." Then she comments on how this reminds her of the soul that is receiving comfort from neither heaven nor earth, nor from any other source either. She says that in such a/ state of suspension and denial the soul is "crucified between heaven and earth; and it suffers greatly, for no help comes to it either from the one or from the other." It is "sus-pended by (its) distress, just as in union and rapture (it is) suspended by joy . It is a martyrdom." She records that when she is not physically occupied so that her mind is on something else, she is "plunged into these death-like yearnings." The "pain is so excessive that (she) can scarcely bear it"; she feels as though she has "a rope around (her) neck, is being strangled, is trying 670 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 to breathe . . . and crying out for help to breathe." She longs and longs to be able to talk to someone "who has passed through the same torment, for she finds that, despite her complaints of it, no one seems to believe her." (See Life, Ch. XX.) It was not till my own darkest years were past that I came across the above and was forcibly struck by its similarity to what I myself had ex-perienced. When actually immersed in that suffering, I remember having read that one of the worst sufferings of Jesus on the cross must have been be-ing stifled by his inability to breathe. This was caused by the constric-tion of lungs, heart, and ribs in his hanging posture. To ease it he must have had to heave himself up repeatedly on his nailed feet--an extra ag-ony. I think Teresa is describing the spiritual equivalent of this condition for those in the negative floating state of union with Jesus hanging on the cross. John of the Cross, using different metaphors, writes of what I take to be a similar state. He says it is caused by "purgative contemplation" during which the inflowing of God's presence into the soul "in order to renew it" reaches down into its depths, into its very "spiritual substance." The soul seems to itself to be "drowned in darkness," to be "melting away" and to be enveloped by "a cruel spiritual death." Metaphorically it is like Jonah in the whale's belly. (In relation to this present article, it is worth recalling that Jonah's ordeal has been accepted as a scriptural symbol for Jesus' entombment.) John writes that "in this sepulcher of dark death (the soul) must needs abide until the spiritual resurrection which it hopes for." It is consumed by "the lamentations of death., the pains of hell ¯ . . the clear perception that God has abandoned it, in his abhorrence of it, and has flung it into darkness." It feels "itself to be without God, and chastised and cast out, and unworthy of him; and it feels he is wrathful With it." John also speaks of spiritual stifling and "afflictive suffering" that consists of the soul's feeling as though it "were suspended or held in the air so that it could not breathe." The state is intensified by the fact that the sufferer cannot find help or understanding from any human be-ing. He concludes by writing, "Of such are they that in truth go down alive into hell" (purgatory). (See Dark Night H, Ch. VI.) Negative Floating / 671 I do not know whether what I experienced during these years was the same as what is described by Teresa and John. I only know that when I read them now, as in the above passages, I feel I understand exactly what is being reported, because I myself have been through it. Shall it be N or N plus I lamN. I accepted that. I buried deep in my mind My mathematical knowledge Of what N could really be. Not satisfied with status quo But dreading the pain That moving might mean, I embraced N-fixed, safe and therefore undemanding. Memory would not be stifled. Knowledge that N can be expanded Would twist and turn and peek out Coming to the surface unexpectedly And at times unwanted. There is more. Why not N plus one? Expanding toward potential Could hurt, could be dearly bought. Surely, only here is progress, Expansion toward great goals. Why else do I exist? Except to know N is not complete Without Him as plus One. Sister Marjorie Sweeney, S.S.J. St. Joseph Convent 734 Willow Street Lebanon, PA 17042 Spiritual Dryness: Some Practical Guidelines Eamon Tobin Father Eamon Tobin, having completed the Master's degree in Formative Spiritual-ity at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, is currently pastor of a parish in Cocoa Beach, Florida. His address is Church of Our Savior; 5301 North Atlantic Avenue; Cocoa Beach, Florida 32931. The Lord, your God, will circumcise your hearts., that you may love the Lord, your God, with all your heart and all your soul, and so may live (Dt 30:6). Blessed. is the person who can call the darkness holy, who can desire its purification, who can rest in its presence. Such a person will grow rapidly because the process of purification is facilitated by generosity (Source Unknown). [~'very praying person sooner or later experiences what is called dryness in prayer. In spiritual dryness we have no felt sense of God's presence. We may,even think we have lost our Beloved or feel abandoned by him. In the sch~)ol, of prayer, few things are more important to understand than the nature and role of spiritual dryness, I intend to deal with this impor-tant dimension of the spiritual life by responding to five important ques-tions that one can ask about prayer in the desert. Question 1: What is it that praying people experience during the desert periods of the spiritual"jou~rney? The actual desert experience of praying persons will vary depending on the level of faith and spiritual maturity. For example, for the beginner in prayer spiritual dryness fre-quently means not just the absence of a felt sense of the presence of God 672 Spiritual Dryness / 67'3 but also feelings of what Saint Ignatius calls desolation--that is, feel-ings of anxiousness, sadness, or lo.ss of peace flowing from the thought, "I have lost God," or "God has abandoned me." On the other hand, for the person who is more mature in faith and advanced in the ways of prayer, spiritual dryness may not be an experience of desolation. The ex-perience will be one which lacks a felt sense of God's presence but may be accompanied by the conviction: "Even though I can't feel his pres-ence (at least on the external level), I do believe he is close and active in my life. Even though I cannot feel his presence (that is, spiritual dry-ness), I don't feel anxious, sad, or abandoned (that is, desolation). In fact, I feel peaceful." ~ To believe that God is present and active despite his apparent absence can be considered one of the greatest blessings of the spiritual life. For most of us, particularly in the early years of prayer, spiritual dryness usually includes the experience of desolation ("I have lost God; God has abandoned me"). Usually it is a time of spiritual suf-fering. We think we are getting the "silent treatment" from God. We "call out to him all day long, but he never answers" (Ps 22:3).2 Spiri-tual dryness is like journeying in the desert with no water in sight. Prayer is no longer exciting; rather, it is a weary struggle. Spiritual exercises that once nourished us now are empty, and we have little or no desire .to do them. Another dimension of the desert experience may be a feeling of dis-couragement as we become keenly aware of our own sinfulness. (We may not yet know that one of the surest signs of growth in the interior life is a growing awareness of our own sinfulness.) We may begin to think we are regressing rather than progressing. We may begin to expe-rience one of the great paradoxes of the spiritual life: the closer we come to God the further it seems to us that we are away from him. As we get closer to the all-piercing Light of God, the more our own darkness will show itself. Our lives will appear to be hollow and mediocre. The Scot-tish priest, the late Father John Dalrymple, writes: "It is as if I were to bring the sleeve of my coat toward the window of the room, and as I move into the light, the dust and dandruff on the sleeve become more obvious. It is not that as I moved the coat got dirtier, but that the light got brighter.''3 All in all, the thing that scares us most and even hurts us is the thought, "I have lost my Beloved; he has abandoned me" (See Song of Songs, Chapter 3). This thought or feeling is the experience of desolation described above. To sum up, we can say that while the actual experience of the desert will be different for different people, for all of us it will mean a felt sense 6"/4 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 of the absence of God. And for those of us whose faith in God is still fragile, it will frequently involve the experience of desolation (the "I have lost God" feeling). In reading the above description of spiritual dryness, one may think that it is something only experienced by monks, religious, and the ex-ceptional lay person~ Yet spiritual directors tell us that this experience is quite .common in the lives of many average, prayerful people who dis-cover somewhere in the midst of their spiritual journeys that spiritual ex-ercises that once nourished them spiritually now do nothing for them. Question 2: Why is an understanding of this dimension of prayer so important? There are at least three reasons why some understanding of spiritual dryness is important. First, if we do not know the role of the times of dryness, we may think that we have "lost God" and that our prior, positive feelings in prayer were not a gift from God but the crea-tion of our own imaginations. This frequently happens. Many people who have a genuine conversion and get all excited about prayer quit when the well runs dry. This is sad because it is now that God wants to do his real work in such persons. Second, lack of knowledge about the purpose of spiritual dryness may cause us to continue praying in a way that, at this particular stage in our spiritual journey, may be more of an obstacle than a help to our spiritual growth. Many people are unaware that at some stage in the spiritual journey God calls us to become less active in prayer so that he can be more active in our spiritual transfor-mation. Third, the experience of spiritual dryness may be something caused by ourselves or something permitted by God. When it is permit-ted by God, it is meant to purify us and bring us closer to him. Such dry-ness is a gift to be accepted and embraced. When spiritual dryness is our doing, we need to work at removing the causes of such dryness. Lack of knowledge about the nature and role of spiritual dryness may lead us to believe that a particular experience of dryness in prayer is authentic and God-given when in fact it is something brought on by our own infi-delities. So the time of spiritual dryness is a critical time in the spiritual jour-ney. How we respond to it will determine whether we move forward spiri-tually or stagnate. Question 3: Why does God permit us to experience desert peri-ods in the spiritual journey? So I will allure her 1 will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart (Ho 2:16). Spiritual Dryness / 675 God permits us to experience spiritual desert periods in order to pu-rify us of those things that hinder our spiritual transformation and to teach us some important lessons about the spiritual life and how it works. In our answer to this question we will look at some specific purifications that God works in us and lessons that he teaches us in the desert. Purifications of the Desert In the desert God will want to purify us of any excessive attachment we may have to consolation in prayer. If in prayer God blesses us with a lot of consolations (or "spiritual highs" as we often say today), there is a danger that we may seek and love "the consolations of our God more than the God of our consolations" (Saint Teresa of Avila). In time of spiritual consolation it is easy to pray. The challenge is to remain faith-ful to prayer when we experience little or no felt sense of God's pres-ence or action in our lives. During such dry periods God is asking us to love him for himself and not just for the spiritual highs or consolations he offers us in prayer. He is asking us to show that we are not just fair-weather friends but all-weather friends. And he is teaching us the im-portant lesson that he is to be found more deeply in the desert than in the garden of superficial delights. Secondly, in the desert God purifies us of spiritual vanity. John Dal-rymple explains sp!ritual vanity in this way: Someone taking to religion in all zeal, becoming caught upI in a cam-paign of prayer, fasting, spiritual reading, liturgical practice, and retreat weekends might be indulging unawares in one big ego-trip. Conversion of the soul from a worldly life to a spiritual life is at first s, uperficial only. The convert has been given new, spiritual goals; but the conver~- sion is only external. In itself the sofil is as full as it ever was of unre-generate tendencies to vanity, arrogance, acquisitiveness, the only dif-ference being that after conversion these tendencies are now attached to spiritual instead of worldly objects . The zeal of such a person is infectious, but it is, as yet, chiefly the expression of the person's vanity or self-centeredness, dressed up in Christian clothes.4 For God to do his work of spiritual transformation in us, he must pu-rify us of such spiritual vanity. God often brings about this purification in us by bringing to naught our best efforts to change ourselves and eve-rything and everyone around us. As we sit on the ruins of our self-made temples and projects, we are purified of spiritual vanity and arrogance, and we learn the meaning of spiritual poverty, which is realizing our com-plete dependence and need for God to bring about any spiritual growth 676 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 in others or in ourselves. In the desert, God's intention is not to punish us but to purify us. In the journey of life we consciously or unconsciously become overly-attached to persons or things--so much so that they become idols (that is, more important to us than God). This happened to Israel after she lived in the Promised Land for some time. She became so enamored with the blessings of the land that she forgot the One who gave her the land. To purify her of this idolatry God led Israel into the desert for a second time where she would be free of all her attachments and free to listen anew to the Word of God (See Hosea, Chapter 2). Lessons to Be Learned in the Desert Now let us briefly look at some of the lessons that God wishes to teach us in the desert. When God takes away consolation in prayer (that is, the felt sense of his presence), he wants to teach us the important lesson that he can be encountered at a deeper level than our emotions. He wants to teach us that we are no longer dependent on emotional returns to know we have encountered him. As we grow in our relationship with God, the more we will "learn to be at home in the dark because we are sure, in faith, that the potter is truly shaping the clay, even though the clay sees nothing of what is happening."5 An example about eating food might help to illustrate this point more clearly. Sometimes we may immensely enjoy eating a delicious meal. We may savor every morsel of the food. All in all, it is a delightful ex-perience. On another occasion we may not enjoy at all another type of delicious meal. We may not be feeling well, or the food may not appeal to us. Yet from a nutritious point of view, both meals are equally good. Our lack of enjoyment of the second meal in no way diminishes its nu-tritious value. The same principle is at work when it comes to prayer. Sometimes when we pray we really feel and savor God's presence and love. At other times the prayer is empty and dull. Who are we, though, to say that the latter time is of no benefit to our spiritual growth or is less pleasing in God's sight? A second lesson God teaches us in the desert is that spiritual conso-lation is his p.ure gift to us and not something we can earn by being good or by praying :in a particular way. In prayer God teaches us this impor-tant lesson by "dropping in" on us when we least expect him and by "failing to show" when we very much want to experience his presence. A third lesson that God wishes to teach us in the desert is that spiri- Spiritual Dryness / 677 tual growth is totally dependent on his work in us and not on anything we do. Our task is simply to be flexible and cooperative with the move-ment of his Spirit. In the spiritual life, "working at it" often means "be-ing still," "just being there" and exercising discipline over our doing and achieving self which so often wants to run the show. This is a diffi-cult lesson for us because so much of our training for the outer journey of life has told us to be "take-charge" and self-sufficient persons. It is not easy for us to switch gears in the inner journey. In the spiritual life God is the Chief Actor; we are the acted-upon. Mary, at the Annunciation (Lk 1:26-38), is our perfect model. When God mysteriously breaks into Mary's life and invites her to become the mother of Jesus, she doesn't respond, "Sure, Lord, I'll do it!" Rather, she says, "I am your maidservant; work in and through me as you want." Mary's response was, "Fiat, be it done unto me," not, "I'11 do it." This attitude is one of active receptivity, and it is the secret of Christian spirituality and spiritual growth. Active receptivity is charac-terized by the effort to place our energy, will, and freedom at the dis-posal of God so that he can do with us and in us what he wills, Finally, when God our Father allows our prayer to run dry, he is in-viting us to participate in the cross of Jesus. In times of dryness we are experiencing the thirst of Jesus on the cross. If the cross was Jesus' way to the Father, then surely we, the disciples of Jesus, cannot expect to travel the scenic route free of all pain and hardship. When we experi-ence darkness in prayer or in the marketplace, we are being invited to identify with Jesus in his suffering, in his experience of feeling aban-doned by the Father. Also in the desert we are being invited and chal-lenged to trust that our God will not abandon us but will come to rescue us and redeem us (See Exodus, Chapter 16). Question 4: How can I tell when a particular desert experience is caused by my own infidelity or is something permitted by God to help me to grow in my relationship with him? When dryness occurs in prayer, particularly in the early stages when God is giving alternating periods of dryness and consolation, wemay tend to blame ourselves for dryness. We may wonder what latest infidelity we committed to bring about this dryness. The fact may be that we have done nothing wrong . to occasion the dryness. God may be allowing us to experience the dry-ness bechuse he wants to teach us some lesson and/or purify some as-pect of our relationship with him. On the other hand, we may think the dryness is from God when in fact it is caused by our own laxity and sin-fulness. Therefore, it is important that we be able to discern the true 6711 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 cause of the dryness because our response to it will differ, depending on whether the dryness is permitted by God or is something brought on by ourselves. Let us now identify several ways that we can bring about our own spiritual desert. ( 1 ) Indifference to a Sinful Pattern of Behavior: If we are indifferent to some sinful pattern of behavior in our lives, then we can expect diffi-culty in prayer. In a human friendship a negative pattern of behavior (for example, a critical or lying spirit), which we make no effort to ,change, will have a destructive effect on the whole relationship. Likewise, if in our relationship with God, we are deliberately ignoring a sinful pattern of behavior (for example, involvement in an illicit relationship, unfor-giveness, unethical business practices), then we can rightfully expect ten-sion in our relationship with God. When we do the above, we are delib-erately excluding the Lord and his influence from some area of our lives. In such a situation we should not be surprised that we do not feel God's presence very much in prayer. Here it is important to note that I am not referring to a sinful pattern of behavior that we are trying to change and that we are bringing before the Lord in prayer. In this case we are rec-ognizing sin and struggling with it. Instead of keeping us from God, our struggle with a particular sin or weakness may be the very means that God will use to allow us to experience his love, mercy and power. (See 2 Co 12:7-10 for Paul's famous example of how his thorn in the flesh became the very means of God's power.) In the former case, we are not even confronting our sin or seeking God's help with it. Instead we are deliberately ignoring its existence or trying to rationalize its O.K. 'hess. In the latter case, our sin grieves us and we are doing what we can to remove it from our lives. (2) Repressed Anger at God: Two highly-respected spiritual direc-tors, Fathers William Connoily and William Barry, write in a co-authored book: "When prayer flattens out, or appears tO be facing an iron wall, the director must always suspect the presence of unexpressed anger."6 To add to this problem, many of us were raised in a culture where appropriate expression of anger was socially unacceptable. "Hence resentments, holding a grudge or subdued rage, when they are present, are all likely to be given other names like indifference and ra-tional analysis."7 When someone hurts us, our relationship with that per-son will diminish, even if we decide to present an affable, friendly front; but in reality we will distance Ourselves emotionally from the person. In a similar way, if we become angry with God about something, we may Spiritual Dryness / 679 continue to be faithful to our prayer time, but on an emotional level we can be fairly sure we have distanced ourselves from him. (It is impor-tant for us to be aware that if life is handing us a raw deal, we may well be unconsciously blaming God, the Source of all things, for our lousy situation.) (3) Separation of Prayer and Life: The spiritual life is all of life and not just one segment of it. The Lord refuses to be a compartmentalized God; he wants to be a part and parcel of our whole life. When we try to keep God in church or in our prayer closet and not allow him to guide all the activities of our day, we can be sure that we are setting ourselves up for dryness in prayer. If we exclude God from the activities of our day, then we should not be surprised if he is missing from our prayer time. Even on a human level, no one likes to be a "tag-along" in some-one else's life. (4) Overwork: When our prayer life dries up, it is good for us to ask if we are pushing ourselves too much on the vital and functional dimen-sions of life. "Am I overworked? Am I over-tired? Am I coming down with the flu? Am I neglecting physical exercise? Do I have a tendency to make leisure time work? Or do I have leisure time--period?" These are important questions to ask. These things affect our prayer life. If we fail to care properly for our bodies, then we are neglecting a dimension of ourselves that we depend on to help us to pray. When we are very tired and overworked, prayer may well be seen as just another duty or thing to do. (5) Lack of Honesty in Prayer: Just as shallow or dishonest sharing dulls human relationships, it also dulls the Divine-human relationship. If our prayer is no more than "sweet talk" to "sweet Jesus," we should not expect Jesu~ to be too interested in our conversation. We must learn to talk to the Lord about the real stuff in our lives. (6) Halfhearted Efforts at Prayer: On a human level two friends may fail to really connect with each other because their conversations are "just words," words that fail to express what they are truly thinking and feeling. The problem may be that deep down they don't want to or are scared to encounter each other in a deep way. When a relationship is char-acterized by this type of communication, then we should expect it to be empty and unfulfiiling. In a similar vein, when our prayer time mainly consists of the rote recitation of certain prayers or of inattentive spiritual reading--if beneath the "saying of prayers" and the acts of piety there is no real desire to encounter God and grow in relationship with him-- then we should expect little or no satisfaction in prayer. In fact, our spiri- Review for Religious, September-October 1989 tual exercises may become a substitute for a real relationship with God. If we discern that we are the cause of our spiritual dryness, we should do all we can to remove the particular obstacle. For example, if the problem or obstacle is that we are holding onto a grudge and doing nothingto let it go, then we may need to pray for forgiveness for that person and/or we may need to have an open chat with the person with whom we are having a problem. If we discern that our experience of spiri-tual dryness is due to our tendency to separate prayer and life (see ob-stacle number three above), then our solution will be to work at allow-ing the Lord to walk with us in all the activities of our day. In short, when we discern that we are the cause of the spiritual dryness, then we ought to do something to remove the obstacle. It is the experience of most, if not all, disciples of the Lord that once they begin to struggle with an obstacle, prayer again becomes alive and they experience a new closeness to God. Finally, it should be noted that in trying to discern the cause of our spiritual dryness we would be well advised to seek the coun- ¯ sel of a good spiritual director. When we experience spiritual dryness most of us have a tendency to think that it is due to some infidelity on our part. The truth may be that God is permitting us to experience the desert so that he can continue his purifying work in us. This brings us to the second part of our response to Question 4: "How might we know that it is God and not us who is calling us into a spiritual desert?" While we can never be absolutely sure--since we live by faith and not by clear vision--when spiritual dryness is being per-mitted by God, we can say that the following are good indicators that the dryness is the purifying work of God: --If during the time of dryness we remain faithful to prayer. --If our prayer is honest and flowing from the real stuff of our lives. --If we are trying to integrate prayer and life. --If we are trying to live a life of charity; if our prayer is helping us to be more loving. --If we are genuinely trying to avoid sin and live our lives accord-ing to God's Word. --If we thirst for God as we walk in the desert. (It is crucial that we, remember that our desire for God is in itself a tangible sign of his pres-ence in our lives. We couldn't even desire God if he didn't place that desire in our hearts.) You will notice that the above signs are pretty much the opposite of the ways that we ourselves bring about our own spiritual desert. Prayer, like so many other things in life, is a series of "arrivals" Spiritual Dryness and "starting points." We arrive at a point where we feel good. We ex-perience the grace of consolation. But that only lasts a little while and then a certain discontent (a kind of desert) sets in--a discontent that may be caused by ourselves or permitted by God. Then we are faced with the challenge of discerning who is causing the discontent: "Is it God or me?" The purpose of the discontent caused by him is to create in us a longing for more, to create in us a desire to move closer to God. In the spiritual journey God brings us to a particular point or state; he lets us rest there and enjoy that plateau for a little while, and then he says, "O.K. Let's move ahead and seek for more" (see Ex 40:36-37). Of course, it is not easy to move when we are not sure where he is leading us. All he says is, "Move and trust that I'll take you to a new and bet-ter place." Finally, if we are in doubt about the cause ofour discontent or dry-ness, then we should talk to a spiritual guide or, if that is not possible, simply say a prayer like this: "Lord, if this dryness I am experiencing is due to some failing of mine, please reveal it to me. Until you do I am going to assume that I am not the cause of the dryness." Question 5: What are some resources available to us to sustain us in the desert? Four resources that will sustain us in the desert are: --a wise spiritual director; --a strong faith; --fidelity to prayer; --the support of fellow pilgrims. Our first help is a wise spiritual director. By wise I mean one who understands the role of the desert in the spiritual life and hopefully one who has experienced and grown through the desert in his or her own spiri-tual journey. Many people whom God led into the desert for purifica-tion have suffered much at the hands of well-intentioned but misinformed spiritual guides. Saint John of the Cross reserves some of his harshest words for such misinformed guides.8 For example, a misinformed guide may insist that a directee continue to meditate and do a lot of spiritual reading when God is calling her to the prayer of contemplation. In the desert a good spiritual director will be a source of guidance, encourage-ment and inspiration. When we are in a spiritual desert, it is important that we learn to place our trust in a good spiritual director. But, as most of us know, wise spiritual directors are nearly as scarce as palm trees in the northern states of America. The truth is that the road to authenticity is dangerous, hard, and narrow, and few decide to travel it. In the ab-sence of a wise spiritual director (and there is really no substitute for such Review for Religious, .September-October 1989 a person), one may receive some guidance from books that are written or recommended by people who are recognized guides of the inner jour-ney. A second important resource is a strong faith--a faith that enables US" --to believe that God knows what he is doing when he allows us to ex-perience the desert (Rm 11:33-36); --to believe that in the desert God is not punishing us but is purifying us (Dt 30:6); --to believe that God grows his best flowers (virtues) in the desert (Ho 2); --to believe that God works in us while we rest in him (Mk 4:26-29); --to believe that in the struggles of life God is on our side fighting our battles (Ex 14:13-14 and Dt 1:30-33); --to believe that in the desert God's seeming absence is just a different type of presence, one that we may not as yet have recognized (Ex 16); --to be secure with insecurity (Rm 8:28); --above all, to generously abandon ourselves to the purifying work of God (Lk 23:46). A third important resource as we struggle in the desert is fidelity to prayer. In the desert, prayer is usually dry and therefore all the more dif-ficult to remain faithful to. When it comes to praying in the desert, spiri-tual guides counsel us to avoid two extremes or temptations. The first temptation is to quit prayer, thinking that our best efforts are leading us nowhere. The second temptation is to "junk up" our prayer time with extra prayers, rosaries, Scripture reading, and so forth, thinking that if we only try harder maybe we will feel the presence of God. This second temptation needs to be resisted not only because it blocks what God is about in the desert but also because it is (usually unconsciously) our at-tempt to stay in or get back into the driver's seat. In general, prayer in the desert will become much less active, more passive--less us, more God. The challenge will be to learn to sit quietly in the presence of God, trusting that he is at work in us while we rest in him. Le~.rning to "waste time doi.ng nothing" in prayer is, without a doubt, one of the most difficult lessons we have to learn in the school of prayer. Unfortunately, most of us never learn to waste time gracefully in the presence of God. Such a practice goes completely against our west-ern, work-ethic nature that is usually driven to do, to achieve, and to pro-duce-- that likes to see tangible results for its efforts. Because of this need in us, most of us fill the vacuum that we feel in the desert with read- Spiritual Dryness ing or prayers of some sort. For those of us who are willing to try and do less (that is, to be less active) in prayer so that God may do more in us, the following suggestions might be helpful. -Spend some time just "being there" with the Lord, aware that as "we rest in him he is at work in us." We put aside all effort to achieve because now we are learning that achievement (growth) is God's work. By periodically spending some time "doing nothing" in the presence of the Lord, we are expressing our faith in an important spiritual dictum: "God's activity in prayer is more important than my activity." -Spend some time slowly repeating prayers like: "Incline my heart to your will, O Lord." "Make me want you, O Lord, more than anyone/ thing in my life." -Take a phrase of Scripture like "You are my beloved Son" and dwell on it. -Simply take one word like "Jesus" or "love" and repeat it gent-ly and slowly, letting God work in us, leading us beyond conceptual thoughts, images, or feelings to wordless depths. -Image and be present to Mary in the Temple after she lost Jesus (Lk 2:41-50) and at the foot of the cross (Jn 19:25-27) which must have been a real dark night of the spirit for her. Ask Mary to intercede for you so that you may have something of the faith which she had when she thought she had lost Jesus. -Finally, you may want to read something on spiritual dryness. By simply reading and rereading portions of a book like When the Well Runs Dry, I am encouraged to persevere in the desert. Personally, I need to hear over and over again the teaching and encouragement that a book like Father Green's offers. In prayer our role is to be faithful in coming aside, to be at God's disposal. What actually happens in prayer is God's business. For me this piece of wisdom has always been very consoling. It helped to free me from thinking that it was up to me to make things happen in prayer. Now I am more relaxed, knowing that my role is to be faithful in coming aside, to do what I can to eliminate distractions from within and with-out, and to pray as I feel led. ("Pray as you can, not as you can't.") The rest is in God's hands. If he chooses to bless me with a deep sense of his presence, I am indeed very grateful. If he chooses to bless me with his seeming absence (God is always only seemingly absent), then I try to be grateful for that, also believing that God knows what will best help me to grow. "Our prayer is good when our hearts are fixed on God, even if it is filled with boring aridity or passionate turmoil.' ,9 Review for Religious, September-October 1989 A fourth resource in the desert is the prayer and personal support of fellow pilgrims. While each person's inner journey is very personal and unique, still we can learn much from the journeys of co-pilgrims. Only the foolish try to travel the inner jou~rney alone. In the desert we are all beggars sharing morsels of bread with each other. Also, if we are blessed enough to be a part of a small, faith---sharing group, then we have avail-able to us an excellent resourc_~e for the dry times. In the dry times the prayers of'fellow pilgrims are usually a big help. I wbuld like to conclude our discussion on spiritual dryness with a prayer that I have found to be a source of great encouragement during times of spiritual desolation. Dear Lord, in the midst of much inner turmoil and restlessness, there is a consoling thought: maybe you are working in me in a way I cannot yet feel, experience, or understand. My mind is not able to concentrate on you, my heart is not able to remain centered, and it seems as if you are absent and have left me alone. But in faith I cling to you. I believe that your Spirit reaches deeper and further than my mind or heart, and that profound movements are not the first to be noticed. Therefore, Lord, I promise I will not run away, not give up, not stop praying, even when it all seems useless, pointless, and a waste of time and effort. I want to let you know that I love you even though | do not feel loved by you, and that I hope in you even though I often experi-ence despair. Let this be a little dying I can do with you and for you as a way of experiencing some solidarity with the millions in this world who suffer far more than I do. Amen.~° NOTES ~ See Thomas H. Green, S. J., Weeds Among the Wheat (Notre Dame, Indiana, 1984), Chapters 6 and 7. Also see Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dry (Notre Dame, Indiana, 1979), p. 92. 2 Some other Psalms that reflect darkness in the prayer of the psalmist are Psalms 60, 69, 74, and 88. 3 Father John Dalrymple, Simple Prayer (Wilmington, Delaware, 1984), p. 69. '~ lbid, p. 93. 5 Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dry (Notre Dame, Indiana, 1979), p. 119. 6 Fathers William Barry. and William Connolly, The Practice of Spiritual Direction (New York, 1982), p. 73. 7 Ibid. 8 Saint John of the Cross, The Collected Works of John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D. (Washington, D.C., 1979), pp. 620-634. 9 Father John Dalrymple, Simple Prayer, (Wilmington, Delaware, 1984), p. 66. ~0 Henri J. M. Nouwen, A Cry for Mercy: Prayers from the Genesee (Garden City, New York, 1983), p. 102. That God Might Be Father .Laurel M. O'Neal Sister Laurel O'Neal, a solitary (hermit), is familiar to our readers. Her address is Stillsong Hermitage; 80 Lafayette Circle; Lafayette, California 94549. Perhaps the only question more problematic than that of the possibility of prayer is the question of its, genuine significance and necessity. Sur-prisingly, however, this is also a question we generally fail to consider explicitly or face squarely. More typically, the meaningfulness and re-quisiteness of our prayer are matters we tend to take for granted, even though the notion of prayer may lie at the heart of important or even fun-damental expressi6ns of self-understanding and definition. But the ques-tion is an important one, and one we cannot easily afford to avoid or care-lessly dismiss, if we intend to take prayer seriously or maintain a proper sense of its place and role in our daily lives. After all, why really are we called to pray? What, if anything, is truly and uniquely at stake in our prayer? Is there any reason to regard our own personal prayer as a matter of compelling urgency and real ne-cessity, or is the matter really more nugatory? Clearly, as Christians we are called to believe that our prayer is a meaningful, even indispensable activity, vital to the transformation and healing of all we know, and the realization of all we are made and hope for. But how do we justify such a belief? What is it about prayer that makes such claims credible? The answers to all of these questions are based in our recognition that in prayer something deeper and even more fundamental is at stake, some-thing in which all healing and human growth in wisdom and sanctity are rooted, and upon which all our hope depends. Like Christianity in general, and like God himself, prayer is pro-foundly paradoxical, and this is particularly true of the question at hand. 685 Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Although we must acknowledge that prayer is the gift and activity of God attended to by sinners (that is, by persons whose lives are fundamentally marked and marred by fragmentation and alienation), we must also af-firm that the deeper truth is the paradox that prayer is primarily some-thing we undertake on God's own behalf, insofar as prayer is the experi-ence of God as the One he wishes to be for us. Quite simply, what is truly and uniquely at stake in our prayer, at each and every moment we pray, is nothing less than the life and destiny of God himself. As Chris-tians, as persons who pray--that is, as persons who share as heirs of God in the obedient Sonship of Jesus Christ, we do so primarily that God might truly be the Father he has willed to be from the beginning. This insight is easy to lose sight of, something that occurs particu-larly whenever God's paradoxical nature is obscured or forgotten, and an immutable or even (as commonly misunderstood) "triune" God is substituted for a Living One. Most of us are well aware that on the one hand, our God is the "High and Holy One," the one who reveals him-self in sovereignty and self-sufficiency. Indeed he is Yahweh, "the one who will be who (he) will be," ~ in absolute authority and awesome auton-omy. But this dominant Old Testament image is just one side of the para-dox whom we Christians know as God; and if on the one hand he is the High and Holy One who is absolutely self-sufficient, he is also the one who has determined not to remain so, but rather has resolved to make his own destiny subject to the responsiveness of his creation. Our God is on the one hand without beginning or end, absolutely self-sufficient, in need of no one and no thing. Yet on the other hand he has willed from all eternity not to remain alone but to turn to another--a person who will be his counterpart. He is the eternal decision to speak to this other and to hearken to the word which this other speaks. He is the eternal deci-sion to love this other and to accept this other's love. [The God of the New Testament] who is eternally self-sufficient wills not to be; God who is eternally of and for himself wills to be for another.2 This means quite simply that God has determined to be for us as well as dependent upon us. We must allow this determination to be realized, and let God be who he wills to be for us. This is indeed the most human thing we can do, just as it is the most loving. Those who truly appreci-ate that our own destiny is dependent upon the proper exercise of human freedom should not be surprised that God too is dependent upon it. In fact, we should be aware that the Christ event reveals that it is human freedom which is the true counterpart to divine omnipotence. For many, this will be an astounding assertion. However, if we reflect on precisely That God Might Be Father / 687 what occurred in the Christ event, perhaps this critical point will become more acceptable to most people. Certainly such reflection is necessary if we are to truly appreciate the importance and urgency of our prayer. It is true that in the Christ event--in the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus--God drew near to every moment and mood of his creation. This is truth but the truth cuts far more deeply than even this awesome reality. In the Christ event something absolutely s'ingular and unsurpassable occurred. For the first time in human history someone, in this case Jesus of Nazareth, in living a life wholly responsive to the God who would be Father, accomplished two things. In the first place, he lived the first genuinely human existence ever known in the history of humankind, and secondly, in his proper exercise of true human freedom he allowed God to become the Father he had willed to be from the be-ginhing. In the dialogue which existed between Father and Son, both hu-man and divine life reached a fullness for which they had yearned and groaned through time and eternity, the realization of human and divine destinies were forever linked, and divine omnipotence and human free-dom were inextricably wed as counterparts of one another. Nor is this all. In Jesus' resurrection from the dead, this abundant life was made a continuing and unconquerable reality in our world. It is in prayer that we enter most deeply into participation into this abundant life, and in prayer that Jesus' Sonship becomes our own and the Fatherhood of God is further realize~t. Through our participation in the Sonship of Jesus, we come to know genuine human life, and we become aware that it is a life characterized and constituted by an ongoing and all-consuming dialogue with the Fa-ther, who is in turn constituted as Father in this dialogue. In the Christ event Jesus responded to God as Son. He allowed God to be the author of his life, and he allowed God to be authored as Father in the process. Truly human existence is nothing less and nothing other than daughter-ship or sonship to the Living God whose own inner truth and dynamism is realized in Fatherhood. Prayer is simply and always the mutual out-working of these inextricably linked divine and human destinies. God is Father neither before, nor apart from, the response of Jesus as Son; neither is he our Father apart from our participation in that de-finitive Sonship which we call prayer. (Note well, in all of this it is im-portant that, according to the prologue to John's gospel, we are very clear that it is not the Logos that is Son; rather it is Jesus as Son in whom the Logos is incarnate. The two realities are quite different, and are often tragically confused. As the term is commonly but perhaps naively used, Review for Religious, September-October 1989 the Logos is "preexistent"; the Son is not, and whenever this confu-sion occurs, it becomes impossible to appreciate the true significance of the obedient Sonship of Jesus or of our own prayer.) Although he is the one "who will be who (he) will be," the God of the New Testament turns to the world as the one who would be Father, that is, as one who would find his counterpart and true completion in those who would turn in response as daughters and sons (that is, as those who are of him and from him) and, as one whose deepest identity would remain unrealized and unrealizable apart from this response. What are the implications of all this for our prayer? In the first place, we must concede that our prayer has real meaning and urgency, not only and not even primarily because we are saved through God's activity in our lives, but because in our prayer we concern ourselves with the very life of God. Whether or not prayer is a profound experience for Is, it is a significant experience for God since it is in prayer that he is allowed to achieve Fatherhood and truly realize himself. Whatever we perceive happening or not happening in our prayer, we must not lose sight of the fact of what does occur there. In prayer God is given the chance to love fully, and thus to fully be. It is not simply the'case that God is love; it is also true that in loving, God is (and it is this fact which allows us to speak of prayer in terms of the glorification or magnification of God). Prayer is possible only to the extent that our God has willed not to remain remote, that is, only to the extent that he has drawn near. But prayer is meaningful and necessary for the most part because the God who has refused to remain remote has also willed not to remain self-sufficient and has, in a very real way put his own destinyinto the hand of those to whom he would be Father, and whom he has thus willed re-spond to him as daughters and sons. Without our prayer, God remains the High and Holy One who has drawn near to us in all of life's moments and moods, but who remains deprived of real presence, and thus whose deepest will and identity remains unrealized and frustrated in our regard. It is particularly telling that the first word and entire Lord's Prayer is contained in the invocation "Father." Jesus' whole life and prayer, which were essentially synonymous, were devoted to allowing God's will to Fatherhood to be accomplished. Claiming this realization of the Fatherhood of God is the heart of all prayer. Allowing him to love us in the way he wills is the heart of all truly human activity. It is impor-tant that our prayer remain the God-centered activity it is meant to be. This is the reason Jesus gave his life and his way of praying as a "para-digm of perspective," and in fact, in what is most essentially and pro- That God Might Be Father 689 foundly the lesson of the New Testament, taught his followers to pray. We lose proper perspective if we forget that God has drawn near, but it is at least as tragic to forget that prayer is the way nearness is transformed into real presence. We said in an earlier essay3 that prayer begins, ends, and is sustained by our concern for and commitment to the life of God. Let us remember why we are present to him and what our appreciation of his nearness means for him, and may this knowledge sustain us in even the driest of moments. NOTES t The usual translation of "Yahweh" in Exodus 3:14 as "I am who am," or even the more cryptic "'I am" is inadequate insofar as it disregards the dynamic element, and promise of active and effective presence also contained in the Hebrew (see Ex 3:12). A better translation is "I will be who I will be". 2 Dwyer, John C., Son of Man attd Son of God, A New Language For Faith, (New York: Paulist Press, 1983). 3 O'Neal, Laurel M., "Prayer, Maintaining a Human Experience": R~.vl~.w R~.~.~¢~ous; Nov/Dec 1987, p. 883. Musing Fragile as a crisp autumn leaf, Hard as flint on flint, Soft as nestling down, Resilient as blue tempered steel-- You and I--this planet ours-- Cradled in God's tender arms Of Grace. Walter Bunofsky, S.V.D. 1446 E. Warne Avenue St. Louis, Missouri 63107 Mary of Bethany-- The Silent Contemplative Carlos M. de Melo, S.J. Father Carlos de Melo, S.J. is professor emeritus of Canon Law and Spiritual The-ology at the Pontfical Athenaeum of Pune, India. His address is Papal Seminary; Nagar Road; Ramwadi; Pune 411 014 India. Teresa of Avila, that incomparable mistress of the spiritual life--"Mater spiritualium" as she is called in the inscription at the foot of her statue at St. Peter's, Rome--was never tired of repeating to her daughters of the Reformed Carmel that prayer is not so much a matter of much think-ing as of loving much.~ The soul of prayer is faith and love. Going through the gospels ! found this basic truth or principle beautifully illus-trated in the attitudes of Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, vis-~t-vis our Lord. Bethany is a small hamlet about three kilometers southeast of Jerusa-lem, separated from the capital by the Mount of Olives. Mary of Bethany appears in five places in the gospel narratives: I) Luke 10:38-42; 2) John 11 : 1-53; 3) John ! 2: i - l l ; 4) Mark 14:3-9; and 5) Matthew 26:6-13. The last three references cover one and the same episode, that of the supper at Bethany, in the house of Simon, the "leper." True, the material is not over abundant, yet it is sufficient enough to give us a fair idea of the personality, the mind and heart, the ways and attitudes, the character of this well-known biblical figure. However, I wish to bring out in this es-say one particular trait that distinguishes her, and that is her contempla-tive attitude of life, as it comes across to us in a striking manner in two of those passages--Luke i0 and Matthew 26 (see Jn 12; Mk 14). Symbol of Contemplative . Indeed, in these passages, Mary stands out before us as a symbol and 690 Mary of Bethany / 69"1 teacher of the contemplative life particularly inspiring and helpful to per-sons "consecrated to God," whether they live in convents and monas-teries or elsewhere in the world. She thus becomes our guide, silent yet sure, to a simple, intimate relationship with our divine Master, such as will not only bring us true fulfillment but can even radically transform our life. For, as the saying goes, tell me with whom you walk and I shall tell you what sort of a person you are. When did Mary first meet Jesus? In Luke 10 the new Rabbi figures as an already familiar guest in the house of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, one whom they all highly esteemed, loved and revered, a dear friend whose visits were eagerly looked forward to and whom they welcomed with undisguised joy and profound satisfaction, as though they could never have enough of him. From him they held no secrets; they could share with him their every thought or sentiment, every joy or sorrow, and in him they were always sure to meet, in any life situation, under-standing, sympathy, guidance. First Meeting Decisive True, the gospels do not tell us when it was that Mary first met Je-sus. One thing, however, seems to be certain. Whatever might have been the time, place or occasion, that first meeiing was decisive in Mary's life; it made a lasting and ineffaceable impression on her youthful, sensitive nature. It reminds us of another such decisive encounter narrated in an-other gospel--that of the Master with the beloved disciple (Jn 1:35-39)-- one of those unforgettable events that make an impact for good and give a new turn to life. Like that of John, Mary's life, too, was deeply touched by her meeting with Jesus, for, from then on, that mysterious guest became as it were everything for her, the center of her thoughts, sentiments, deeds. It was as though interiorly taught from on high, Mary sensed in Jesus of Nazareth not only a new rabbi, or a great religious leader who taught as one having authority (Mt 7:29), who spoke as no man ever did (Jn 7:4-6), or even a worthy prophet like Moses, Isaias or Jeremias of old, but--in a way she herself was not able fully to under-stand or explain--the very incarnation of the Father of Israel, of Yah-weh himself, and at the same time, her own personal friend and guide-- her 'guruji' we might say, with all this term, and the reality it represents, means in Indian life and tradition. This explains Mary's unconditional surrender to him, her loving contemplation of him, her total openness and docility to his word, her silent "adoration"--attitudes proper to a creature before its God, its divine Lover. 692 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Lovable Character Mary is a lovable character--lovable because she is so

Issue 48.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1989. ; R F.vu-'.w FOR RF.uG~OUS (ISSN O034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. l_x~uis University by thc Mis-souri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Blvd., Rm. 428: St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 per year: $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail. add U.S. $5.00 per year: for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REviEw FO~ REt.~GOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to REVtEW ~'oa RE~ol~;totJS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors Jan./Feb. 1989 Volume 48 Number I Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:vtEw r'oa REU~aOUS; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Review for Religious Volume 48, 1989 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindeil Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors R~:vIEw FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, and November on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book t~e te~I Index. A microfilm edition of R~:v~Ew FOR RELIGOUS is available from University~ Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyrighl© 1989 by R~vmw FOR RELiGiOUS. A major portion of each issue of REvmw FOR RgL~G~OUS is als~o regu-larly available on cassette recordings as a service for the visuallyl' im-paired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 1 O010. PRISMS . Religious life today presents a varied landscape of images. Some would see the landscape more in the fading light of autumn colors or, perhaps, far more somberly in the gray bleakness of a barren wintertime. Others look out and observe a springtime of new growth, with tender fresh green shoots and small delicate blossoms just visible above the ground level. All the various ways we have of picturing religious life have some basis in reality. For there are various prisms through which we view all life, including religious life. Prisms are very important because they do provide a way for us to see, to highlight and to emphasize, to reject and to ignore. As others share their prisms of vision with us, we gain en-trance to worlds of different colors and new life. Of course, if we main-tain our vision only through our own prism, our world begins to take on a singleness of color and a frozen artificiality of life. REVIEW FOR REL~C~OUS, from its first January issue in 1942, has tried to provide various prisms through which we might view the whole worldscape which must be a part of a vibrant Christian spiritual life and so necessarily a part of religious life. As newly appointed editor of this journal, I intend the variety of insights into the consecrated lifeform, tra-ditionally called religious life, to remain an essential contribution of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. This contribution seems all the more necessary at our particular moment in the Church when often more time is spent in defining and establishing one's own position than in listening or learn-ing of another's. I do not want to wear out an image, but there is another important pointer for us in the kaleidos6ope. The prisms of a kaleidoscope only pro-duce their beauty because of their relationships, one to another. I find that the prisms through which we view life only present us with adequate truth, new life, and fresh ways ofacting if we maintain the relationship of various viewpoints. That is the great strength of the Church who pos-sesses various pictures of Jesus in her gospels, who allows differing phi-losophies and theologies to provide understanding to her faith, and who approves the charisms of vastly differing forms of religious life to be le-gitimate icons of Christ for all the Christian faithful and for the world. It is in the maintenance of relationship that we possess the criteria of le-gitimacy, continuity, and true creativity. 4 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 In our current issue, the usual variety of articles gives indication of the richness of interests which help form the context of religious life. In subsequent numbers I intend to take the opportunity to highlight one or other article because of the importance of its issue or the insight or un-derstanding it provides. Sometimes I would like to reflect more broadly about certain key concerns of religious life as it is being lived in our Churc,h and world today. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in this way will continue to provide prisms as well perspectives on the relationships of the many prisms that make up our religious lives. David L. Fleming, S.J. What Do You Want?m The Role of Desires in Prayer William A. Barry, S.J. A frequent contributor, Father Barry wrote "God's Love Is Not Utilitarian" for our issue of November/December 1987. His address is Jesuit Community: Boston Col-lege; Chestnut Hill, MA 02167. know: you're going to ask what I want. "As I was driving up to the retreat house, I thought of your perennial question: 'What do you want?' and here's what l~came up with." I have often noticed that peo-ple who see me for some time for spiritual direction or directed retreats say things like this. It even becomes a bit of humorous byplay, as though they want to beat me to the punch. Clearly, one of my favorite questions for directees is the one Jesus put to the two disciples who began to fol-low him: "What do you want?" (Jn 1:38). If directees pick up on this predilection and start asking themselves the question, then, I believe, a good deal of my work as spiritual director is done. If we know what we want in prayer, we are going to find our way. After a practical belief that God wants an intimate relationship with each one of us and that God is directly encountered in our experience, nothing is more important for the development of our relationship with God-~-for our prayer, in other words--than knowledge of what we want and of what God wants. In this article I want to discuss the role of desires in prayer. Anyone familiar with the Spiritual Exercises knows that among the preludes to every meditation or contemplation is: "I will ask God our Lord for what I want and desire." In the various stages or weeks of the Exercises, Ignatius states what the desire is in each case. For example, in the First Week I "ask for a growing and intense sorrow and tears for my sins," and in the Second Week I "ask .for an intimate knowledge 5 Review for Religious, January-February 1989 of our Lord, who has .become man for me, that I may love him more and follow him more closely." In an earlier article in the R~v~Ew, l tried to show that each of the desires of the Exercises is a desire for some par-ticular revelation by the Lord. ~ On the face of it, it looks as though Ignatius is saying: "Here is what you should desire at each stage of the Spiritual Exercises." One conclu-sion might be to take a person through the four Weeks and just put be-fore him or her what Ignatius gives as the desire. In fact, this has been the procedure in preached retreats, including the preached thirty-day re-treats we older Jesuits and other religious made in novitiate and tertian-ship. But what happened if, as a matter of fact, I did not really desire to know Jesus more intimately when the Second Week was presented to me. Suppose, for example, I was still too afraid of what he thinks of me. In most instan(es, I would guess, we just presumed that we had the de-sire if it was Second Week time. But I would contend that without the real desire we never got very intimate with Jesus. Indeed, I believe that "what we really desire" is diagnostic of the stage of the Exercises we are actually in. To demonstrate this thesis we need to look at the role of desires in any relationship. If you get a call from someone asking for a.meeting, is not your first question, at least to yourself, "What does she or he want?" In fact, many meetings between people come off badly because the individuals involved have mistaken ideas of what each other wants. For example, I want to become your friend, and you believe that I want help with home-work; you want to help me, but are not even thinking of a deeper friend-ship. At the end of the meeting both of us are going to be pretty frus-trated unless we talk about our different desires and come to some understanding. Often enough, too, relationships become frustrating be-cause of ambivalent or incompatible desires in one or both parties. For example, I want to get closer to you, but I am also afraid of you. Or I want a friendship with you (a happily married woman), but I also want to goto bed with you. Every intended encounter with another person is accompanied by a"desire or desires'. We are not always aware of our de-sires, but they are present, and they condition our behavior in the encoun-ter. Now suppose that I want to befriend you and you do not want my: friendship. Will my efforts :at befriending get me or you anywhere? Only to frustration and resentment, probably. But let us say that I persist in trying to do nice things for you. What will happen? You will probably get more and more irritated and thus less and less likely to become my Role of Desires in Prayer friend. And like many a "do-gooder" whose good deeds are rejected, I may eventually wash my hands of you and call you an ingrate who de-serves his fate. Friendship is possible only when the desires are mutual, when you freely desire my friendship and I freely desire yours. Friend-ship cannot be coerced. "But," someone may object, "we often do things that we don't want to do. Because of my friendship for you, for example, I will go to a movie I don't like." But what do you want? If it is because of friend-ship with me that you go to the movie, is not your deepest desire to please me or to be with me? The friendship is more important than the movie. I believe that the centrality of desire for the developing of a rela-tionship cannot be denied. Now let us look at the importance of desires for the relationship with the Lord. In the first chapter of John's gospel, the two disciples of John are intrigued by this Jesus whom John has just pointed out as the lamb of God. So they start following Jesus. When Jesus asks them what they want, they say, "Rabbi, where are you staying?" They do not yet have strong desires, it seems; curiosity seems to be the desire. Jesus does not disdain this desire. "Come," he replies, "and you will see." Unless we have some attraction toward God, some curiosity or hope or desire, we will not take the time to begin our side of the relationship. If I be-lieve in my heart and feelings that God is an ogre, ready to pounce on any infraction, then I may try to placate him, but I will never want to get close to him. And God, as it were, does handstands.to convince us that he really is benign, that he is, as Jesus asserted, Abba. The p.rofli-gate wonders of nature, our own creation and life, the words of Old and New Testaments, Jesus himself, and other loving, caring people in our lives--these are all signg of God's desire that we find him attractive and let him come close. But he cannot force himself on us, or will not. We must have some desire to get to know him better. Sebastian Moore af-firms that God's creative touch which desires us into being arouses in us a desire for "I know what," that is, a desire for the Mystery we call God.2 This experience (understood as the experience of one's creation and continued creation) can be seen as the affective principle and foun-dation for the development ofone's relationship with God. The desire for "I know what" is what makes' our hearts restless until they rest in God. Many people need help to recognize that they have such a desire. Be-cause of life's hurts they may not recognize any other desire but to be left alone, or not to be hurt any more. Telling such people that God is Review for Religious, January-February 1989 love has little or no effect. They may need help to admit to God that they are afraid of, him and desire to be less afraid. Indeed, they may need help to voice some of their anger at life's hurts which seem to them to have come from the Author of life. The fact that they have not completely turned away from religion indicates that they may still want something from God, even if only an acknowledgment that he knows what hap-pened to them in life. Like Job some may cry out: "Then know that God has wronged me and drawn his net around me. Though I c~'y, 'I've been wronged!' I get no response; though I call for help, there is no justice." Only after he has poured out his sorrows, seemingly, can he say: "I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth" (Jb ! 9:6-7.25). In other words, it may take a great deal of pas-toral care and patient spiritual direction for some people to come to the point where they can trust life and the Author of life enough to let into their consciousness the desire for "'I know what.'" Job's friends have tried to derail him from expressing his desires to God: In his misery he wants God to speak to him. He will not lie and say, as his friends insinuate,, that he deserves his calamities because of his sins. Hewill not accept the just-world hypothesis proposed by his friends according to which anyone's sufferings must be deserved. No, he knows~that he does not deserve the awful fate that has befallen him and desires to speak directly .to God and to hear God's answer. Often enough we Christians are like the friends of Job. To a mother who has just.lost her only child we might say, "God knows best." and thus make it difficult for her to voice her outrage at God and her need for God's own answer to this awful loss. Sometimes we feel that we have to de-fend God against the anger directed at him by people in pain. Yet the anger may be the most authentic way for a person to relate ~o God and to ex.press a desire to know God's response. Finally in chapters 38 through 41 God does answer Job out of the whirlwind. The response may not sound very comforting or apologetic to _us, but apparently Job is satisfied, for he says: "My ears had heard of you but.now, my eyes have seen you. Therefore I despise myself and repent in ~du.s.t and ashes." Moreover, then God speaks to Job's friends, "I am angry with you and your two friends, because yQu have not spo-ken of me what is~right, as my servant Job has" (Jb 42:5-7). Whatever else God's speech from the whirlwind means, it certainly does not mean that Jg~bohas lost God's friendship by voicing so strongly his desire to have God answer him. Another biblical instance of an attempt to derail a desire directed to- Role of Desires in Prayer ward God comes in the first chapter of the First Book of Samuel. Han-nah, one of the two wives of Elkanah, is barren and miserable. She wants a son. Her husband, seeing her weeping and fasting, says to her, "Han-nah, why are you weeping? Why don't you eat? Why are you down-hearted? Don't I mean more to you than ten sons?" In other words, Elka-nah wants Hannah to forget her desire and be satisfied with what she has. In the story we do not hear Hannah's reply, but her actions tell us that she is not put off by Elkanah's entreaties. She goes to the temple and "in bitterness of soul., wept much and prayed to the Lord." Indeed, when accused of drunkenness by Eli, the priest, she says, "Not so, my lord, I am a woman who is deeply troubled. I was pouring out my soul to the Lord." Hannah knows what she wants and is not afraid to tell God over and over what it is (I S 1:8, 10, 15). Often we tell ourselves or are told to quell our desires, to look at all the good we already have. We can be made to feel guilty and ungrateful for desiring what we want. But if we do suppress our desires without be-ing satisfied that God has heard us, then, in effect, we pull back from honesty with God. The result for our relationship with God often is po-lite distance or cool civility. Perhaps God cannot or will not grant what we want, but for the sake of the continued development of the relation-ship we need to keep letting him know our real desires until we are sat-isfi~ d or have heard or felt some response. In 2 Cbrinthians Paul says, "There was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to tor-ment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' " Now Paul could stop making known his desire because now he knew God's answer. "Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. :For when I am weak, then I am strong" (2 Co 12:7-10). Convictions such as Paul's come not from theological or spiritual nos-trums, but from the experienc~ of growing transparency between a Paul and the Lord. Too often we use the hard-won wisdom of a Paul to short-circuit a similar transparency in our own relationship with the Lord. A woman may, for example, be experiencing the "dark night of the soul" and not like it at all. Her desire may be for it to be removed. She may be helped by the knowledge that others have experienced the same thing before her and been the better for it, but such knowledge does not have to satisfy her desire to be rid of the "dark night." A short circuit in the Review for Religious, January-February 1989 relationship might occur if she is told by her spiritual director or tells her-self to squelch her desire "because the experience is good for you." What she needs to experience is God's response, not a theorem of spiri-tual theology. She needs to know (really, not notionally) that God does want this darkness for the good of their relationship. Such real knowl-edge comes only through mutual transparency. Most of the healing miracles of the New Testament depend on the desire of the recipient for healing.The example of the blind beggar Bar-timaeus (Mk 10:46-52) stands out, but is not unusual. "When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, 'Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.' Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, 'Son of David, have mercy on me.' " Obviously Bartimaeus will not be hindered from expressing his desire by any num-ber of voices trying to quiet him. These "voices" can come from within us as well as from without, by the way. "Jesus won't have time for the likes of me; other people have more important problems; things aren't so bad." These interior voices may be expressing our ambivalence about being healed. Just as Bartimaeus had made a way of life out of his blindness, so too we may have made our own physical or psychological or sPiritual limitations a way of life and be afraid of what a future without them might be. One person on a retreat thought that he desired healing from a kind of dark-ness that seemed to rule his life. But then he heard the Lord ask, "Do you want me to heal you of this?" and he had to admit that he was not sure. Interestingly, he felt that God approved the honesty of his response. The inner voices may also express our fear of arousing strong desires for healing only to have them dashed. "Suppose I really want to be healed and I hear the answer Paul got? What a disappointment!''3 Desires are complex and often contradictory. However, once we have allowed the ambivalence and complexity of our desires to surface, we have some-thing else to ask the Lord about. In the Bartimaeus story Jesus calls him over and asks, "What do you want me to do for you?" Bartimaeus is quite clear and unambi-valent, "Rabbi, I want to see." "Go," says Jesus, "your faith has healed you." I have italicized Jesus' words. Without the faith of Barti-maeus, apparently, this miracle could not have occurred. The miracle re-quires a. partnership between Jesus' healing power and desire to heal and Bartimaeus' faith and desire to be healed. Indeed, Bartimaeus' desire is his faith in action. An example may help to illustrate this point. Once I was filled with Role of Desires in Prayer anger and self-pity about the turn a friendship had taken and thought that I was praying for healing. I was contemplating the story of the two blind men in Matthew 9:27-30. When Jesus asked them, "Do you believe that I am able to do this?" I knew immediately that I was not ready to give up my self-pity and anger. If I did desire healing, it was with the same "but not yet" desire with which Augustine at one time desired chastity. I did not have the "faith" found in the two blind men and in Barti-maeus, a faith that showed itself in unambivalent desire. Another exam-ple that shows how desire is faith in action is provided by the father of the boy with the evil spirit reported in Mark 9: 14-29. Instead of asking directly for a healing, the father said to Jesus, "But if you can do any-thing, take pity on us and help us." Because he did not believe in Jesus' power to heal, he could not desire the hea!ing directly. "If you can?" said Jesus. "Everything is possible for him who believes." To which the father replied, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief." In effect the man is saying, "Help me to desire healing." This last example brings us close to the hub of why desires are the raw material out of which relationships are made. In order for the heal-ing to occur, there must be a meshing of desires. Bartimaeus's desire for healing meets Jesus' desire to heal; without both desires there is no rela-tionship, at least no mutual relationship. This point is beautifully illus-trated in the story of the leper. "A man with leprosy came to him and begged him on his knees, 'If you are. willing, you can make me clean.' Filled with compassion, Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. 'I am willing,' he said. 'Be clean!' Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cured" (Mk 1:40-42). Clearly desire meets desire. The kind of relationship Jesus desires is a mutual one', where desire meets desire. The need for a partnership of.desires becomes even clearer when we look at friendship. In John 15:15 Jesus says, "I have called you friends," and then goes on to indicate what that means from his side, "for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you." From his side the desire has been to be fully transparent, to com-municate to them all that he is. His desire meets their desire to know him as fully as possible. Of course, full mutuality of friendship means that they desire to be fully transparent before him and he desires to know them fully. Take away one side of these desires and there no longer is a mutual relationship. Of course, on the apostles' part (and on ours) the mere desire for mu-tual transparency does not carry it off. "Between the cup and the lip . " Our desires are ambivalent and complex; we are fearful crea- 12 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 tures, as well, and our fears get in the way of what we most deeply want. We need help and healing to grow toward mutual transparency with the Lord. But that help is available if we want it. If we notice, for example,, that we want to know Jesus better, but are afraid of the consequences, we can ask Jesus for help to overcome our fears. But again we notice that desire is the key to developing the relationship. The retreatant mentioned earlier who told God that he was not sure that he wanted healing of the darkness that ruled his life provides another example of the reciprocity of relationships. Later in the same day he be-came more sure that he wanted healing and asked the Lord to heal him. The Lord's response was perplexing; "I can't," he seemed to say. The retreatant was enraged at such a response when his own reluctance had been overcome, and he let God know in no uncertain terms. Yet still later in the day, out of the blue, as it were~ he heard the Lord say, "But we can." He knew immediately that the Lord meant that he could live more out of joy than sadness if he kept desiring the Lord's helpful presence rather 'than withdrawing into himself. "We can" meant partnership. At the beginning of this article, I stated that the real desires a person has are diagnostic of where the person is in terms of the four Weeks of the Exercises. Let me now return to that point. If retreatants do not have a real trust in God's loving care and providence, they will not desire that God reveal to them their sinfulness. Without an experienced-based be-lief in God's goodness and 16ve, without, in other words, what I have called earlier an affective principle and foundation, people are too fright-ened of God to be able to say and mean the last words of Psalm 139: "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting" (23-24). If there is no such real desire, then the First Week of the Exercises is not on. And, it seems, at this point God's desire is not so much to reveal sinfulness as to convince the person that he is "Abba." Similarly, if a retreatant voices the desire to know Jesus in or-der love him more and to follow him more closely, yet in his prayer con-tinually identifies with those who need healing, perhaps his real desire is to be healed. The desire of the Second Week to know Jesus shows it-self in an interest in Jesus himself, his values, his emotions, his dreams, his apostolate. If the retreatant is not really interested in these matters, but continually focuses on his own needs and weaknesses, then the Sec-ond Week is not. really in progress. Jesus himself may at this time desire more to heal than to call to companionship. The difference between the First and Third Weeks also comes down to a difference in desire. In the Role of Desires in Prayer First Week I desire to know that Jesus forgives me (and us), that he died for my (and our) sins; the focus is on desiring to have a deep experience of how much Jesus loved us even though he knew how sinful we were. The desire of the Third Week is more to share the passion with Jesus in-sofar as this is possible. The focus is on what Jesus felt and suffered, and the desire is that he reveal that to me. Retreat directors, I believe, do their most important work when they help their directees to discover what they do in reality want. And so every retreat could begin with a con-templation of Jesus as he turns and says, "What do you want?" As re-treatants hear these words and let them penetrate their hearts, they will come to know better what they desire; in other words, they will know better who they are at this time in their relationship with the Lord. NOTES ~ "On Asking God to Reveal Himself in Retreat," REVIEW FOR REI.IOWOUS 37 (1978): 171-176; reprinted in David L. Fleming (ed.), Notes on the Spiritual Exercises of St. ignatius of Loyola (St. Louis: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 1983), pp. 72-77. 2 Sebastian Moore, Let This Mind Be in You: The Quest for Identity Through Oedi-pus to Christ (Minneapolis: Winston-Seabury, 1985). 3 In another context I have discussed the courage of Bartimaeus. See "Surrender: Key To Wholeness," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 1987): 49-53. Perspectives on Parables and Prayer Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. Father Macdonald's most recent contribution to our journal was "A Pathway to God" (May/June 1988). His address continues to be: St. Joseph's; Wellington Road; Todmorden, Lancashire; 0L14 5HP England. A sister said that her annual retreat was less than satisfying because "the priest, who shall be nameless, seemed to spend a fair bit of time telling us how good he was. I nearly offered him a trumpet." My response was and is to wish that he could come for my annual retreat, if only to exer-cise my sense of humor, even though, as I suspect, he may be speaking tongue in cheek. If not, so much the better! This is not meant to be flip-pant, for it seems to me in recent years that retreats and such like are becoming more technical, esoteric, and managed. So often there has to be a title with content specified, ra~nging from privately directed to Bet- .ter World and charismatic, by way of the Spiritual Exercises, Inigo, Sadhana, Progoff, Zen, Yoga, and so much else; it seems a prudent step, therefore, to first inquire before one enters. The seeker for silence and stillness, for example, is likely to find an all-action organized retreat not a little off-putting. But it all seems so terribly earnest, with little humor. A retreat is undeniably important when seen as a chance for inspira-tion, encouragement, and vision, particularly if the opportunity comes only once a year. It is important that the Gospel is preached; arguably, over the years, some vocations may have gone by default, even among those who die as religious, inasmuch as the Good News, as the New Tes-tament would understand it, might not have been heard. It is sometimes asking much of a preacher during a retreat to try and shore up a creaking building on the verge of collapse when the day-by-day support has not been given. But what seems to happen today is a grasping for technique 14 On Parables and Prayer which is expected to provide the key to the Gospel. The search for the philosopher's stone is endemic. This, of course, may not be quite fair to someone who senses per-haps that "Thou [God] hast made us for thyself and our hearts are rest-less till they rest in thee" (Confessions 1:1).~ But expectation is not God, nor is disappointment nor, indeed, sat-isfaction. To set one's all on technique or the competence of the preacher or the receptivity of the audience is to risk losing everything. Humor will spare us that and much else. The late John Main, O.S.B., told a friend, a Ramakrishnan monk, who had asked him how he proposed to teach meditation, "Sit down, sit erect, say the mantra, and that's it.''2 His friend said that such an approach would never work with Westerners. It is so simple they will not believe you. His advice was to deliberately com-plicate it, saying you have esoteric knowledge which you can give only after they have been coming for at least ten weeks. Only then can t.hey be initiated. Throw in the name John Cassian for good measure. That should attract them. This raises a smile, as it is so close to reality as some of us observe it. A Greek Orthodox priest spoke similarly of students coming to his monastery asking to be initiated into the Jesus Prayer. "Say it." "But. ? . No, just say it." As you advance you need guidance. It is all rather deflating, for someone seeking the heights, to be told to begin at the beginning. It will be recalled that Peter L. Berger identified humor as one of his "signals of transcendence," a marvelous way out from all which might tend to dominate and frighten us in a seemingly locked-in world. It is crucial for perspective. "Laughter can show that power is ultimately' an illusion because it canno( transcend the limits of the empirical world. Laughter can--and does every time it relativizes the seemingly rocklike necessities of this world.''3 There is such a thing as gallows humor. Laughter can be a link with the divine and all that is, not just all that is here. How could a preacher or a community ever take themselves wholly seriously again after hearing this little story about a retreat director? He impressed a community as an obviously saintly man. His reputation grew as the week progressed--until he asked for meat on Friday. No saint would ever do that! On such are reputations built and lost. Favorite humorous authors such as P. G. Wodehouse or James Thurber can provide permanent links to God and reality. Once in their friendly and familiar company, we find space to simply relax and enjoy ourselves. We smile at Walter Mitty as we see ourselves in him. Our prob- 16 / Review for Religious,'January-February 1989 lems lessen in the face of what some of the Wodehouse characters have to meet. A Sergeant Bilko on black-and-white television can do as much. Holding on to the relative like this may help us see that there is always another chance--and if the Go.spei is to be believed, the time is now. I am far from underplaying the need for a properly prepared retreat or suggesting that one can laugh off whatever happens. Nor would I dis-count the value of any particular technique or approach. I would but say that everything here is relative and humor can help us see it. Father Enomiya-Lassalle once gave a day's Zen retreat to forty Korean novices, whose reaction was that "Up to now we used to have a scriptural text in our daily meditation to meditate on. Today for the first time we have felt that to meditate is to pray."4 One is grateful;for the sisters' experi. ence, but even if the priest had neve.r set foot in Korea, the providence of God would not have neglected them. Everything then can help, but nothing is essential. When the retreat .disappoints, all need not be lost. This is particularly so for those who know how to interpret their life in terms of Scripture. A fairly comprehensive experience convinces me that few can. If there is one cause of failure both in preacher and audience, it lies in the inability to do that. I would be astonished if novices knew how to do it, and very surprised to find it in the great majority of their senior brothers and sisters. One simple test is to listen for the Gospel when religious speak of what is happening to them and how they see it. The Gospel is the common coin of the Catholic Church, but many use it gingerly like a foreign currency. They do not know its value, or what to do with it. Authentic Sources 'Religious have been authoritatively urged that to genuinely live their calling they should draw "on the authentic sources of Christian spiritu-ality., in the first place they should take the Sacred Scriptures in hand each day" (Perfectae Caritatis, no. 6). Here faith and life are meshed as one. What a Jewish commentator, W. G. Plaut, said of the Torah, the Christian can wholeheartedly endorse for Scripture in its.entirety. "We hold that the Torah is a record of Israel's striving to meet God and un-derstand his will. In centuries of search, of finding and forgetting, of in-spiration and desperation, God touched the soul of his people and the sparks of these meetings burn in the pages of the Torah.' ,5 The "sparks of these meetings" are found in the pages of Scripture, and once prop-erly kindled they produce an enduring, not fitful, flame. In each meet-ing with God, which really means now, the religious by profession would wish his or her mind to be at one with the will of God, faith and life re- On Parables and Prayer flecting the one reality: "That man is Your best servant who is not so much concerned to hear from You what he wills as to will what he hears from You"(Confessions 10:26). That distinction is crucial, and none knew better than Augustine how hard it was to really make the transi-tion. All of us are innately self-centered, easily deceived. It is, then, prac-tical to go to the authentic sources of the Church's tradition, where "in the centuries of search, of finding and forgetting. God touched the soul of his people." Even Augustine intuitively seems to have felt this in his search for God. "I absolutely refused to entrust the care of my sick soul to the philosophers, because they were without the saving name of Christ. and whatever lacked that name, no matter how learned and excellently written and true, could not win me wholly" (Confessions 5: 14; 3:4). So while the attraction for God in Christ and authenticity was there, Augustine could not at first bring himself to find this, least of all in Scripture. He tells us honestly why: "So I resolved to make some study of the Sacred Scriptures and find what kind of books they were . My conceit was repelled by their simplicity, and I had not the mind to penetrate into their depths" (Confessions 3:5). He lacked "sincerity, openness of mind and that fundamental rev-erence which is a willingness to be commanded" which one who went deeper than most saw as minimum requirements before the Bible can do anything for a person.6 It is so hard to change one's mind radically, and that lovely quality of fundamental reverence before Scripture Js rarely found, especially in those who like to do things their own way--which means all of us, but for the grace of God. ~ Augustine was later to envy the Church's faithful whom he had once patronized as ignorant and unlettered. Once he himself had discovered the treasure which they so nonchalantly possessed, how his perspective changed: "Of what great harm to Your little ones was their far slower intelligence: since they strayed not far from You and so could fledge their wings in safety in the nest of Your Church, and nourish the wings of char-ity with the food of solid faith?" (Confessions 4:16). In thus moving from inauthentic to authentic existence as he saw it, he now realized that his "superior" stance was only that of the man with the empty stomach who does not know where to find food, in his case, "the food of solid faith." The search, tension, and struggle are perhaps heroic and the stakes are life or death, but nothing is gained by patronizing those who sit down each day at a full table. He finally knocked at their door and asked to come in and share what they had. Again his perspective changed: "It is with utter certainty that I love You. You have stricken Review for Religious, January-February 1989 my heart with Your word and I have loved You" (Confessions 10:6). It is well known that an appar.ently chance reading of Romans 13 and 14 finally enabled Augustine to see. Now from within the heart of the Church he is convinced that "Thou [God] didn't touch me, and I have burned for thy peace" (Confessions 10:27). This is not notional knowl-edge enabling him to speak to his intellectual peers, but the real insight given him by the word of God from within the Church enabling him to see faith and life as one. The sparks of the earlier meetings with God are now aflame in re-sponse to his word. His life and perspective are transfigured. It is per-haps not without its underlying humor to see this gifted man, with many of the gli~tering prizes within his grasp, now held enthralled by the faith of his mother and her nurse (see Confessions 9:8). He had traveled for miles and years searching for what he had left at home. If religious had this innate feeling of fundamental reverence before Scripture, always subordinating themselves to the word, never dominat-ing it, they might more easily warm to the sparks of the meetings with God in their own daily life, and so find a flame which they could never leave. Even among the trumpet calls of a preacher's self-proclaimed ex-cellence, the word of God isthere if one knows how to listen, but it is unlikely to be heard unless one is habitually doing this. That perspec-tive is all-important. A practical illustration may perhaps make the point. A Treasure Found Parables form much of the Gospel, and few strike a cord with the religious vocation more than "the kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field" (Mt 13:44). Taken from life, it is meant to make us think. What is being said here? We under-stand what is being said, of course, but we are meant to assimilate its implications. Its dynamic is as powerful as Christ is real. Insofar as I be-lieve that God in Christ is here speaking to me, I shall respond and so attempt to make the Gospel my own. In fact, that parable, for many, is little more than an interesting analogy. It is a helpful example, an exter-nal, verbal, and indeed visual aid, as useful in the junior school as in the religious community. Precisely because that may not unfairly be de-scribed as the most usual understanding of the parable, the true perspec-tive is little known, and so those words scarcely ever spark into a flame. If that is compared with the approach to parables of T. W. Manson in a fine book first published over fifty years ago and often reprinted, we will find ourselves in another world where the sparks of the meeting On Parables and Prayer between Christ and ourselves can really catch fire. He says: Jesus is not concerned to demonstrate that God exists but rather to show the nature of the God whose existence is common ground for him and his audience. His aim is not to make God an article of faith but the ob-ject of faith. We are often concerned to make God probable to man; .he set out to make God real to them. It is this fact which makes parable the inevitable form in which the teaching of Jesus on the nature and ways of God should be delivered . The true parable., is not an illus-tration to help one through a theological discussion. It belongs to the same order of things as altar and sacrifice and prayer, the prophetic vi-sion and the like . It is a way in which religious faith is attained, and, as far as it can be, transmitted from one person to another. It is not a crutch for limping intellects but a spur to religious insight. Its object is not to provide simple theological instruction but to produce living re-ligious faith.7 This is Scripture seen from the inside. How many readers of this page honestly think like that? If religious habitually think in those terms, it seems to me that they keep it well hidden. Could the average reader echo, from experience, all that Manson sees--parable, the obvious teach-ing medium to make God real . . . a mode of religious experience on the same plane as altar, sacrifice, prayer, and insight., a way in which faith is attained, not a crutch for limping intellects., producing living religious faith? The easiest way to answer such questions is to ask: What did we feel when the parable was first quoted--' 'the kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field."? If Manson was articulating what we have long known and felt, the resonances first produced by the par-able will still be there on the level of faith, not necessarily feeling. His comment would then simply buttress what we know to be true. Is our faith like a treasure found? Is this what has brought us to religious life? Is it a superb insight into reality? Is any sacrifice worthwhile to really possess it? What do we give in view of what we ~et? Can this treasure in any sense be found through the medium of an imperfect preacher? Do these words hold us up as they obviously show us up? One has to ask questions and link details together for the purposes of writing, but if the parable is properly assimilated to any degree, it is better to be silent and still and let the image absorb us and lead us where it will. We are then on the level of altar, sacrifice, prayer, and insight, willingly or even grudgingly, in view of the demands, letting ourselves be drawn into God through his Word. Perspectives that we perhaps know notionally are opened up to limitless horizons. Faith, not feeling, is seek- 20 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 ing to really understand. For years we have known the parable by heart. Have our hearts ever got the point and made it our own? Only silence and wonder stemming from fundamental reverence will do that. Fundamental Reverence For some years now virtually all religious communities have the for-mal daily prayer of the Church as their morning and evening prayer. In-variably, individuals or groups are given charge of liturgy and prayer, which generally means that coming to daily prayer one has to first find out what has been rearranged. Pages have to be marked, hymns noted, and alternative readings attended to. The pattern is rarely predictable. All this is done, one hears, because the community wants it, for the ordi-nary daily office is boring and repetitive. This constant adaptation is then seen as a practical attempt to engage the community in really meaning-ful prayer. In view of what has already been said, much of this suggests that those who foster or want this, apart from the risk of choosing only what-ever has personal appeal, may have no real feeling for Scripture, which may be why continual rearrangement is felt to be necessary to hold at-tention. This is, of course, the technique of the junior school, .where the children's attention span is limited and meaning has to be immediate. Yet if one receives~a line, phrase, sentence, or sentiment of Scripture on the level of altar, sacrifice, prayer, or insight, one just cannot keep chang-ing the focus without fragmenting the reality. Even to move, pick up a hymnbook, attend to alternative prayer or reading, or in general to be .never quite sure what is happening next, can be to break concentration. There may be some gain in alertness but, arguably, loss in continu-ity and assimilation. The Psalms and readings from the daily office have not yet been heard for the first time as Augustine, Manson, the Jewish commentator Plaut, and others would understand it, and will never be if one constantly changes the focus of attention in terms of relevance. One is all the time being brought up to the surface, never left long enough to go down to the depths. Ideally, the Psalms and readings could be so predictable that one almost knows them without turning the page. Only then do they have a chance of becoming part of ourselves so that we can truly listen, not just hear. Fundamental reverence would ask no less. But, however well intentioned, when one has to scan the board for the next item on .the agenda of prayer, or wait for the inspiration of a colleague, one is perhaps paying too high a price for spontaneity. The seemingly prosaic parable as a "spur to religious insight" must be in-vited to speak, not ordered to. On Parables and Prayer When Scripture is approached like this in the context of prayer, what one hears matters little. In time, perhaps less and less comes to mean more and more. It has not been and cannot be quite assimilated. Occa-sionally its relevance may be all too clear, as when, on the morning fol-lowing news of the horrific deaths of the seven astronauts in January 1986, one read: "Naked I came from my mother's womb, naked I shall return. The Lord gave, the Lord has taken back. Blessed be the name of the Lord. If we take happiness from God's hand, must we not take sorrow too?" (Jb 1:21, 2:10). Even if the words appear as dull as a school textbook, it does not matter. Nor does immediacy or surface mood. On the level of prayer, altar, sacrifice, and insight, it is one's faith responding to God that makes the connection. In time the words will peel away and matter less and less as one is held in faith, just as a smile or wave from a friend has a mean-ing out of all proportion to the action. It is a perspective on reality for which one is grateful. NOTES t The Confessions of St. Augustine, translated by F. J. Sheed (London: Sheed and Ward 1944). All references to The Confessions are from here. 2 John Main, O.S.B., "Christian Meditation," The Grail, 1978, p. 19. 3.Peter L. Berger, A Rumor of Angels (Penguin Books, 1971), p. 91. 4 The Tablet, London, January I 1, 1986, pp. 31-32. 5 The Torah, W. G. Plaut and B. J. Bamberger (New York: Union of American He-brew Congregation, 198 I), p. 1294. 6 C. H. Dodd, The Authority of the Bible [1929] (Fontana Paperback, 1962), p. 269. 7 T. W. Manson. The Teaching of Jesus (CUP, 1931; paperback, 1963), pp. 72-73. The Gift of Not Giving Jane Kammer C.S.Bo In our issue of January/February 1983, we published Sister Jane's "Three Times I Asked: Reflections on Weakness." She is a pastoral associate at St. Benedict Church in San Antonio. She may be addressed at 5107 Ozark; San Antonio, Texas 7820 I. So Jesus said to them, 'Well, then, pay to the Emperor what belongs to the Emperor and pay to God what belongs to God ' (Mt 22:21). "Jesus exclaimed, 'You ask me for a miracle? No! The only mir-acle you will be given is the miracle of the prophet Jonah' " (Mt 12:39). "As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had had the de-mons begged him, 'Let me go with you!' But Jesus would not let him"(Mk 5:18-19). A popular Christian saying and song is "God loves a cheerful giver." Giving has been exalted as a hallmark of Christianity, and so it is. Didn't our leader, Jesus, give his very life to show us God's great love? Giving has also been extolled as the virtue of the ideal Christian woman. For most of her life, my mother gave. She waited on my father; she gave of herself for her children. For all but the last few years of her life, I never heard her say no to anyone who asked a favor. But after she had grieved over my father's death, a change took place in my mother. At sixty-two she learned to drive a car; she went on vacations; she joined groups and clubs; and she began to say no to requests she really did not want to fulfill. She had discovered another dimension of giving. Giving is not always healthy for the giver or for the receiver. It is not true respect when I continually do for another what the person can do for him/herself. I am beginning to learn the gift of not giving. Teilhard de Chardin said, "Your essential duty and desire is to be 22 The Gift of Not Giving united with God. But in order to be united you must first of all be --be yourself as completely as possible. And so you must develop yourself and take possession of the world in order to be. Once this has been ac-complished, then is the time to think about renunciation; then is the time to accept diminishment for the sake of being in another. Such is the sole and twofold precept of complete Christian asceticism" (The Divine Mi-lieu [New York: Harper and Row, 1960], pp. 70-71). I believe that part of developing myself is learning, through practice, the gift of not giving to everyone who seems to ask. If I continually place my focus on others, then I cannot really give myself in love to them, for I do not have a self to give. It is my task to discover and develop the unique person God intends for me to be. I am codependent. To me that means I tend to place my center out-side of myself. I am inclined to seek affirmation and validation from some-one else. I feel safest when giving, not receiving. I am a people pleaser who fears rejection. Taking things personally and blaming myself for whatever seems less than perfect are aspects of my codependence. I have lived with many "shoulds" from the past which I have interiorized. In many ways my life repeats the story of my mother. But it is not too late to refocus my center within myself. I can learn to allow the true "me" to emerge from within. In time I can become a self-validating, self-affirming person whose peace is permanent and whose happiness does not depend on the mood of another. If I stay with myself, I can learn to love and accept myself as I am, even while want-ing to change some things about myself. I can give myself the gift of not giving up on the real, beautiful, and exciting "me." Moreover, I can learn to give the gift to others of responsibility for themselves. By re-fusing to absorb and carry the emotions of others, I will gift them with the faith that they are capable of living their own lives, making their own decisions, and caring for themselves. One morning I attended a meeting of four people who work in the same field. One of the workers continually griped and complained. Ne-gativity flowed out of her every word and facial expression. At the end of the session, I felt depressed, oppressed, and.burdened. I had absorbed into myself the flow of her negativity. But I can give myself the gift of not taking responsibility for other people's feelings, for others' pleasant or unpleasant feelings. I can maintain my joy, peace, and positive out-look if I am aware of my tendencies and if I give myself the gift of not giving in to codependence. I can learn to trust other people to run their own lives. I can deepen my trust in God. Review for Religious, January-February 1989 As codependent I also try to control others, though I may not be aware that I am doing so. I have not seen my friend for quite a while. I miss him or her. I may long with emotional intensity to see and be with my friend again. This is all right; this is me~ I fall into codependence, however, when I expect my friend to feel the same emotions that I do, the same strong loneliness. Because he/she feels differently does not mean that we are no longer friends. We are still connected by the bonds of love and the union of our spirits, but my friend is entitled to his/her own emotional swings. Occasionally we may both experience the same feelings, but that just happens; it cannot be programmed. By giving the gift of not giving my friend the task of living up to my expectations, I free him/her to be a unique self, and I free myself from the frustration of unmet expectations. As I grow, I learn the gift of n6t giving allegiance to everything that is said about,~me, even when it is said by significant others in my life. Opefiness to consider feedback is good and necessary for growth, but I can take the comments offered, test them sincerely against what I know of my true self, and decide to allow them to influence me or reject them as not fitting. More and more I stand free: receptive but able to make choices and.changes for myself. Each of us operates out of a specific personality type. I know that those "unacceptable" aspec.ts of myself, my "shadow," can become for me sources of undreamt growth and expansion. If I am introverted, recognition' of the shadow invites me to promote the development of more assertiveness, more sociability. By taking up the challenge of my "opposites," I give myself the gift of not giving in and becoming com-pletely immersed in my dominant qualities. I also give to others the gift of my expanded personality., my versatility to be reflective and quiet, and to be spontaneous and outgoing. I then realize that I have the potential to grow in all qualities of personality. Giving the gift of not giving can be risky. This is especially so if one is looked upon as a professional "helper." 1 am supposed to rescue peo-ple, or so it is often assumed. But the divine in me nudges me to grow and to foster my own "undependence" so that I do not need to rescue in order to feel worthy or worthwhile. I can then rejoice with the other in his/her efforts that lead to confidence, success, self-esteem, and de-victimization. When I encourage the other to look within her/himself for the indwell-ing God, the source of strength and goodness, then the other's success in dealing with difficulties is truly authentic and lasting. I become, not The Gift of Not Giving a rescuer or savior, but a real companion and friend. Recently a friend said to me, "I am upset over certain events that have taken place lately. I feel I can share with you about those situations because you are concerned and will give your support and prayers, but you won't take on my problems and become as upset as I am, and so be-come an added problem and burden to me. And you won't smother me with sympathy either." I consider those remarks a confirmation of the rightness of the gift of not giving and an uncovering of the true meaning of compassion. Jesus gave the gift of not giving. He refused to give direct answers to the Pharisees who were trying to trap him. He did not allow them to control him or his mission. Jesus did not perform miracles for those un-believers. He refused to compromise himself in order to please them. He did not even accept the adoration of the man who was cleansed from evil. Jesus will not allow us to follow him out of coercion or ignorahce. We must make up our own minds. He gave us the gift of not giving easy answers; he taught in parables. Jesus leaves us free and invites us to re- .sponsible living and loving. He refuses to take on our responsibility for ourselves and our world even though we often try to put on him th~ blame for our misfortunes and our mistakes. o Christ's peace was from within. He was "self-centered," anchored in the depths of his love springing from deep within. We too are chal-lenged to anchor in the gift of self that we find within, put there by God. One way to self is through the gift of not giving. Chapters and Structures William F. Hogan, C.S.C. Father Hogan wrote "The Cross Reconsidered" for our issue of March/April ! 988. His address remains: Fratelli Cristiani; Via della Maglianelli, 375; 00166 Roma, It-aly. Postconstitution chapters in most congregations take a very different form from those in which much labor was directed to working out, concept by concept, word by word, texts of constitutions to be submitted for ec-clesiastical approval. If there was perplexity in some institutes as to what a chapter would do when there were no more constitutions to write, the wonderment soon dissolved as attention was focused on the principal calls of the times: justice, peace, preferential option for the poor, sim-plification of lifestyle, apostolic spirituality, and so forth. Less legisla-tion emerged from the chapters; the accent was on setting immediate goals for administrations and planning steps for implementation of di-rection by the community: simple documents of challenge for reflection, inspiration, action. A variety of formulas, techniques, and approaches have been used to provoke a deep listening to the Spirit during sessions and to share the chapter's reflections and concerns with the larger con-gregation. Our times have seen much effort and creativity to make chap-ters meaningful experiences, and more will be needed in the future be-cause there is no magical formula that can cover every set of concerns or apply to all chapter circumstances. The uniqueness of each chapter will demand an approach suitable to its particularity: what works for one may very well not be beneficial to another. The experience of many congregations would advocate that it is not necessary for chapters to go over every element of the life of a congre-gation, as ordinarily done in the past, because there are so many other 26 Chapters and Structures participative structures in place between chapters. More effective results emerge when one topic is pursued in depth and the congregation's ef-forts are channeled in a particular direction. At the same time it is im-portant that a chapter and other community organs related to a chapter devote some attention to important points other than the principal topic. The 1983 code of Canon Law determines a number of issues to be treated in the particular law of religious congregations, and these fall under the responsibility of a general chapter. Most of these matters have been leg-islated in the constitutions; there is widespread reluctance to touch them after experiencing the difficulties of having constitutions approved, even when a group intellectually acknowledges the need for modifications. Oth-ers are taken up in the secondary book and should be reviewed by the chapter, even though its primary thrust is not concerned with the particu-lar law as such. There are ways of accomplishing this so as not to dis-tract from the major chapter consideration--for example, through the use of an ad hoc committee reviewing the legislation and making recommen-dations to the assembly. Without this review there is always the possi~ bility of a gap developing between living and the calls of the Spirit to move forward in mission. One of the most basic areas not to be overlooked is that of the struc-tures of government, where there are many questions deserving ongoing congideration even though structures are usually treated in the constitu-tions and considered of more permanent nature than rfiatters'of the sec-ondary book. Frequently the particular law of a congregation will state that structures are for the mission:, that the participation of the institute in the continuing mission of Jesus is the determining factor for structures of authority and government and the division of a congregation into life-promoting and mission-serving units. It .is far too easy to let the concept of structures for mission become a dead letter, since the mission is not staticbut constantly undergoing variables. Reflective vigilance is needed to take into account the changing factors of the mission of Jesus today and be at the service of the mission in fact and not just in word. This is especially true in international congregations with their divi-sions into provinces, regions, sectors, and so forth, but finds application also'in national and diocesan groups. Religious institutes are experienc-ing decreases in some of their internal divisions because of aging, loss of members, and other factors with the result that some previously sta-ble units no longer appear capable of maintaining the autonomy neces-saryto function as a unit in the same way. In not a few instances there is occurring a reversal of what have up to this point been geographical Review for Religious, January-February 1989 central and peripheral areas in congregations; then, too, there often is dis-persion of individuals and communities, along with new forms of com-munity. New foundations in third-world countries being made by differ-ent provinces of the same congregation point to a need for a networking among them to provide for sharing of experiences and insights, even if situations are not yet sufficiently clear to establish more permanent struc-tures. And surely, sufficient reflection on the units of a congregation will give rise to other situations in need of monitoring. Canon law and practice leaves the regulation of internal divisions to the individual institute and the authority therein determined, as long as the basic points of the approved constitutions are followed. These latter often allow for more flexibility than seems apparent at first glance; where there may be lacking the necessary suppleness, recourse should be had to the appropriate Church authority. A desire for survival may force the issue of restructuring in some congregations rather than a more overt con-cern that structures serve the mission; whatever be the motivation in fact, watchfulness is called for and the occasion of a chapter provides an op-portunity to exercise a healthy vigilance. Reflection on structures is not meant to pull religious in on them-selves, but outwards to furthering the work of Christ and promoting the qualitative dimension of ministry, life, and contribution to the local Church--lest there be a discrepancy between what we say of ourselves in principle and the reality of what we live. Connected with this reflec-tion is the issue of identity and charism, in the sense that the question at times arises whether to bolster the presence of the congregation in one part of the world through bringing new members from countries where vocations are still in abundance or simply to let the presence eventually fade out of existence. The tendency is to give an answer in terms of the works the religious are doing and whether the apostolates should be con-tinued; yet there is a deeper element than simply the works: Are the re-ligious bringing anything different in terms of witness to the local Church that others cannot effect? Not just a question of doing, but the reality of being: How are we in wha~ we do? No simple answers can be given to this; much soul-searching about the identity to which we witness is en-tailed. And if there is nothing .particular being shared with the local Church in terms of charism, it may be that the Spirit is saying that the congregation's presence is no longer gifting the local Christian commu-nity. A number of other matters concerning authority structures deserve periodic consideration, such as terms of office, interimsbetween chap- Chapters and Structures / 29 ters, and whether chapters are the only or best vehicles to accomplish the promotion of the mission and life. Many congregations have gone through a number of changes during the last two decades concerning the duration of offices because of concern with people being in positions too long, the need for freshness of vision in monitoring change and the cur-rents of the times, and the promotion of participation and development of individuals' gifts and talents. Sometimes in addressing one set of val-ues and making decisions in accord with them, experience shows that other values suffer and perhaps there is conflict in trying to integrate all the facets. Thus some congregations have gone full circle and returned to their original terms of office after various experiments; others have opted for a longer nonrenewable mandate; and still others have deter-mined upon several shorter terms. It would be idealistic to think that the workable formula reached for the present should not be open for recon-sideration if changing circumstances would indicate the need for another solution. Frequently religious Speak of the amount of energy that is expended in preparing chapters and implementing their decisions and orientations; also of the insufficiency of time between chapters for a congregation to realize the implications of chapter decisions before being moved on as a group to other subject matters. The frustrations sometimes expressed in this regard, in conjunction with fatigue over the number of meetings in which religious at times have to participate on different levels, raise the issue of whether there are other ways to accomplish the goals with-out the mechanism of chapters so regularly and all that is entailed therein, and still preserve and foster the principles of members working together toward policies of life and mission. Creativity of thought is needed here to safeguard the values intended by the structure of chapter and at the same time to prevent excessive use of energy that could be more directly channeled toward mission. Further, it might prove opportune from time to time to reflect on some of the points brought over into religious structures from corpora-tion models to assure the rights of individuals and promote participation. Some were needed to correct abuses or remedy problem areas at a par-ticular time. Are they still needed? Has something been lost from the com-munity- of-faith dimension while stressing organizational approaches? Where is the congregation now in the balance of values? Some benefi-cial insights could be gained by a congregation relative to structures for mission from treating these and similar questions. Not to be overlooked either would be the number of people involved :30 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 in community administration full time: too few? too many? enough for the needs of mission on the part of the congregation? How do we under-stand these needs now, taking into account the concept of community for mission and the need for good government and sufficiently broad-based decision making? The answer given at one time will apply only as long as circumstances remain basically the same: hence the need for periodic review. To look at some of these issues of structure from the viewpoint of service of the mission and the community's growth for mission may ap-pe. ar as an invitation to furiher instability in religious life; perhaps it would involve furthe~r unsettling, but in terms--hopefully--of the unset-tling aspe~zts of Jesus' message and mission a~d of the mentaJity of foun-ders and foundresses. Their primary passion, in following Jesus,,was to reveal the Father's love and assist others to experience it in their lives; institutionalization of religious life and structures as such generally arose after the founders' times. Stability of life is an important aspect of relig-ious life; it is expressed in the Church's definitions of consecrated life (see can. 573,1). However, stability must not be equated with no change, especially when the mission that gives meaning to the consecrated life demands change. Stability demands serious prayerful reflection on the whole issue of change, keeping our vision focused 'on the person of Je-sus arid his mission today. And while we concentrate our ,energies and attention on the great sweeping calls of the Spirit of Jesus as reiterated through the Church, we must also keep alert to whether internal struc-tures are enabling for response to mission. Meta-Expectations and the General Chapter J. Roberta Rivello, S.S.J. Sister J. Roberta Rivello is a Sister of Saint Joseph of Philadelphia. She is currently Dean of Graduate Studies Division at Chestnut Hill College in Philadelphia; prior to that she was research analyst for the Department of Army where she worked for the past seven years. This paper is about the difference between expectations reasonably held and "meta-expectations," and what happens when "meta-expecta-tions" are part of the agenda for a general chapter in religious institutes. Having to deal with these meta-expectations in the general chapter may be a part of the reason why so many religious institutes find themselves, in the years immediately following a general chapter, in the midst of a good deal of frustration, anger, even~outright rejection of some of the mandates of the general chapter. I believe this occurs because many of the expectatio.ns explicitly ex-pressed by the members of an institute are clearly not the substantive con-tent for the general chapter to consider. When a religious institute re-quests from the membership proposals, recommendations, and sugges-tions prior to a general chapter, it may be of some benefit to explain at the same time what is reasonable for the members to expect from the chap-ter, and to provide some criteria for arriving at the proper methods for expressing those expectations to the chapter delegates. Part of this edu-cation could include guidance into what constitutes "reasonable expec-tations," and how to differentiate between these and what I term "meta-expectations." I use the term rneta-expectations as a phenomenological description for the kinds of aspirations and expectations which are not structurally 31 Review for Religious, January-February 1989 . and substantively significant to the issues ~hich h~ive been identified as chapter material. Persons who express such "meta-expectations" through their proposals and letters certainly do not perceive them as meta-expectations-- or they would not submit them. I believe it is the job of the prechapter committees to communicate to those who submit such pro-posals, even personally if possible, why it is that their expectations are not reasonable for the chapter to include in its portfolio of proposals. Do-ing this would eliminate some of the postchapter frustration, even if in-itially the explanation is quite difficult to accept. A general chapter may, for example, need to deal with spirituality and prayer as they relate to the charism of the institute, and proceeds to invite proposals to that effect. When the proposals are reviewed, how-ever, it is found that some members have expressed a variety of expec-tations which~ are, not substantive.ly identifiable with the charism and spiri-tuality of the institute. If these .expectations were to become content for the~delegates' consideration during the chapter, they could seriously im-pair the effectiveness of chapter deliberations and could ultimately erode the charis~n itself of the institute. The "mandates" of a general chapter are simply directives with en-forcement p.ower. These mandates deal with matters which have an im~ pact on the~members' sPiritual development, community life, prayer, ap-ostolic works, or other important areas which are integral to the life of a religious.The precise direction which the general chapter should take is undergirded by the constitutions and charism of the institute. Whatever else, a chapter accomplishes, it ought to accomplish the ful-fillment of its members' first-order reasonable expectations. These rea-sonably held expectations, in turn, ought to flow from the institute's spiri-tuality and charism. Ageneral ch.apter,, however, need not attend with great detail to ful-filling second-order expectations since these do not necessarily consti-tute the ne'cessary and sufficient matter for a general chapter to entertain. It is these latter which I term meta-expectations. Meta-expectations are something which a newly elected leadership might need: to consider sometime soon after entering into their term of office. But religious institutes which choose to concern themselves with such non-reasonable expectations during the general.chapter frequently find that there are.significantly sharp differences between the way the dele-gates perceive of the proposals presented to them and the way the pro-posing me,.mbers perceive the resulting chapter mandates. They will ac-cept the mandates accord.ing to what their expectations were prior to gen- Meta-Expectations and the Chapter eral chapter. Even in the Church today there is a growing sense that religious in-stitutes are experiencing very serious differences in the way the mem-bership perceives the outc0me of general chapters. This is partially due to the way general chapters often conduct their prechapter preparations and the way that Chapters of Affairs are conducted. These differences in perception and interpretation area result of the failure to differentiate between the reasonable expectations and the meta-expectations of the in-stitute's membership. This failure further fragments the members and their acceptance of the mandates and authority of the chapter. In this paper I will try to clarify what are reasonable expectations for a general chapter, and to show the difference between reasonable expec-tations and meta-expectations and how they influence the general chap-ter, Conflict between these two kinds of expectations can exist whenever expectations of any kind are elicited and aroused. For example, if one is invited to dinner, it is all right to expect something to eat but it is not reasonable to expect filet of beefi That is a meta-expectation, and while it may not be wrong to hold such a meta-expectation, it certainly is not reasonable; nor need the host meet it. Neither should the one holding such a meta-expectation be disappointed or offended if the host does not ~erve filet! More relevant to our discussion are the expectations religious have about their general chapters especially when preparations for them evoke strong expectations among the members as well as among the delegates. As I gtated above, two. of the things which ought to be simultane-ously evolving in the months prior to a chapter are how to identify and clarify the proper content for consideration and how to prepare both dele-gates and members to be able to differentiate between meta-expectations and reasonable expectations. It is reasonable for members of a religious institute to e£pect its gen-eral chapter to ~nandate programs for renewal, for spiritual development, for apostoli6 works, and for good community life. But it is not.reason-able to (xpect it to'decide how the membership ought to rest and relax, even thou'gti such matters are very important and time arid thou~ht~ought to be given to their consideration. It is as unreasonable for the member-ship to expect this to be considered as it would 'be for the general chap-ter to consider it---even if some of the delegates want it added to the agenda. The business of a general chapter is to redesign the future of the institute as it finds itself called to reveal Christ to the world in its con-temporary situation. This is its first-order work and is the only claim any- Review for Religious, January-February 1989 one can reasonably make on a general chapter. If the institute is true to its charism, the general chapter will succeed in fulfilling reasonable ex-pectations, and a newly elected leadership, or a reelected leadership, will be confirmed and authorized in working together to find ways and means to carry out what the chapter has mandated. In doing so, general administration should act in such a way that it further clarifies the difference between reasonable expectations and meta-expectations. Acting thus after the chapter assures continuity as well as flexibility in the institute's lived-out charism, since it preserves the in-tegrity of the institute's constitutions even while assuring versatility in their application to the reality that presents itself here and now.~ After all, it is in the real world that the institute exists, and its contemporary situation should be the focus of the institute's energies if it is to survive. If, however, the general chapter takes into consideration everything sub-mitted to it, the real essence of the institute's life becomes obscured. In addition, every proposal presented to the chapter contains its own par-ticular character and language which force the delegates to unpack its meaning before addressing the issue it contains. By sifting out the recta-expectations from the agenda, the delegates will be freed to concentrate on the constitutions and charism of the institute and to interpret the con-temporary situation in light of the Gospels for the world the institute is called to serve. There is good evidence that the bishops did this in Vatican II docu-ments. The document Lumen Gentium shows that they were aware of their .responsibility to separate out the recta-expectations from the rea-sonable ones.2 Their emphasis was on common-good considerations. Common-good considerations evolve from whatever the community has in common, not from things incidental to it. I believe this is why the docu-ments are clearly and straightforwardly parousial (expectant), so fitting for a Church in labor to reveal Christ to the world. For religious insti-tutes, the emphasis should also be on the common good, that is, on what the institute holds in common and what it shares as an institute in labor to reveal Christ to the world. For religious, this is found in their consti-tutions and in the charism of its founding. The document Perfectae Cari-tatis expresses the expectation of the Church about what it believes re-ligious institutes are called to be: Religious should carefully consider that through them, to believers and nonbelievers alike, the Church truly wishes to give an increasingly clearer revelation of Christ. Through them Christ should be shown con-templating on the mountain, announcing God's kingdom to the multi- Meta-Expectations and the Chapter / 35 tude, healing the sick and the maimed, turning sinners to wholesome fruit, blessing children, doing good to all, and always obeying the will of the Father who sent him.3 Rather than stating the expectations of religious, the document states what it is the Church expects of the religious institutes. This sense of expectation is not alien to either the Old or New Tes-taments. Scriptures retell the sacred history of a people filled with ex-pectation for a Messiah. For some, that expectation was misplaced or mis-focused so that when the Messiah came, when the expectation was ful-filled, they did not recognize it. Likewise, the message of Christ was clearly a statement of what it was he expected of us as we await his sec-ond coming. It is this same degree of expectation which is the ground-ing for religious institutes coming into being in the first place, that is, to reveal Christ to others even as we await (expect) his second coming. At this time some institutes are preparing for their chapter. A great deal of preparation will take place, I am sure. Included in that prepara-tion should be some education on what constitutes reasonable expecta-tions for the membership to have and how to express those expectations in proposals, letters, and prechapter committee work. I believe that some of the meta-expectations expressed prior tochapter in proposals to the general chapter are the result of excessive reliance on congregational and personal self-analyses which, in turn, rely too heavily on current statis-tics, social analysis, and popular trends. This tendency is best described as the historicist versus the historical view of events.4 Both views are needed but if they are not balanced, the religious institutes are robbed of either their historical tradition and dynamism (charism) or of insights derived from knowledge of the cultural and intellectual shifts occurring in society. Needless to say, I believe the omission of either is wrong. In fact, one of the tasks of the general chapter is to ensure that the bal-ance between both perspectives is maintained. Furthermore, an advan-tage to holding the Chapter of Election after the Chapter of Affairs is to ensure that the elected leadership is committed to carrying out the man-date of the general chapter and to the mission of the institute visible in its charism. The business of meta-expectations derailing expectations occurs daily in society--in the system of justice, in education, in government and other natural systems. It ought to occur less frequently in religious institutes if they are open to the Spirit unfolding in them. One other example of the distinction between meta-expectations and Review for Religious, January-February 1989 expectations might clarify what I am saying. In a religious institute mem-bers may experience some dissatisfaction with the missioning process, and all kinds of proposals expressing both meta-expectations and expec-tations emerge. The dissatisfaction is with the process and not with the people doing the job. Instead of focusing on the dissatisfaction, the dele-gates begin, as a result of some meta-expectations, to design new roles and functions for the persons charged with missioning when they ought to have seriously looked at the process and analyzed the cause of dis-content. The process is in need of change; failure to redesign it changes nothing, and future chapters will find themselves still dealing with dis-content about the process. Sometimes an issue is finally resolved but only after it has resurfaced in several chapters. One cannot be sure, however, that the ultimate resolution flows from reasonable expectations or not. What is certain is that if it is the result of meta-expectation something of the institute's charism is diminished. A model for expectations showing the process involved in discern-ment of the kinds of things which happen as a result of responses pro-vided in proposals follows: -Perception: dissatisfaction with missioning process -Response: a change is needed in the process In this model the response is a ~reasonable expectation for members to have. The model also lends itself to scrutiny by the delegates who will then test various recommendations made in the context of chapter to see how they relate to the charism and spirituality of the institute. In doing this, no special interest or meta~expectation will drive the final outcome. After chapter, the information and proposals not used in chapter can be given additional study and perhaps even be used for input into some ad hoc trial period of experimentation. A second model based on meta-expectations follows: -Perception: dissatiSfaction with missioning process -Response: establishment of new roles for persons charged with process The response in this case is the fulfillment of a meta-expectation since it begins to deal with m'any different aspects of the dissatisfaction. The issue is clearly defined as dissatisfaction with the process; then the charism and spirituality of the institute should dictate the solution. The response in this model is expressive of one of the many meta-expecta-tions expressed, all of which are not substantively, relative to the insti-tute's charism and spirituality. This model is provided as example; it is not a definitive model. Religious institutes can substitute ever so many examples which violate their own particular charism. This is not to say Meta-Expectations and the Chapter / 37 that it is wrong to have the vision to redesign the institute or to follow "paths unknown." What this paper is addressing is the growing aware-ness among religious that somewhere things are going amiss and worse, that it is becoming increasingly more difficult for the institute to recog-nize its own charism and spirituality at work in the Church for which it is called to reveal Christ and through him the Father. In this brief essay I have tried to make a distinction between the jus-tifiable and reasonable expectations one might have for a general chap-ter and the meta-expectations one might have, which are not reasonable for a general chapter to consider in its deliberations, no matter how at-tractive or relevant those meta-expectations appear. NOTES ~ Bernard J.F. Lonergan, S.J., Insight: A Study of Human Understanding. London. 1958. passim. 2 Walter M. Abbot, S.J. (ed.), The Documents of Vatican !!, p. 225, n. 26. All ref-erences to the Documents are taken from here. 3 Documents, p. 77, n. 46. 4 For an insightful account of the distinction between historicism and historicalism, read Bernard J.F. Lonergan, S.J., Method In Theology: London, 1971. pp. 323- 326, 239, 318. See also the works of Wilhelm Dilthey and Ernest Troeltsch; Maurice Mandelbaum. Enc. Phil., 4:22-25. Thomas Merton and His Own Cistercian Tradition M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. Father Basil's most recent article in this journal was "Simple Contemplative Prayer" (March/April 1987). He now resides at Assumption Abbey; Rt. 5, Box 193; Ava, Missouri 65608. I presume most of the readers of this essay are fairly familiar with the life and development of Thomas Merton. In the last pages of the Secular Jour-nal, Merton sums up his spiritual journey towards the Church and mon-astery: From Gilson's Spirit of Medieval Philosophy I learned a healthy respect for Catholicism. Then Ends andMeans taught me to respect mysticism. Maritain's Art and Scholasticism was another important influence, and Blake's poetry. Perhaps also Evelyn Underhill's Mysticism, though I read precious little of it. I was fascinated by the Jesuit sermons in Joyce's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man! What horrified him, began to appeal to me. It seemed to me quite sane. Finally G. F. Lahey's Life of Gerard Manley Hopkins; I was reading about Hopkins's conver-sion when 1 dropped the book and ran out of the house to look for Fa-ther Ford. ~ It is not surprising that this author would be influenced primarily by authors and their books. In a preface to A Thomas Merton Reader, published in 1962, six years before his tragic death, Merton summed up his monastic years: I would say that my life at Gethsemani has fallen roughly into four pe-riods. First, the novitiate. I was a novice in 1942-1944. Those were hard years, before the days when radiators were much in favor during the win-ter, when the hours of communal prayer were much longer, when the 38 Merton and Cistercian Tradition fasts were much stricter. It was a period of training, and a happy, aus-tere one; during which 1 wrote little. The best Gethsemani poems be-long to this period. At the end of the novitiate my health broke down and I was ap-pointed to write and do translations of French books and articles. I was also studying philosophy and theology in preparation for ordination to the priesthood. This second period extends from 1944, my first vows, to ordination in 1949. At first the writing was very bad . In 1946 I wrote Seven Storey Mountain, in 1947 Seeds of Contemplation, and in 1948 The Waters of Siloe. After ordination, in 1949, there was an-other brief period of poor health and nervous exhaustion. I was almost incapable of writing for at least a year and a half after I became a priest. Then after a rest period in the hospital, I wrote The Ascent to Truth and Bread in the Wilderness (both about 1951) and finished The Sign of Jonas, 1952. In 1951 1 was appointed the Master of Scholastics, that is, of the young monks studying for ordination in the monastery. This en-tailed a fair amount of work preparing conferences and classes. Books like The Living Bread and particularly No Man is an Island and The Si-lent Life belong to the end of this period. Finally, a fourth stage. In 1955 I was made Master of the Choir Nov-ices. This is an office involving considerable work and responsibility. No writing of any account was done in ! 956, but after that it was possi-ble to produce short books or collections of essays, and some poetry. Disputed Questions, The Wisdom of the Desert, The Behavior of Titans, and New Seeds of Contemplation belong to this last period. So too do more recent essays on nuclear war, on Chinese thought, on liturgy, and on solitude.2 It is notable that in all of this literary reminiscing, Merton does not mention specifically any Cistercian Father or any of the work he did con-cerning them. Actually he does not seem to have had any contact with the Cistercian tradition prior to entering the monastery. But, in fact, once he entered the Cistercian life he so immersed himself in it that it became the very matrix of his life and .thinking. In his early days as he was as-similating Cistercian spirituality, Merton wrote about the Cistercian Fa-thers explicitly. When he served the community as Master of Scholastics and as Novice Master, he spoke about them constantly; his notes and his taped conferences are full of them. Later they cropped up spontaneously in his writings, the paradigm against which he evaluated what he was then absorbing. One of his favorites would find his place in the final talk Merton gave a few hours before his sudden death.3 When Merton first entered the monastery, there was, as he said in the epilogue of The Spirit of, Simplicity,4 little of the Cistercian Fathers 40 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 available in English.5 But this did not hinder him. He not only found no problem in reading the Latin texts in Migne, he strongly believed that translations always lacked something of the origin~il.6 How carefully he studied these texts is witnessed not only by his frequent use of quota-tions from them in his early writings and the talks he gave his scholas-tics and novices, but also by the .und.erlinings and annotations found in the voit]mes of the Fathers which he used. One of Thomas Merton's-- or Frater Louis, as he was then called-- earliest assignments was to translate a.report from the CisterCian Gen-eral Chapter, entitled The Spirit of Simplicity,7 and provide a suitable in-troduction for it. He'not only did that but gathered a complementary selection of texts from St. Bernard on interior simplicity in its fullness. He translated these and commented on them, turning the report into a full book. This part of the The Spirit of Simplicity has recently been published in a volume in the Cistercian Studies Series with two other early Bernar-dine essays of Merton.8 He wrote a five-part study of Bernard and St. John of the Cross for Collectanea which expresses his concern of that period when he was writing The Ascent to Truth .9 We can detect in these essays a certain struggle Merton was experiencing in trying to respond both to the rich, fully human patristic heritage Bernard offered him and the exciting, stimulating, scholastic approach which John of the Cross was able to integrate with a high mystical theology. It wbuld be Ber-nard's approach that would win him over. In the prologue to The Sign of Jonas he would write: "I found in writing The Ascent to Truth that technical language, though it is univer-sal and certain and accepted by theologians, .does not reach the average man and does not convey what is more personal and most vital in relig-ious experience. Since my focus is not upon dogmas as such, but only on their repercussions in the life of a soul in which they begin to find concrete realization, I may be pardoned for using my own words to talk about my own soul." ~0 The third piece in the Cistercian Studies volume witnesses to another early concern of Merton--the superiority of thecontemplative life. In an extensive essay which was first published serially in ~Collectanea and later appeared as a volume in French,~ Merton is at pains to establish that the apostolic life, though it may have a fullness beyond the purely contemplative life, as Bernard ,acknow!edges,.has true:value only inso-far as it flows out of contemplation. And thus the contemplative life is in itself more important or of greater dignity. Merton's~argumentation Merton and Cistercian Tradition here is not all that easy to follow, nor that cogent. Later he himself would comment negatively about such preoccupation.~2 The eighth centenary of Bernard's death led to a spate of publishing on the saint. Merton translated the papal encyclical produced for the oc-casion and wrote an introduction to it. ~3 He was invited to introduce other works. His preface to Bernard de Clairvaux, a collection of studies pub-lished by the Historical Commission of his order and edited by its chair-man, Father Jean-de-la-Croix Bouton, shows the increasing influence of Bernard on Merton.~4 The piece is filled with scriptural texts and allu-sions. We might.say it is a very Bernardine piece about Bernard. In line with his earlier concentration, Merton sees that Bernard added to the Cis-tercian reform "an emphatic call to contemplative union with God." ~5 At the same time Merton begins to reveal a more integral understanding of Bernard as a "man of his times . . . a many-sided saint." 16 This is further in evidence in the next piece. His .introduction to Bruno Scott James's translation of the letters of St. Bernard, he considered important. ~7 At his behest it was included in A Thomas Merton Reader in the section ".Mentors and Doctrines."~8 It revealed Thomas Merton's growth in his appreciation for Bernard in line with his own personal growth. Merton had had his experience on the cor-ner of Maple and Fourth. He now beheld all with a greater integrity. He had a new .appreciation for Bernard the man. H~e appreciated the letters because they so well brought out the human dimension of the great saint: They [the letters] show the man as he is, and because he is so much a man, readers who forget that saints must be men may sometimes be in-clined to question his saintliness . Bernard is sent to instruct us how human a saint must be to forge'out the will of God in the heat of the affairs of men . He had the humility to be himself in the thick of a silly argument. He had the good grace to admit that a saint might pos-sibly have to bicker with another saint . The angry Bernard, the pas-sionate Bernard . . . the merciful Bernard, the gentle long-suffering monk who could be as tender as a mother . 19 As Merton noted in his brief literary biography quoted above, liturgy came more to the fore in a later period of his life. In Seasons of Cele-bration he published one of his most beautiful pieces on St. Bernard: "The Sacrament of Advent in the Spirituality of St. Bernard.' ,20 It is undoubtedly St. Bernard, the "Theologian of the Cistercian Life" (as Merton's friend Jean Leclercq would name him), who received the most attention from Merton. Besides Bernard's prominence as the mas-ter of the Cistercian school, there would be the influence of Gilson. As 42 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 we have seen above, Gilson was one of the first to open the way for Mer-ton towards Catholicism. Merton's respect for him never diminished, and his masterful work The Mystical Theology of Saint BerndrdZ~ was most carefully studied and wholly accepted by Merton.22 But Merton read all the significant Cistercian Fathers, and spoke and wrote on them as occa-sion offered. The "Bernard of the North," Bernard's disciple, the abbot of Rievaulx, Aelred, received special attenti.on. Merton has an extensive un-published piece on him, which looks like it was on the way to becoming a book. We can hope it will. soon appear in Cistercian Studies. It is an important piece, and I shall return to it later in this esgay. As one of his first projects for Cistercian Publications, Merton wrote an introduction for Father Amfd6e Hallier's Monastic Theology of Aelred of Rievaulx. Here again we see the later Merton rejecting earlier attitudes: Let us be quite clear the monastic theology of Aelred is not a partisan "theology of monasticism." It is not an apologia for .the life of the monk, and not a kind of gnostic system organized to prove some sup-posed superiority of "the contemplative life," urging a flight to ineffa-ble convulsions,z3 He saw that "the Christian life is, for Aelred, simply the full flow-ering of freedom and consent in the perfection of friendship. Friendship with other human beings is an epiphany of friendship with God." Mer-ton notes that "Not so long ago, some of Aelred's books were kept un-der lock and key in Trappist libraries. ,,24 Merton never wrote a particular essay on Bernard's closest friend, William of Saint Thierry, but he considered him "a profound and origi-nal theologian and a contemplative in his own right."25 He dedicated one of his first books to him, "one of the saints and mystical theologians of the Golden Age," and quoted him extensively in the foreword.26 In regard to the fourth of the evangelists of Citeaux, Guerric of Igny, we have the opportunity to get a sampling of Merton's more ordinary treat-ment of the Cistercian Fathers in his talks to the juniors at Gethsemani. Sister Bernard Martin of Chimay transcribed two of Merton's talks which had been taped and published the transcription in Cistercian Studies in 1972.27 For Merton, "Guerric was really deep and very spiritual and very mystical."28 And as Merton.opens him up for his novices, he is also very much alive, very practical and down to earth. It is in these intimate talks that we best see how the Cistercian Fathers reverberated in the mind and heart of this twentieth-century Cistercian Father. Merton and Cistercian Tradition There is a more formal treatment of Guerric of Igny and his liturgi-cal sermons in Merton's introduction to the Gethsemani Christmas book for 1959: Sister Rose of Lima's translation of Guerric's Christmas ser-mons. 29 Other Cistercian Fathers turn up in Merton's published writings. There are poems about St, Alberic3° and St. Malachy.3! When Cister-cian Studies began publishing Sister Penelope's translation of the ser-mons of Isaac of Stella, Merton provided an introduction for this "not the least interesting of the Cistercian writers."32 He found him a "more independent thinker and less subject to the dominant influence of Saint Bernard''33, whose writings reminded him "at times of Eckhart in their tone."34 Merton's spirit resonated with this abbot who withdrew from a large and important Cistercian abbey to an erernus, a poor and lonely island foundation. Merton provided an introduction for another Cistercian Father, one of his favorites, Adam of Perseigne.35 Earlier he had written about Adam's theory of monastic formation in an essay that was published in Charles Dumont's French translation.36 Adam was for Merton something of a mentor in his duties as novice master, and his admiration for the ab-bot of Perseigne remained till the end. In his final talk at Bangkok he brings him forth to illustrate a basic monastic theory.37 When the earlier essay was further developed, Merton gave it a new title, one that wit-nessed to his own development: The Feast of Freedom. Adam, Aelred, all the great Cistercian Fathers led Merton in the same direction. But Merton did not have an unbounded admiration for all the twelfth-century Cistercian writers, Here is an example, Gamier of Langres: Gamier was not deep and not spiritual and not mystical. He was a literal-minded person with a lot of learning. As a matter of fact he is quite in-teresting, On the liturgy, he has a lot of little statements about what they did at the time and what they thought they were doing and why they did it. But these are just little statements of historical fact. Today Gamier would be a scientific-minded critic. "But a scientific-minded critic in the Middle Ages is just about zero, because he has nothing to work on . He's finished, he's dated, he's way back. He is no more modern than 'a twelfth-century concept of the universe.38 He goes so far as to say: "His work., is not in English at all, and if it never gets translated into English that won't be too soon.' ,39 This does, though, give, us another indication as to the extent to which Merton worked his way through the pages of Migne4° and ex-plored all the published writings of the early Cistercian Fathers. 44 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 Above I have mentioned the monograph that Merton was working on entitled "Saint Aelred of Rievaulx." This is a significant piece of work. In placing Aelred in context Merton gives a fine synopsis of Cis-tercian history and especially literary history from the foundation in 1098 up till the death of Becket (+ 1170). But I think one of the valuable ele-ments of this work is the insight that Merton has as a later Cistercian writer into these early Cisterclan writers. Indeed, as I read the pertinent section I ask.myself if this is not a candid insight into Merton himself as a Cistercian writer: ¯ . . the rich and elegant vitality of Cistercian prose--most of which is sheer poetry--betrays an overflow 0( literary productivity which did not even need to strive for its effects: it achieved them, as it were, sponta-neously. It seemed to be second nature to St. Bernard, William of St. Thierry, Adam of Perseigne, Guerric of lgny, to write with consummate beauty prose full of sound and color and charm, There were two natural explanations for this. The first is that the prolific Cistercian writers of the Golden Age were men who had already been thoroughly steeped in the secular literary .movements of the time before they entered the clois-ter. All of them had rich experience of the current of humanism that flow-ered through the twelfth-century renaissance . There is a second explanation for the richness and exuberance of theo-logical prose in twelfth-century monasteries of Citeaux. If contact with classical humanism had stimulated a certain intellectual vitality in these clerics, it hlso generated a conflict in their souls. The refined natural ex-citements produced by philosophical speculation, by art, poetry, music, by the companionship of restless sensitive and intellectual friends merely unsettled their souls. Far from finding peace and satisfaction in all these things, they found war. The only answer to the problem was to make a clean break with everything that stimulated this spiritual uneasiness, to withdraw from the centers in which it was fomented, and get away somewhere, discover some point of vantage from which they could see the whole difficulty in its proper perspective. This vantage point, of course, was not only the cloister, since Ovid and Tully had already be-come .firmly established' there, but the desert--the terra invia et inaquosa in which the Cistercian labored and suffered and prayed . The tension generated by the conflict between secular humanism and the Christian humanism, which seeks the fulfillment of human nature through ascetic renunciation and mystical union with God, was one 6f the proximate causes of the powerful mystical writing of the Cistercians. , However, once these two natural factors have been considered, we must recognize other and far more decisive influences, belonging to a higher order . It is the relish and savor that only experience can Merton and Cistercian Tradition give, that communicates to the writings of the twelfth-century Cister-cians all the vitality and vividness and impassioned sincerity which are peculiarly their own . The White Monks speak with accents of a more personal and more lyrical conviction that everywhere betrays the influence of an intimate and mystical experience . It is the personal, experiential character of Cistercian mysticism that gives the prose of the White Monks its vivid freshness . Since the theology of the Cistercians was so intimately persona! and experiential, their exposition of it was bound to take a psychological di-rection. All that they wrote was directed by their keen awareness of the presence and action of God in their souls. This was their all-absorbing interest.4~ Many scholars have noted that Merton's writings show a rather su-perficial knowledge of the Eastern religions. But when I traveled in the East and spoke with the spiritual masters there who had come into con-tact with Merton on his last journey, they said they had never met any-one from the West who had so fully understood their ways. I think the same might be said of Merton and the Cistercian Fathers. Certainly many scholars know more about the Fathers and the early history of the Cis-tercian order. But few, if any, so fully understand their spirit as does this twentieth-century Cistercian Father. Moreover, no one has been able to express so fully and clearly, and in a way that communicates to our times, what these Fathers have to say to our times and to the renewal of the Cistercian order. Cistercians cannot but profit from choosing Tho-mas Merton, their F.ather Louis, for their lectio, from spending time with him and letting him lead them into a deeper, fuller understanding and appreciation of their Cistercian Fathers. NOTES ~ Thomas Merton, The Secular Journal ofThomas Merton (New York: Farrar, Straus & Cudahy, 1959), pp. 268f. 2 A Thomas Merton Reader, ed. by Thomas McDonnell (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1962), pp. viiif. 3 Adam of Perseigne. See The Asian Journal of Thomas Merton (New York: New Directions, 1973), p. 333. 4 The Spirit of Simplicity: Characteristic of the Cistercian Order (Trappist, Ken-tucky: Abbey of Gethsemani, 1948). 5 Ibid., p. 137. Merton played an important role in remedying this situation in the part he played in the founding of Cistercian Publications, which has now published more than forty volumes of the Cistercian Fathers in English. 6 Reader, p. 317. 46/Review for Religious, January-February 1989 7 See note 4 above. 8 Thomas Merton on Saint Bernard, Cistercian Studies Series (hereafter CS), vol. 9 (Kalamazoo, Michigan: Cistercian Publications, 1980), pp. 103-157. 9 New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1951. ~0 Thomas Merton, The Sign of Jonas (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1953), pp. 8f. ~ Marthe, Marie, et Lazare (Bruges: Desclee de Brouwer, 1956). ~2 In the preface to A Thomas Merton Reader he would write: ". it would be a still greater misapprehension to say I am simply trying to prove that the contempla-tive life is 'better than the active life,' . Not only am I not trying to prove these propositions, but stated in this bald and unqualified manner, I do not even hold them. It is true that fifteen years ago I was able to get excited about such theses, but I have come to see that controversy about speculative matters of this sort is not only a waste of time but is seriously misleading. We are all too prone to believe in our own pro-grams and to follow the echo of our own slogans into a realm of illusion and unreal-ity"( p, viii). 13 The Last of the Fathers (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1954). ~4 Bernard of Clairvaux (Paris: Editions Alsatia, 1953). It was later published in The Tablet and Cross and Crown and in Disputed Questions (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1960),.pp. 260-276, under the title "St. Bernard, Monk and Apostle." ~5 Disputed Questions, p. 263. 16 Ibid., p. 262. ~7 Bruno Scott James, St. Bernard of Clairvaux Seen Through his Selected Letters (Chicago: Henry Regnery Company, 1953), pp. v-viii. ~8 Reader, pp. 315-319. 19 Reader, pp. 316f. zo Seasons of Celebration (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1965), pp. 61-87. z~ New York: Sheed and Ward, 1955. 22 There is a copy of Gilson's work in the Merton Center at Columbi~ University with Merton's underlining and marginalia which indicate the care with which he stud-ied this book. 23 Am~d~e Hallier, The Monastic Theology ofAelred ofRievaulx, tr. by Colum-ban Heaney, CS 2 (Spencer, Massachusetts: Cistercian Publications, 1969), p. viii. 2,~ Ibid., pp. xif. 25 "Saint Aelred of Rievaulx," MSS, p. 20. ??26ft2The Spirit of Simplicity, pp. vf. 27 Thomas Merton, "Guerric of lgny's Easter Sermons" in Cistercian Studies, vol. 7 (1972), pp. 85-95. 28 Ibid., p. 85. 29 The Christmas Sermons of Blessed Guerric of lgny, tr. by Sr. Rose of Lima (Trap-pist, Kentucky: Abbey of Our Lady of Gethsemani, 1959), pp. 1-25. 30 "Saint Alberic" in Selected Poems of Thomas Merton (New York~ New Direc-tions, 1959), pp. 44f. 3~ Ibid., pp. 75ff. This poem is reproduced in the Reader, pp. 177f. 32 Louis Merton, "Isaac of Stella: An Introduction to Selections from his Sermons," in Cistercian Studies, vol. 2 (1967), p. 243. 33 Ibid. 3,~ Ibid., p. 244. 35 "The Feast of Freedom: Monastic Formation according to Adam of Perseigne," Merton and Cistercian Tradition in The Letters of Adam ofPerseigne, vol. 1, tr. by Grace Perigo, Cistercian Fathers Series, no. 21 (Kalamazoo, Michigan: Cistercian Publications, 1976), pp. 3-48. 36 "La formation monastique selon Adam de Perseigne," in Collectanea Ordinis Cisterciensium Reformatorum, vol. 19 (1957), pp. 1-17. 37 The Asian Journal of Thomas Merton (New York: New Directions, 1973), p. 333. 38 "Guerric . . . Easter Sermons," pp. 85f. 39 Ibid. 40 He read Garnier in Patrologia Latina, vol. 205. 4~ MSS. pp. 10-17. Liturgy of the Hours: A Canticle for Canticles Three canticles encompass all our praise: Three sacred songs of trusting love and hope. At dawn there breaks upon us like the sun, Old Zechariah's paean to God's work. At dusk, like Vesper star, young Mary sings Magnificat for mercy to us all. Then at day's end in darkness gently fall Old Simeon's thankful words, as clear and bright As Compline candles glowing in the dark To mark the end of day, perhaps of life: To let God's servants go in peace to him. Three son~s that with their jeweled antiphons, Like winking diamonds, daily bring delight As we lift hearts at dawn, at dusk, at night. Maryanna Childs, O.P. Ohio Dominican College 1818 Sunbury Road Columbus, Ohio 43219 The Challenge of Church Teachings: How Do I Respond? Lucy Blyskal, C.S.J. Sister Lucy Blyskal, C.S.J., has a doctorate in canon law and is a diocesan judge on the Tribunal of the diocese of Rockville Centre, New York. Her article is the fruit of her canon law dissertation on the Church's teaching authority. Her address is Tri-bunal of the Diocese of Rockville Centre; 50 North Park Avenue; Rockville Centre, New York 11570. In view of the increasing number of official Church pronouncements on many debated issues, how can today's religious keep informed and re-flect intelligently on such statements? How does one discern and listen to the Spirit of the teaching Church and the Spirit within oneself? The purpose of this article, comprised of two parts, is to help us to respond appropriately to papal and episcopal documents. The first sec-tion discusses three main aspects of the Church's teaching authority: (I) the truths of the faith as given to the ff.hgle.Church; (2) the concept of infallible Church teaching; (3) the noninfallible teaching and the response owed to it by the faithful. The second part offers the reader a practical method for analyzing doctrinal statements, and then applies this method to evaluate three somewhat controversial doctlments issued recently. Hopefully, this information will lead to a deepened knowledge and love of the faith which ought to transform our hearts and impel us to serve justice and peace in the world. Part I: Church Teaching Authority Revelation as Given to the Whole Church To set the correct context for'a discussion of teaching authority, it is important to keep in mind that the Church is fundamentally a commu- 48 Challenge of Church Teachings / 49 nity of faith and witness which worships God in Jesus Christ and bears witness to the Church's divinely given message throughout the world. Because Christ handed over the deposit of revelation to the whole Church, it is in the possession of the whole body of Spirit-empowered people, not just the hierarchy. While Scripture calls Peter the "rock" on which the Church was to be built, it never refers to him or the twelve apostles as "the Church." Thus, to speak of "the Church" as having done something when in fact an office or official is the source is theo-logic. ally incorrect; one should name the office involved, for example, "the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith stated . "~ In its doctrine on infallibility, Vatican I carefully and explicitlyaf-firmed that the deposit of revelation is with the whole Church. The text of Vatican I names the Church as the primary subject of infallibility in stating that: "the Roman Pontiff. enjoys the infallibility with which the divine Redeemer wanted his'Church to be endowed in defining doc-trine concerning faith or morals."2 Vatican II in The Constitution on the Church (article 12) clearly reitera.ted that, thanks to a supernatural sense of faith which characterizes the People of God, "the body of faithful as a whole, anointed as they are by the Holy One (see Jn 2:20, 27) can-not err in matters of belief." Since all believers possess, can perceive, and have insights into the Christian revelation, what is the specific task and charism of the hierar-chy? By Christ's will, the disciples were commissioned: (I) to be his "witnesses. to the end of the earth" (Ac !:8); (2) to "go and teach all nations" (Mt 28:19) his full revelation, under the guidance of his Spirit. (1) The chief vocation of the disciples and their successors is "to witness" to the integrity and truth of the evangelical doctrine. This call to witness does not necessarily include the capacity to have and to ar-ticulate the deepest insights into the meaning of the mysteries of our faith,3 which is a special gift. It is noteworthy that this gift has produced some of the most significant developments in the understanding of the faith not in members of the hierarchy but in such persons as Thomas Aqui-nas, honored as the common teacher of the Church, and Teresa of Av-ila, named doctor of the spiritual life. (2) Because of Christ's command to his disciples to "teach all na-tions," the Christian community from its earliest days has also recog-nized the importance of an authoritative teaching body to maintain inner unity as the gospel was being spread. By Christ's will, this teaching authority, termed the "magisterium," belongs to the hierarchy who are 50 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 sacramentally empowered and assisted by the Spirit to speak in the name of.Jesus Christ. Therefore, Catholics are to trust what pope and bishops teach, not because of their personal learning or stated reasons for their teaching, but precisely because of the spiritual authority of the office they occupy.4 Infallible Teaching Authority Vatican Council I first defined the infallible teaching authority of the Church as an article of faith in promulgating the dogmatic constitution Pastor Aeternus in 1870.5 While it reaffirmed this dogma of Vatican I, Vatican Council II integrated it into the doctrine on the collegiality of the bishops united with the pope and the doctrine of the Church as the People of God (Constitution on the Church, articles 12, 18, 25). Article 25 of this constitution6 states that when the pope or the episcopal col-lege (pope and bishops together) solemnly,proclaim matters of faith and morals, they are protected by the Spirit of Christ from misleading the peo-ple by teaching erroneous doctrine; hence their teaching is infallible. Several conditions need to be fulfilled for a teaching to be consid-ered infallible. First, the doctrine must deal with a matter of faith or mor-als. Second, it must be proclaimed by a duly authorized Church teacher as binding on the universal Church. Finally, it must be proclaimed "to be definitively held" by all Catholics as a dogma of faith. This infalli-ble teaching authority has been exercised only rarely since its cautious and circumscribed definition by Vatican Council I. More recently, the Constitution of the Church and the 1983 Code of Canon Law7 describe three ways in which this infallible magisterium can be exercised. (I) The pope may issue a solemn or ex cathedra pronouncement. Ac-cording to Vatican Council I, popes possess and can articulate the infal-libility with which the Divine Redeemer endowed his Church for defini-tive decisions in matters of faith and morals. For example, Pope Pius XII proclaimed the dogma of the Assumption by the bull Mun~ficentissimus issued November i, 1950. (2) The episcopal college may act solemnly in ecumenical councils. In ecumenical councils, the episcopal college, assembled in one place, acquires a special clarity and efficacy. Here the corporate episcopate can act in a solemn manner to define an article of faith; for example, Vati-can Council I promulgated the doctrine of infallibility in Pastor Aeter-nus in 1870. (3) The episcopal college may exercise its "ordinary and universal magisterium." In their ordinary and universal magisterium, the same bish- Challenge of Church Teachings / 51 ops, without coming together in one assembly, and with each remaining at his post, can definitively set forth some doctrine for the absolute ac-ceptance oLthe entire Church. In practice it is not always easy to ascer-tain whether or not the magisterium in a given case is exercising infalli-bility through this "ordinary" manner. It has been suggested that a pos-sible example of this level of Church doctrine is the common and con-stant teaching of pope and bishops throughout the world on the moral evil of abortion. How is an infallible doctrine to be received by the faithful? Vatican II's Constitution on the Church and the 1983 Code hold that infallible teaching must be accepted with obsequium fidei, translated as the 'as-sent of faith." This assent of faith is to be absolute and unconditional because it involves divine authority which utteriy excludes the possibil-ity of error. Consequently, the obstinate denial of truths proclaimed as infallible would constitute heresy. However, various Church documents warn the faithful to receive a teaching as infallible only when it has been definitively proclaimed as such. Vatican II, for example, declared that its statements on faith or morals should be seen as binding on the Church only when the council expressly declared them as such.8 Like'vise, the new Code cautions that no doctrine is understood to~ be infallibly defined "unless this is manifestly demonstrated. ,,9 From this review of the meaning of infallible teaching, it is obvious that the great majority of doctrinal statements issued on a day-to-day ba-sis do not fit into this category. Rather, most documents seem to belong to the nondefinitive level of authority--which makes the accurate under-standing of this noninfallible teaching crucially important today. Noninfallible Church Teaching The noninfallible magisterium is the term used to refer to the follow-ing exercises of the Church's teaching office: (l) the pronouncements of the pope when he is not teaching ex cathedra; (2) the declarations of an office of the Roman See with the special approval of the doctrine by the pope as his own; (3) the declarations of a curial office with routine but not special papal approval; (4) the promulgation of a doctrine by the pope toget, l~er with the college of bishops in council; (5) the teachings of an individual bishop; (6) the pronouncements of a grouping of bishops in an episcopal conference or a particular council. In order to respond appropriately to the numerous doctrinal state-ments issued by these official teachers, one needs to understand: (I) the nature of noninfallible teaching; (2) gradations among nondefinitive teach-ings; (3) inherent difficulties. Review for Religious, January-February 1989 ( I ) The Nature of Noninfallible Teaching. Three basic principles un-derlie this exploration of the noninfallible magisterium. (a) The concepts of noninfallible Church teaching and the response owed to it are evolving concerns whose complete meanings are not yet in the Church's consciousness. ~0 Recall that the definition of infallible teaching authority (1870) took place only within the last one hundred twenty years of the Church's two thousand year existence, (b) The issues of nondefinitive Church teaching and the response owed to it are being examined and applied by a Church that is itself an evolving reality as a community and an institution. ~ (c) With the spread and evolution of the Church, there has been a concomitant growth and development of doctrine, for example, "a growth in the understanding of the realities and the words which have been handed down" (Constitution on Divine Revelation, article 8). Vati-can II reiterated in its Decree on Ecumenism that: "If there are deficien-cies in the formulation of doctrine . these should be appropriately rectified at the proper moment" (article 6). More recently, the Congre-gation for the Doctrine of the Faith for the first time officially acknowl-edged that even the Church's expression of a truth of revelation at a par-ticular age may need to b~ reformulated in a subsequent era. ~2 These of-ficial statements on the growth possible in dogmatic teaching can be ap-plied afortiori to the noninfailible level of teaching. ,Basically, it is difficult to categorize the precise nature of nondefini-tire teaching. According to Orsy, noninfallible teaching is composed of two types of doctrine in an organic unity: some changeable h~uman thoughts (often of a particular school), and incorrupt expressions of the deposit of revelation. For this reason, simplistic statements such as "non-infallible statements by ecclesiastical authorities are binding," or, "dis-sent from noninfallibly stated doctrine should be always permissible" do not recognize .the complex content of the body of noninfallible beliefs. Orsy also makes the important observation that a particular document may, and. usually does, contain a mixture of infallible and noninfallible teachings without any indication of the different levels involved. ~3 In 1967, the German bishops referred to another significant aspect of noninfallible teaching authority when they pointed out that this level of magisterium "can, and on occasion actually does fall into error." 14 Francis Sullivan, a theologian, comments that it seems impossible to fault the reasoning of the German bishops: if the nondefinitive teaching of the magisterium is not infallible, it can be erroneous and can stand in need of correction. ~5 Here the basic principle of the development of Challenge of Church Teachings doctrine comes into play. Indeed the Church has corrected or reversed its stance on a number of occasions. 16 For example, the Decree on Ecu-menism of Vatican II clearly departed from previous papal teaching re-garding the Church's negative stance on relationships with non-Catholic Christians. Another obvious example is the final lifting of the condemna-tions imposed in the celebrated "Galileo case." ~7 In their pastoral letter, the German bishops point out that the Church has always been aware of the possibility of error. They conclude, how-ever, that in order to maintain the true and ultimate substance of faith the Church officials must, even at the risk of error in points of detail, "give expression to doctrinal directives which have a certain degree of binding force." (2) Gradation Among Noninfallible Documents. The weight or gra-dation of importance of a noninfallible statement can be indicated either by the person or body issuing the teaching, or the type of literary genre of the document itself that is utilized to promulgate the teaching. (a) As noted earlier, noninfallible statements can be issued by the pope or the bishops. Since the formal authority o.f the pope and the epis-copal college exceeds that of the bishops acting individually or con-jointly, there are obviously gradations among the various teachings prom-ulgated. (b) The second criterion for ascertaining the weight of a particular ~ondefinitive pronouncement is its literary genre, or, "the nature of the document" that is utilized (Constitution on the Church, article 25). Ap-ostolic constitutions, for example, are considered the most solemn form of papal documents. Then come papal acts in the form of letters in two categories, encyclical epistles and encyclical letters, the latter form be-ing less solemn than the former. The ordinary magisterium of the pope is also found in doctrinal dec-larations of the curia, for example, of the Congregations for Doctrine and for Seminari

Issue 43.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1984. ; REvll!w I:OR RE~.lt;~Ot~S (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. R~=.vlt.'.w FOR RE~.~t3~ot~s is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. Louis, MO. @ 1984 by Rl~vll:.w FOR RE~.mlot;s. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two'years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For sub~ripfion orders or change of address, write Rt:v~t:w ~,oR Rt:l.w,~ot~s: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Sept./Oct., 1984 Volume 43 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR R~-:tAGtOOS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~-:v~.:w ~'oR Rt-:t.t~;~oos; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Oul of print" issues and articles not published as reprints arc available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. "On the Strength of His Word": A Meditation on Priestly Spirituality Joseph Ratzinger Oh the occasion of the golden jubilee celebration of Joseph Cardinal H~Sffner, Archbishop of Cologne (October 30, 1982), Cardinal RatTJng~r offered this meditation on the priesthood which many have found helpful. The text is based on the translation which appeared in L'Osservatore Romano, 2 April, 1984, pp. 13ft. Cardinal Ratzinger is presently Prefect of the S. Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, where he may be addressed: 1 -- 00120 Vatican City The past twenty years have witnessed a great deal of reflection and much heated discussion about the priesthood. But in spite of everything, the priest-hood proves to be longer-lived thari anticipated by many of the premature arguments put forward by certain persons who would want to abandori it as a sacred misunderstanding, replacing it with an understanding based on the concept of a merely functional "temporary service." We are gradually°coming to comprehend the presuppositions which at one time allowed such arguments to appear almost incontrovertible. Overcoming these prejudices also enables "us to understand more profoundly the biblical witness in its inner unity--of Old and New Testament, of Bible and Church. We are thus no longer forced to rest content with stale water from cisterns that sometimes trickles away amid conflicting h3ipotheses and sometimes collects in brackish little pools. Instead, we have accessto the living fountains of the faith of the Church of all ages. As far as I can see, the future will have to face precisely this question: How are we supposed to read the Scriptures? During the years when the canon of the Scriptures was being formed--which were also the years when the Church and her catholicity were taking shape--it was primarily Irenaeus of Lyons who had to deal with this question, whose answer decided whether ecclesiasti-cal life was possible or not. In his day, Irenaeus saw clearly that to divide the 641 649 / Review for Religious~; Sept.-Oct., 1984 Bible in itself, and to separate Bible and Church from each other was the basic principle of a Christianity of conformism and rationalism, the so-called Gnosis, which threatened the very foundations of the Church at that time. This basic twofold division was preceded by an inner division of the Church itself into communities which created their own ad hoc legitimacy by a selec-tion of sources. The disintegration of the sources of faith calls forth the disintegration of fellowship or communio--and vice versa. Gnosis attempts to put forth such a division or separation as being the epitome of rationality--divide the two Testaments, separate Scripture from Tradition, distinguish between educated and uneducated Christians--but in truth, Gnosis is a sign of decay. On the contrary, the unity of the Church renders visible the unity of that whence she lives: the Church lives only when she draws upon the Whole, upon the multiform unity of Old and New Testa-ments, of scriptural tradition and the realization of the Word in faith. Once one has bowed to this other logic of disintegration, then nothing can really be put together properly any more.~ It would be inappropriate to the solemn joy of this day were we to enter more deeply into the scholarly disputation just h!nted at--though this dispute must be settled before one can discuss details of the biblical testimony, for instance on the subject of the priesthood. The very joy of this day is itself something of a locus theologicus. The fifty years of priesthood that we celebrate is a reality which speaks for itself, and which gives a concrete context to these reflections. On this occasion, then," ! thought it better not to attempt a scholarly lecture upon the priesthood, but instead to offer a spiritual reflection, one in which 1 should like to explain a few scriptural passages which have come to be important to me personally, and to do this in a meditative way, without any special system or claim to scholarship. The Priestly Image in Lk 5:1-11 and Jn 1:35-42 The first text I have chosen is Luke 5:!-11. This is the wonderful "voca-tion" account which tells how Peter and his friends, after a night of fruitless labor, on the strength of the Lord's word put out to sea once more. They catch a shoal of fish so great that the nets almost break, whereupon :Jesus utters his "call": ~'You shall become a fisher of men!" I have a very special affection for this passage because above it there shines the dawning light of a first love, of a beginning full of hope and readiness. Every time 1 recall these verses 1 remember the fresh brightness of my own beginnings, of that joy in the Lord of which we spoke in the phrase from the old psalter with which we began Mass: "I will go unto the altar of God, to the God who giveth joy to my youth" (Ps 42:4)--to the God in whose nearness the joy oI~ being young is constantly renewed because he is life itself, and hence the source of genuine youth. But let us return to our text which reports that the people pressed upon On the Strength of His Word / 643 Jesus because they wanted to hear the word of God. He is standing on the seashore, the fishermen are washing their nets, and Jesus gets into one of the two boats beached there--it was Peter's boat. Jesus asks him to put out a little from the land; he sits down and teaches the people from the boat. Simon's boat thus becomes the cathedra of Jesus Christ. Afterwards he says to Simon: "Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch." The fishermen have spent all night toiling in vain. To them it seems quite pointless to lower the nets again in the early morning hours. But for Peter, Jesus has already become so important, indeed so decisive, that he replies: On the strength of your word--"At your word I will let down the nets." The word of Jesus has already become more substantial than what is apparently real and empirically certain. That Galilean morning, whose fresh scent we can almost breathe in this account, becomes an image of the new dawn of the Gospel after the nights of fruitles~ness into which our own actions and: desires repeatedly lead us. And when Peter and his companions return with their heavy cargo-- which required the help of their partners because the abundance of the gift threatened to break their nets--Peter had completed not merely an outward journey, a work of merely human hands. For Peter, this had become an interior journey whose extent is framed by Luke in just two words. The Evangelist reports that before the great catch of fish, Peter addressed the Savior as Epistata, which means "teacher," "professor," or "master." Upon his return, however, Peter, falls on his knees before Jesus and no longer addresses him as Rabbi but as Kyrie--"Lord." In other words, Peter now addresses Jegus as God. Peter had. traveled the road from "Rabbi,' to "Lord," from "Teacher" to "Son." At the completion of this interior journey he is capable of receiving a vocation. At this point the parallels to the first "vocation" account in Jn 1:35-42, practically force themselves upon us.2 There we read that the first two disci-ples, Andrew and an unnamed companion, ~follow Jesus after hearing the Baptist exclaim, ".Behold, the Lamb of God !" They are struck on the one hand by the consciousness of their own sinfulness evoked by this exclamation, on the other hand by the hope which the Lamb of God represents for the sinner. One senses that both of them. are still uncertain; their discipleship is still hesitant.~ Without saying any more, they follow him discreetly, apparently not yet daring to address him directly. And so he turns to them and says, "What do you seek?" Although the reply sounds awkward, a bit shy and embar-rassed, still it comes directly to the. point: "Rabbi, where do you live?" Or, more acurately translated, "Where are you staying?"--where is your abode, your shelter, your real residence, that we too may arrive there?" Here, we must remind ourselves that the idea of "abiding" or "residing" is one of the key concepts of St. John's Gospel. The Savior's reply is normally translated "Come and see!" This corres-ponds with the conclusion of John's second "vocation" account involving 644 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 Nathanael, to whom Jesus says, "You shall see greater things than these!" (Jn 1:50). The meaning of this "coming," in other, words, is becoming perceptive; "coming" means to be seen by him--and to begin seeing with him. As a matter of fact, above his abode the heavens, the hidden sphere of God, are open (Jn 1:51); there man stands in God's own radiance. "Come, and you shall see!" also accords with the Church's "communion psalm": "O taste and see that the Lord is god!" (Ps 34:8). It is only the approach, the "coming," which leads to seeing. Tasting allows the eyes to be opened. Just as the tasting of the forbidden fruit in Paradise once "opened the eyes" in a fateful manner, so too it is true here in the opposite sense that tasting what is true also "opens the eyes," so that one realizes and "sees" God's goodness. Seeing takes place only in coming into Jesus' abode. There can be no vision without the hazard of approaching, of "coming." St. Johweven notes that "it was about the tenth hour" (1:39), in other words very lat~, a time at which one would think it no longer possible to make a beginning--and yet an hour at which urgent and decisive events do take place. According to some apocalyp-tic calculations, the tenth hour is considered the hour of the "last days."3 He who comes to Jesus enters the definitively final age; he makes contact with the already present reality of the Resurrection and of the kingdom of God. "Seeing," therefore, takes place when one '~approaches," and John the Evangelist makes this clear in the same fashion that we noted in St. Luke's account. When Jesus addressed them, the two responded by calling him "Rabbi." But when they return from staying with him, Andrew tells his brother Simon, "We have found the Messiah, the Christ" (Jn 1:14). In approaching Jesus ~and remaining with him, Andrew had traveled the path from "Rabbi" to "ChriSt," he had learned to see the Christ in the te~icher--and this is somethingwhich can only be learned in "abiding." Thus does the inner unity of the third and fourth Gospels become evident: both times the experi-ment of living "on'the strength of his Word" is undertaken, and both times the interior pilgrimage follows a course which permits vision, "seeing," to arise out of "coming." All of us began our joul-ney with the Church's full profession of faith in God's Son. But such an approach "~n the strength of his word," such an entering into his abode, is in our own case, too, the precondition for our vision or "seeing." And he alone is capable of calling others who is himself able to see cleai'ly, instead of merely believing at second hand. This coming or approach, this venturing out "on the strength of his Word" is, today and always, the indispensable prerequisite of the apostolate of priestly ministry. Again and again we shall find it necessary to ask him: "Where are you staying?" Over and over again it will be necessary to approach Jesus' abode from within. Again and again we shail have to let down the nets on the strength of his woi'd, even when it seems quite pointless. It is constantly necessary to regard his Word as more real than all that we otherwise would consider valid: statistics, technol-ogy, public opinion. Often it will seem as though the tenth hour had already On the Strength of His Word / 645 struck, and we shall have to postpone the hour of Jesus. But in precisely this way it can become the hour of his nearness. The two Gospel accounts have some other traits in common. St. John depicts the two disciples as being struck by the Baptist's proclamation of the Lamb. They obviously know from experience that they are sinners. For them this is not some sort of alien religious phraseology, but rather something that stirs them from within, something that is very real to them. Since they realize this about themselves, the Lamb becomes a sign of hope for them, and this is why they begin to follow him. Something quite unexpected occurs when Peter returns to shore with his great catch of fish. We might have expected him to embrace Jesus because of the successful fishing operation, but instead Peter falls on his knees. He does not hold fast to (he Savior in order to possess a future guarantee of success, but actually tries to drive him away because he fears the power of God: "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man!" (Lk 5:8). Where man experiences God, there he recognizes his own sinfulness, and it is. only when he really knows that he is sinful--and has grasped the malice of sin--that he.also .comprehends the call to "repent,~ and believe the Gospel!" (Mk 1:15). Without conversion, it is not possible to press forward to Jesus and to the. Gospel. There is a paradox of Chesterton's which expresses this rela-tionship quite accurately: one can recognize a saint by the fact that he knows he is a sinner.4 The fact that our experience of God has grown pale is evident today in the disappearance of our experiential awareness of our sin; and vice versa: the disappearance of this knowledge alienates us all the more from God. Without falling into a false anxiety, we should once again learn the wisdom of the psalmist's word: lnitium sapientiae timor DorninL Wisdom, genuine under-standing, begins with the correct fear of the Lord. We must once more learn this fear in order to acquire true love and to grasp what it means to be able to love him--and to grasp as well .that he loves us. Hence this experience of Peter, of Andrew and of John is a basic prerequisite for the apostolate and thus also for the priesthood. Conversion--the very first word of Christian-ity-- can be preached only by one who has himself been touched by its neces-sity and therefore has grasped the greatness of grace. In these fundamental elements of the spiritual path of the apostolate which are becoming evident here, are the outlines of the basic sacramental structure of the Church, and indeed of the priestly ministry itself, also becoming clearer. If the sacraments of baptism and penance correspond to the experience of sin, then the mystery of the Eucharist corresponds to "coming" and "becoming perceptive," to entering into the abode of Jesus. Indeed, in a sense which we could previously not even imagine, the Eucharist is Jesus' abiding with us. "There you shall see"---the Eucharist is the place where the promise to Natha-nael applies, where we can see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending (Jn 1:51). Jesus dwells and "abides" in his sacrifice, in that act 646 / Review for Religious, Sept:-Oct., 1984 of love with which he conveys himself to the Father, and through his vicarious love he also gives us back to the Father. The communion psalm whi~:h speaks about tasting and seeing also says: "Come ye to him and be enlightened" ([Douay] Ps 33:6). Communion with Christ means communication with the true light that enlightens every man who comes into this world (see Jn l:9)P Let us consider another point common to both gospel accounts. The superabundant catch of fish begins to burst the nets. Peter and his crew cannot master the situation. Thus we read in Luke 5:7 that they signaled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. "And they came and filled both the boats, so that they began to sink." The call of Jesus is simultaneously a calling together, a call to syllabbsthai, as the Greek text puts it: "to take hold of together," to stick together and assist one another, to combine the efforts of both boats. St. John's Gospel expresses the same idea. Returning from his hour with Jesus, Andrew cannot remain silent about what he has found. He calls his brother Simon to Jesus, and the very same thing happens to Philip, who in his turn calls Nathanael (Jn 1:41-5). Vocation tends toward together-ness. Vocation makes disciples of us, and cries out to be passed on. Every vocation has a human element as well: the element of brotherliness, of being stimulated by another person. When we think back over our own lives, each of us knows that he was not struck by a thunderbolt direct from heaven, but that at some point he had to be spoken to by a person of faith, to be borne up or carried by.others. Of course a vocation cannot persevere if we believe only at second hand, "because So-and-So. says so." Perseverance is possible only if, led by our brethren, we ourselves find Jesus (see Jn 4:42). Both aspects necessarily belong together: being led, being spoken to, being ¯ carried, just as much as our own "coming and seeing." It therefore seems to me that we ghould once again develop much more courage to address one another, to speak to one another, and not ,to deprecate positive reactions to the testimony of others. As one of faith's components, "neighborliness" belongs to ihe humaneness of believing, and within this framework one's own encounter with Jesus must mature. Hence it is not only "taking along" and "leading toward" which are important, but release as well, abandonment to the distinctive aspects of a special call--even when these special aspects turn out to be different from what we had intended for the person concerned. In St. Luke's account, these insights are broadened out into a complete vision of the Church. James and John, the sons of Zebedee, are there called koinonoi of Simon, which here must be translated as "partners?' In other words, these three are described as a fishing partnership or cooperative, with Peter as head and principal owner.6 And it is first of all this group which Jesus calls, the koinonia (fellowship or communio), the partners in Peter's coopera-tive. In Simon's call, however, his profane vocation is reformed into an image of the new which is to come. The fishing partnership becomes the communio On the Strength of His Word or fellowship of Jesus, and Christians will form the eommunio of this new fishing boat, united by the call of Jesus and by the miracle of grace, which bestows the riches of the sea after long and hopeless nights. Just as they are united in the gift, they are also united in their joint mission. St. Jerome gives a beautiful interpretation of the title "fishers of men" which actually be~longs in the context of an inner transformation of Peter's profession into a vision of what is to come.7 Jerome says that to draw fish out of the water.means to tear them away from the n~tural element in which they live and thus to deliver them up to death. But to draw men out of the water of this world means to withdraw them from deadly surroundings and from a starless night, giving them instead air to breathe and the light of heaven. It means transferring men into the natural environment in which they can live and which is simultaneously light, enabling them to see the truth. Eight is life, because the natural element or environment from which man lives at the very deepest level is truth, which is simultaneously love. Of course, the man who swims in the waters of the world does not know this. Hence he resists being drawn up out of the water. It is as though he believes he were an ordinary fish which must die when pulled up out of the depths. And as a matter of fact. it ~s indeed a death sentence. But this death leads into the true life in which a man really arrives at being himself. To be a disciple means to let oneself be "caught" by Jesus, by the mysterious fish which descended into the water of this world, indeed, into the water of death; who himself,became a fish in order to allow himself first to be caught by us, so as to become the Bread of Eife for us. He allows himself to be caught so that we can be caught by him, and find the courage to let ourselves be pulled along with him out of the waters of our habits and comforts. Jesus became a fisher of men by taking the night of the sea upon himself, by himself descending into the Passion of its depths. One can only become a fisher of men when one applies oneself to the task the way Jesus did. And furthermore, one can only become a fisher of men when one trusts in the bark of Peter, when one has entered into fellowship or communio with,Peter. A vocation is not a private matter, merely taking up the cause of Jesus at one's own expense. The field of a vocation is the entire Church, which can exist only in f~llowship with Peter and thus with the apostles of Jesus Christ. Priestly Spirituality~ in Psalm 16 (15) Since I want to stress the unity of both Testaments in'Scripture, the second passage I wish to discuss is taken from the Old Testament, from Psalm 16 (or 15, according to the Greek enumeration). We older priests once used the fifth verse of this psalm almost like a motto for what we had undertaken when we were made clerics in the rite of tonsure. Every time this psalm recurs (it is now part of Compline on Thursdays) 1 am reminded how I tried at that time to comprehend the rite of tonsure itself by imderstanding this text, so that, once 6tll~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct. 1984 understood, I could carry out and live the rite. Thus, this verse became a precious beacon for me, and it remains today a symbol of what it means to be a priest, and of how priestly existence is realized. The Vulgate text reads: Dominus pars hereditatis meae et calicis rnei. ~ Tu es qui restitues hereditatern meam rnihi. The Lord is the portion of my inheritance and of my cup: It is thou that wilt restore my inheritance to me. This sentence makes Concrete what had been said earlier in verse 2: "I have no good beyond Thee!" and it do+s so in a very worldly turn Of phrase, in a pragmatic context that does not appear to be theological at all--in the lan-guage of the occupation and distribution of land in Israel as this is described in the book of Joshua and in the Pentateuch.s The priestly tribe of Levi was not a party to the distribution of the land among the tribes of Israel. The Levite ¯ received no land because "the Lord himself is his possession" (Dt 10:9; see also Jos 13:14) and "I [Yahweh] am thy portion and inheritance" (Nb 18:20). In this passage it is primarily the concrete matter of sustenance which is being dealt with: the Israelites live from the land which is assigned them. The land forms the physical basis of their existence. Through the possession of land, therefore, each individual has, so to speak, his very life apportioned to him. It is only the priests who receive their livelihood, not from tilling their own soil, but from Yahweh himself who is their sole source of life, even of physical life. To put it concretely, the priests live from their portion of the sacrificial victims.and the other cult offerings, in other words from that which has been given over'to God and in which they, as ritual ministers, are entitled to share. Thus two different types of physical livelihood are first of all expressed hire, but both of them neces~sarily lead to a deeper level when viewed from the standpoint of Israel's typical thinking in terms of totality. For the individual Israelite, the land is not merely a guarantee of support. It is his way of participating in the promise which God gave to Abraham and thus his inti-mate involvement in the God-given context in which the Chosen People live their lives. It thus simultaneously becomes the warrant of sharing in God's own vital power. The Levite, in contrast, possesses no land, and in that sense remains without security because he is excluded from earthly guarantees. He is directly and immediately "cast upon Yahweh" and upon him alone, as Psalm 22 says (verse 10). Although in the case of the occupation of the land the guarantee of life can somehow be disconnected from God--at least in the superficial sense of offering an independent type .of security, so to speak--this is impossible in the Levitical form of life: There, God alone is quite directly the warrant of life-- even one's earthly, physica! life depends upon him. If worship were to cease, the very basis of physical life would also disappear. And thus .the life of the Levite isat once p~-ivilege and hazard. Proximity to God in the sanctuary is the sole and direct source and focus of life. On the Strength of His Word / 649 At this point, I think a digression is in order. The terminology of verses five and six is plainly that of the occupation of the land and the different type of sustenance allotted to the tribe of Levi. This means that our psalm' is the song of a priest who expresses therein the physical and spiritual center of his life. The person praying here has not merely interpreted the legal stipula-tions- the external lack of properly, and the living from and for worship in the sense of a certain type of guaranteed livelihood--but has lived all of this in the direction of its real foundation. He has spiritualized the law, gone beyond it toward Christ, precisely by realizing its true content. For us, two things are important about this psalm. First of all, it is a priestly prayer, and secondly, we can here clearly observe how the" Old Testa-ment internally surpasses itself in the direction of Christ, how the Old Cove-nant approaches the New and thus renders visible the unity of salvation history~ To live, not from possessions but from the cult, means for this wor-shipper to live in God's presence, .to locate his existence in the interior approach to him. In this regard, Hans-Joachim Kraus quite rightly points out ¯ that in thiS text the Old Testament reveals the beginnings of a mystical com-munion with God which develops out of the special nature of the Levitical prerogatives? And so Yahweh himse]-f~aa~ becpme the "land" of the worshipper praying this psalm. The next verses clarify what this means in terms of concrete, everyday life. Verse 8 says: "I have set the Lord. always before me." Accord-ingly, the suppliant lives in God's presence; he keeps the Lord constantly before himself. The next phrase varies the same idea by saying: "For he is on my right hand." The core content of these Levitical prerogatives thus proves to be the bei.ng in God's company, the knowing that God is at one's side, asso-ciatirig with him, contemplating him and beipg contemplated by him. Thus God .actually becomes the "land" or the "landscape" of one's own life; thus we dwell and "abide" with him. And at this point the psalm makes contact with what we discovered earlier in .St. John's Gospel. Accordingly, to be a priest means to come to him, to his abode, and thus to learn how to see; to abide in his abode. The precise manner in which this occurs becomes more tangible in the verses which follow. Here, the priest praying the psalm praises the Lord for having "given him counsel," and he thanks the Lord because he has "inst_ructed him:in the night season." With this turn of phrase, both Septuagint and Vulgate texts are plainly thinking of the physical pain which "instructs" men. Education or "instruction" is conceived as a person "being bent into the proper shape" for a truly human existence, and this cannot take place without suffering, In this context, the term "instruction" is intended to be a compre-hensive expression .for leading man to salvation, for that series of transforma, tions ~by which we are changed from clay into the image of God, and thus become capable of eternal union with him. The external rod of the disciplinar-ian is here replaced by the sufferings of life in which God leads us and brings 650 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 us to dwell with him. All of this recalls that great psalm, of:God's Word, Ps. 119, which we now pray during the week in the hora media. It is actually constructed around the basic statement of the Levite'sexistence: "The Lord is my portion" (v. 57; see also v. 14). Thus we find in abundant variety the basic ideas in which Psalm 16 expounds this reality: "Thy testimor~ies., are my counselors" ( 119: v. 24); "it is good :forme that 1 was afflicted, that 1 might learn thy statutes" (.v. 71); "I know, O Lord, that thyjudgments are right, and that in faithfulness thou hast afflicted me" (v. 75). Only then can one grasp the profundity of that petition which recurs like a refrain throughout the psalm: "O teach me thy statutes!" (vv. 12, 26, 29, 33, 64). Wherever life is so truly centered upon God's Word, there it comes about that the Lord "counsels" us. The words of' Scripture are no longer some remote generalities,~but speak quite directly into my life. The Scriptur.es step out of the distance of history and become words addressed to me in person. "The Lord is my counselor"i my very life becomes a word of his. And thus Psalm 16:11 comes true: "Thou dost show me the path of life." Life ceases to bea dark m'ystery. We begin to grasp what it means "to live?' Life opens itself up, and in the midst of all the tribulation of "being instructed," it becomes a joy. "Thy Statutes are.my songs," says Psalm i 19:54, and here in Psalm 16 the situation is not different: "Therefore my heart is glad and my soul rejoices" (v. 9); "In thy presence there is fullness of joy, in thy right hand are pleasures for evermore" (v. II). When we succeed in reading the Old Testament in the light of its central core, and accept God's Word as the landscape of life, then we touch upon him whom we believe to be God'siliving Word. To me it seems~no mere accident that in the ancient Church this psalm became the great prophecy of the Resurrection, a description of the new David and of the definitive priest Jesu~ Christ. To learn to li~,e does not mean to inaster some sort of technique, but rather it ineans to pass beyond death. The mystery of Jesus Christ, his death and his resurrection rise resplendent wherever the suffering of the word and its indestructible 61an vital are experienced. It is therefore unnecessary to make any more applications to our own spirituality. A fundamental component of priestly existence is something resembling the Levite's "apartness," his lack of land, his being ci~st exclusively upon God. The vocation account in St. Luke which we considered earlier closes with the pointed words: "They forsook fill and followed him" (Lk 5:! I). There is no priesthood without such an act of abandonment. Without this sign of uncompromising freedom, the call to imitation is impossible. l think that this point of view renders highly significant, Jindeed makes indispensable, celibacy as being the abandonmerit of an earthly land of future promise, of life in one's own family, so that the basic state of being delivered up to God alone remains intact and becomes quite concrete. This, of course, implies that celibacy m]akes demands on one's entire lifestyle. Celibacy cannot On (he Strength of His Word / 651 fulfill its purpose if, in all other areas, we simply follow the rules of possession and procedure customary in life today. And above all, celibacy cannot last if we do not positively make "settling down with God" to be the center of our lives. Both Psalm 16 and Psalm 119 strongly.emphasize the need for constant meditative association with the Word of God, which cannot become our "homestead" in any other way. The community aspect of liturgical piety which necessarily belongs here is suggested by the reference in Psalm 16 to the Lord as "my cup" (v. 5). In Old Testament diction, this surely refers either to the cup of wine which went r~und at cultic meals, or to the cup of fate, the cup of anger or, of salvation.J0 In this prayer, the priest of the New Testament can find a sp~ci,al reference to that chalice through which the Lord has become our "land" in the most profound sense: the eucharistic chalice in which he distributes himself as our life. Priestly life in God's presence is thus concretized as life in the eucharistic mystery. At bottom the Eucharist is the "land" which has become our portion and of which we may weffsay: "The lines have fallen for ine in pleasant places; yea I have a goodly heritage" (v. 6). And here, two remarks, of fundamental importance emerge. Two Basic Conclusions from th~ Scriptural Texts The Unity of the Two Testaments ~. In my view, aparticularly important aspect of this priestly prayer of the Old and the New Covenant is the fact that here the. inner unity of the two Testaments, the unity of biblical spirituality and its basic manifestations in life, become visible, indeed capable of being lived out in practice. This is so signifi-cant because one of the principal reasons for the exegetically and theologically motivated crisis of the priest's image in recent~times has been precisely the separation of the. Old Testament from the New: Their relationship was seen only in the dialectical tension of opposites, namely "Law" and "Gospel." It was generally agreed that the New Testament ministries had nothing at all to do with the offices in the Old Testament. The fact that one would[ portray the Catholic concept of priesthood as a reversion to the Old Testament was itself regarded as an ironclad refutation of the Catholic idea. It was claimed that Christology meant the definitive abolition of all kinds, of priesthood, the destruction of the boundaries between the Sacred and ~he Profane, and the renunciation of the significance of any history of religions and their ideas of priesthood. Wherever it was possible to point out links between the Church's concept ofothe priest and the OJd Testament, or ideas borrowed from the history of religions, this was done as a sign that Christianity had gone astray in.the ecclesiastical ai'ea; it was urged as proof against the Church's doctrine on the priesthood. But this in fact meant that we were cut off from an entire stream of sources, from biblical piety and indeed from human experience itself. It meant that we were banished into a worldliness whose rigid "Christo-monism" 659 / Review for ReligiousI Sept.-Oct., 1984 actually dissolved 'the biblical image of Christ. This .in .turn is related to the fact that the Old Testament itself had been falsely construed as ~etting forth an opposition between "Law" and "Prophets," whereby "Law" was identified with the cultic and the priestly, while the "Prophetic" element was equated with criticism of cult; and with a pure ethics of humanitarianism that finds God in one's neighbor, not in the Temple. On this basis it was of course possible to refer to thi~ cultic element as "legalism" in contrast to prophetic piety, which was characterized ~is "faith in grace." The result was that the New Testam+nt was relegated to the realm of the anti-cultic, of the purely'humanitarian. In view of this basic attitude, every approach to priesthood :ffas condemned to remain fruitless and unconvincing. The real discussion with this entire~ complex of ideas has not yet taken place. He who prays°the priestlyPsalm 16 along with the other related psalms, especially Psalm 119, will become quite aware of the factthat the supposed ,opposition in principle between priesthood and prophecy of Christology simply collapses upon itself~ This psalm is in fact both fi priestly and a pro-phetic prayer, in which the purest and most profound elements of prophetic piety come to the fore~-but as priestly piety. Since this is so, the psalm is a Christological text. Since this is so, Christianity has since its earliest days regarded this psalm as a prayer of Jesus Christ, which he dedicates anew to us so that we may be permitted to pray it anew with him(see Rv 2:25-29). In this psalm, the new priesthood of Jesus Christ expresses itself prophetically, and in this psalm we can see how in the New Covenant the priesthood, proceeding from Christ, continues to exist in the unity of all salvation history, and indeed must continue to exist~ On the basis of this psalm we can understand that the Lord does not abolish the Law but fulfills it and conveys it anew to the Church, truly "storing it away" in the Church as an expression of grace. The Old Testament belongs to Christ, and in Christ, to us. The faith can live only in the Unity of the Testaments. The Sacred' and th~ Profane And that brings me tO my secofid remark. Once we regain the Old Testament, we must also overcome the disparagement of the Sacred and the mys-tique of the Profane. Naturally Christianity is a l~aven, and the Sacred is not something closed and final but something dynamic. Every priest has been commissioned to "Go, the~refore, and make-disciples of all nations!" (Mt ¯ 28:19). But this dynamism of being sent out, this inner openness and breadth of the Gospel cannot be transposed into the slogan: "Go ye therefore and yourselves become part of the world! Go ye into the world and confirm it in its worldliness!" The contrhry is the.case. The~:e is a sacred mystery of God, the mustard seed of the Gospel, which is not identical with the world but is rather destined to penetrate the whole world. Hence we'must Once more find the courage to acknowledge the Sacred, the courage to distinguish what is Chris-tian-- and that, not in order to separate or to differentiate, but to transform, to On the Strength of His Word /653, be truly dynamic. In an interview given in 1975, Eugene lonescu, a founder of the "Theatre of the Absurd," expressed this with the total passion typical 6f the thirsty, seeking men of our day. 1 quote a few sentences: The Church does not want to lose her customers, she wants to gain new ones. That results in a type of secularization, which is really miserable . The~world is losing itself and the Church loses itself in the world, the parish priests ate stupid and mediocre, leftist petty bourgeois. I have heard a parish priest say in chu.rch, "Let's be happy, let's all shake hands . Jesus wishes each of you a very good day!" It will not be long until someone sets up a bar for communion of bread and wine, and servessandwiches-and Boujolais. To me, that seems unbelievable stupidity and com-pletely non-spiritual. Brotherliness is neither mediocrity nor fraternization. We need the Supra-Temporal, because what is religion or the Sacred? All that remains is nothing; nothing solid, everything is in motion. What we really need, though, is a rock;" In this connection I recall some of the stimulating sentences to be found in Peter Handke's new work, Over the Villages. For example: "Nobody wants us, and nobody ever wanted us. Our houses are trellises of despair standing in emptin~:ss . . . We are not on the wrong road, we are not on any road at all. How forsaken mankind is."~2 I believe that when one hears these voices--voices of men who quite consciously live in the world of today, living, suffering; singing--then it becomes clear that one cannot serve this world with banal officiousness. Such a world does not need corroboration, it needs transformation--the radicality~ of the Gospel. A Concluding Thought: Giving and Receiving (Mk 10:28-31) By way of conclusion, 1 would like to touch briefly upon one more text: Mk 10:28-31. There, Peter says to' Jesus, "Lo, we have left everything and followed you." St. Matthew makes explicit what was obviously the point of the question: "What then shall we have?" (19:27)~ We have already spoken about relinquishing or abandoning, which is an indispensable element of apostolic, priestly spirituality. Let us therefore turn at once to Jesus' astonishi'ng reply. He does not rejrct Peter's question out of hand, as one might expect~ He does not reproach Peter because he expects a reward, but rather admits that Peter is right: "Truly, 1 say to you, there is no one who has left house, or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for my sake and for the Gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses, and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life" (Mk 10:29-30). God is magnanimous, and if we look at our lives honestly, then we know that he has indeed repaid every abandonment a hundredfold. He will not allow us to surpass him in generosity. He does not wait for. the world to come in order to repay, but even now gives in return a hundred to one, though in spite of this the world remains the scene of persecutions, sufferings and tribu- 654 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 lations. St. Teresa of Avila expressed this statement of Jesus in the simple formula: "Even in this life, God repays a hundredfold,"~3 All we need is the courage to b~gin by giving our "one,"as Peter did when, on the strength of the Lord's word, he put out once again in the morning--he gave one, and received back a hundred. And so I think that in all our pusillanimity we should constantly beg our Lord for this same courage, and for the faith and confidence that lie therein. And we should thank him for those upon whom he has bestowed this courage, those whom he gives to us as signs of encouragemefit, in Order to invite us to make ouy own leap into the hands of his mercy. NOTES ~From the vast literature on "lrenaeus and Gnosis" see most recently H. J. J~schke, Irenaeus yon Lyon "Die ungeschminkte Wahrheit"(Roma, 1980). 2For the following remarks concerning John 1:35-42. 1 am indebted to the fundamental sugges-tions of C. M. Martini, "Damit ihr Frieden habt. Geistliches Leben nach dem Johannesevange-lium" (Freiburg 1982), pp. 204-9. 31bid, p. 207. 4Cited by ,,Cardinal Suenens "Renouveau et puissance des t~n~bres," Document de Marines 4 (1982), p. 60. On this subject see pp. 37-61 in Suenens" book as well as K. Hemmerle, ~Das Haus des barmherzigen Vaters" (Freiburg. 1982), pp. 17-25. 5The standard translation renders Ps 33:6 (34:5), in light of the Hebrew text, as "look tohim and be radiant," whereas the Lalin Vulgate, following the Septuagint, renders it "Come ye to him and be enlightened." It was precisely the phrase "ye shall be enlightened" which called forth a very strong echo in the philosophy and theology of the Church Fathers, and we are quite justified in regarding this verse in the Septuagint version as one of the key phrases of Christian liturgy and theology. We are of course confronted here with the question of the specific rank to be attributed to the Greek Old Testament. This problem must be reflected upon anew. Noteworthy in this regard is H. Gese, 'tZur biblischen Theologic" (MLinchen 1977), pp. 9-30, esp. 27 ft., and see also P. Benoit, "Exegese und Theol0gie" (Dfisseldorf 1965), pp. 15-22. ~On this see F. Hauck, Koinon~s Ktl.: TWNT 3(1938), pp. 798-810, here especially pp 799, 802, 804. 7JerOme, "In Ps 141," ad neophytos. CChr 78, p. 544. sOn what follows, see H. J. Kraus, "Psalmen I" (Neukirchen-Vluyn 1960), pp. 118-27. '~lbid. p. 123: ~°See H. Gross-H. Reinelt, "Das Buch der Psalmen I" (Diisseldorf 1978)~ pp. 88 ft. ~E. Ionescu, ~Gegengiffe~ (Miinchen, 1979), pp. 158,159. ~2P. Handke, "~lber die Drrfer (Frankfurt, 1981), p~. 94 ft. ~3"Libro de vida," 22/I~ and see U.M. Schiffers, ~Gott liebt beherzte Seelen," Pastoralblat! 34 (1982), p. 294. We Priests Are More Necessary Than Ever John Paul H In the month of February, Pope John Paul twice took up themes of priesthood. Frorfi Februa.ry 13-16, some four hundred priests attended a national convention addressed to the theme, "The Eucharist and the Problems of the Life of Priests Today," spofisored by the Italian Episcopal Conference's Commission for the Clergy, on the last day of which the Holy Father addressed the cqngregants. , ~ ~ Then, on February 23, 1984, to conclude a special Holy Year celebration with priests, the Holy Faiher ¢oncelebrated Mass in St. Peter's Basilica with more than four thousand priests and bishops from, all over the world. This Mass was also marked by a renewal of commitment on the part of all present. The texts of these addresses appeared originally in L'Osservatore Romano, 5 March, 1984. pp. 6 and 8. Beloved Priests: Among the satisfactions that I have been granted to experience during the course of this Jubilee Year, one of the greatest is to be able to meet with the members of the ;clergy, with my confreres.in the priesthood. Very gladly, therefore, in welcoming the request of the organizers of your convention, I am here among you to let you know in a tangible way that the pope is near you, follows you in your work, shares your joys, your anxieties, your fears, at such a significant time for the life of the Church. Your meeting in Rome has taken, place in the deeply spiritual climate of this year of grace that is now approaching its end, and I sincerely rejoice in knowing that you have been engaged during these days in reflection on a theme of such great common interest, "The Eucharist and the Problems of the Life of Priests Today," a theme intended to foster that ever greater commu- ,656/ Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct, 1984 nion of sentiments and works, that spreading of ideas, that ,exchange and comparison of experiences, which today especially are indispensable for adapting, the exercise of the priestly ministry to the needs, the aspirations, and the development of the ecclesial community. To you, therefore, my greeting, my encouragement and my blessing. But you ce~rtainly are expecting also a word about the specific Subject of your reflections in order to know, through the pope's voice what the Church expects of you today, that you might live ever more effectively and authenti-cally the gift of yourse.lves to the Lord and to souls. This I will very gladly do, expressing to you above all my appreciation for "the objective of your conventiori, which very opportunely coincides with the aim of the Jubilee Year, whose goal, namely, to profit in a more intense way from the benefits of ~he Redemption, is none other than a new, urgent appeal to conversion addressed to all the faithful, and in. particular to priests. If conversion for a priest means returning to the grace of his vocation it-self' in order continually to rediscover the dimensions of the priesthood and to acquire new thrust in his evangelical dynamism,, what greater theme for ~eflection can be offered than the one which makes us bet'ter understand the vital and pr~ofound relationship that unites the priesthood to the Eucharist and the Eucharist to the priesthood? The priest cannot be understood without the Eucharist. The Eucharist is the reaSon for our priesthood. We are born priests in" the eucharistic celebra~.t~on. Our principal ministry and power is oi'dered to the E~cha~:ist. The Eucharist could not exist without us; but without the Eucharist we do not exist, or we are r.educed to lifeless shadows. The priest therefore can never r.e~ach complete fulfillment if the Eucharist does not become the center and root of his .life, so that all his activity is nothing but an,irradiation of the Eucharist. It is important to recall these truths at a time when we hear insidious voices that tend to disregard the primacy of God and of spiritual values in the life and activity 6f the priest. And this happens in the name of adjusting to.the times--which instead is conforming to the spirit of the world, sowing doubts and uncertainties about the true nature of the priesthood, its primary func-tions, its right place, in society. ,Beloved brothers, never let yourselves be influenced'by these theories. Never believe that the yearning for intimate conversation with the eucharistic Je.sus, the hours spent on your knees before the tabernacle, will halt or slow down the dynamism of your ministry. The exact opposite is true.What is given to God is never lost for man. The profound demands of spirituality and the priestly ministry remain substantially unchanged throughout the centuries, and tomorrow, just as today, they will have their fulcrum and their reference point in the eucharistic mystery. It is the grace of ordination that gives the priest the sense Of spiritual fatherhood, through which he presents himself to souls as a father and leads Priests are Necessary / 657 them along the path to heaven. But it is eucharistic love that daily renews his fatherhood and makes it fruitful, transforming him ever more into Christ and like Christ, makes him become the bread of souls, their priest, yes, but also their victim, because for them he is gladly consumed in imitation of him who gave his life for the salvation of the world. In other words, a priest is as good as his eucharistic life, his Mass above all. A Mass without love, a sterile priest. A fervent Mass, a priest who wins souls. Eucharistic devotion neglected and estranged,a priesthood that is in danger and fading. But the centrality of the Eucharist in the life of the priest goes well beyond the sphbre of personal devotion. It constitutes the directing criterion, the permanent dimension of all his pastoral activity, the indispensable means for the authentic renewal of the Christian people. The Second Vatican Council wisely reminds us: "No Christian community can be built up unless it has its basis and center in the celebration of the Most Holy Eucharist. Here, there-fore, all education in the spirit ofcommunity must originate" (Decree Presby-terorum Ordinis, 6): Therefore, if we want Christian love to be a reality in life;,if we want Christians to be a community united in the apostolate and in,the common attitude of resistance to the powers of evil; if we want ecclesial communion to become .an authentic place of encounter, of hearing the Word of God, of .revision of life, of becoming aware of the problems of the Church, every effort must ,be made to give the eucharistic celebration its entire power to express, the event of the salvation of the community. This involves a pastoral program-mingthat will'incorporate the Eucharist into.the dynamics proper to human life, to .personal land communal living: A good catechesis would certainly render the ecclesial community a great service by shedding light on and exter-nalizing the lifestream that exists between the Mass celebrated in Church and the Mass lived out in one's daily commitments,. This is how the eucharistic celebration will be the expression of the living faith of a community that discovers and relives ithe experience of the disciples on the way to Emmaus who recognize their LoCd and master in the breaking of bread (Lk 24:3 I). This is the witness that the Church demands of you today; beloved priests. Always offer this witness readily and generously, in serenity and happiness. It is a beautiful thing.that this commitment is reaffirmed by -you here before the pope, in response to the common expectations of the Jubilee Year, so fruitful in graces. I encourage you to resume your work in the sacred ministry with a spirit of faith and sacrifice: I will pray for you to Mary most holy, Queen of Apostles, that she will help you to persevere in your holy .resolutions, and as she proclaimed the greatness of the Lord through the gift of the Savior and kept every word in her heart and served him with love and complete dedication, so may you also beable to express your joy in thanksgiving for the Eucharist you celebrate by ever.more deeply rooting your life andyour apostolate in it. With my apostolic Blessing. 658 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 II The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good tidings to the afflicted; He has sent meto bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captivesr and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor (Is 61:1-2). Dear, brothers in the grace of the Sacrament of the Priesthood: A year ago I addressed to you the letter for Holy Thursday (1983), asking you to proclaim, together with myself and all the bishops of the Chu. rch, the Year of the R(demption: the extraordinary Jubilee, the Year of the Lord's Favor. Today I wish to thank you for what you have done in order to ensure that this Year, which recalls to us the 1950th anniversary of the Redemption should really be "the Year of the Lord's Favor," the Holy Year. At the same time, as I meet you.at this concelebration, the climax of your Jubilee pilgrim-age to Rome, 1 wish to renew.with you and make still more vivid the aware-ness of.the mystery of the Redemption. the livingand life-giving source of the sacramental priesthood in which each one of us shar~es. In you who have gathered here, no.t only from Italy but also from other countries and continents, I see all priests: the entire presbyterate of the univer, sal Church. And I address myself to all with the words of encouragementoand exhortation of the Letter to the Ephesians: Brothers, "I. beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called" (Ep 4:1): We too--who have been called to serve others in the spiritual renewal of the Year of the Redemption, need to be renewed, throfigh the grace of the Year, in our blessed vocation. I will sing of your steadfast love, 0 Lord, forever (89:1). This verse of the responsorial psalm of today's liturgy reminds us that we are in a special way "servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God" (1 Co 4:!), that we are men of the divine economy of salvation, that we are conscious "instruments" of grace, that is of the Holy Spirit's action in the power of Chri.st's Cross and Resurrection. : . What is this divine economy, what is the grace, of our Lord Jesus. Christ-- the grace which it was his wish to link sacramentally to our priestly life and to our priestly service, even though it is performed by men who are so poor, unworthy? Grace, as the psalm of today's liturgy proclaims, is a proof of the fidelity of God himself to that eternal Love with,which he has loved creation, and in particular man, in his eternal Son. The psalm says: "For your steadfast love was established forever, your faithfulness is firm as the heavens" (Ps 89:2). This faithfulness of his love--his merciful love--is also faithfulness to the Covenant that God made from the beginning with man, and which he renewed many times, even though man so many times was not faithful to it. Priests are Necessary / 659 Grace is thus a .pure gift .of,Love, which only in Love itself, and in nothing else, finds its reason and motivation. The psalm exalts the Covenant which God made with David, and at the same time, through its messianic content, it shows how that historical Cove-nant is only a stage and a foretelling of the perfect Covenant in Jesus Christ: "He shall Cry to me, 'You are my Father, my God, and the Rock of my salvation~'" (Ps 89:26). Grace, as a gift, is the foundation of the elevation of man to the dignity of an adopted child of God in Christ, the only-begotten Son. "My faithfulness and my steadfast love shall be with him and in my name shall his power be exalted" (Ps 89:24). Precisely this power that makes us become children of God, as is spoken of in the Prologue to Saint John's Gospel--the enti~:e salvific powder--is con-ferred upon humanity in Christ, in the Redemption, in the Cross and Resurrection. And we--Christ's servants--are its stewards. The priest: the man of the economy of salvation. The priest: the man formed by grace. The priest: the steward of grace! I will sing of your steadfaJt love, 0 Lord, forever. Our vocation is precisely this. In this consists the specific nature, the originality of the priestly vocation. It is in a special wayrooted in the mission of Christ himself, Christ the Messiah. "The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the afflicted; he has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound., to comfort all who mourn~' (Is 61:!-2). In the very heart of this messianic mission of Christ the Priest is rooted in our vocation and mission too: the vocation and mission of.the priests of the New and Eternal Covenant, It is. the vocation and mission of the proclaimers of the Good News: - of those who must bind up the wounds of human hearts; - of those who must proclaim liberation in the midst of all the many afflictions, in the .rriidst of the evil that in so many ways "holds" man prisoner; , - of those who must console. This is our vocation and mission as servants. Our vocation, dear brothers, includes a great and fundamental service to be offered to every human being.t Nobody can take our place. With the Sacrament of the New and Eternal Covenant we must go to the very roots of human existence on earth. Day by day, we must bring into that existence the dimension of the Redemption and the Eucharist. We must strengthen awareness of divine filiation through grace. And what higher prospect, what finer destiny could there be for man than this? 661~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct,. 1984 Finally, we must administer the sacramental reality of reconciliation with God, and the sacramental reality of Holy Communion, in which the deepest longing of the "insatiable" human heart is met. Truly, our priestly anointing isdeeply rooted in the very messianic anoint-ing of Christ. Our priesthobd is ministerial. Yes, we must serve. And "to serve" means to bring man to the very foundations of his humanity, to the deepest essence of his dignity. It is precisely there .that--through our service--the song "of praise instead of a faint spirit" must ring out,'to use once more the~words of the text of Isaiah (61:3). We Act with the Power of Christ Dearly beloved brothers! Day after day, year after year, we discover the content and substance which are truly inexpressible of our priesthood in the depths of the mystery of the Redemption. And I hope that the present Year of the extraordinary Jubilee will serve this purpose in a special way! Let us open our eyes ever wider--the eyes of our soul--in order to under-stand better what it means to celebrate the Eucharist, the sacrifice of Christ himself, entrusted to our priestly lips and hands in the community of the Church. Let us open our eyes ever wider--the eyes of our soul--in order to under-stand better what it means to forgive sins and reconcile human consciences with the infinite Holy God, with the God of Truth and Love. Let us open our eyes,ever wider--the eye~ of our soul--in order'to under-stand better what it means to act in persona Christi in the name of Christ: to act with his powers-with the power which, in a word, is rooted in the salvific ground .of the Redemption. Let us open our eyes ever ~wider--the eyes of our soul--in order to under-stand better what the mystery of the Church is. We are men of the Church! "There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the One hope that belongs to your call, one Lord,'one faith, one baptism,one 15od and Father of us all, who is above all and through all and in all" (Eph 4:4-6). Therefore: seek "to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace" (Eph 4:3). Yes. Precisely this in a special way depends on you: "to maintain the unity of the Spirit." At a time of great tensions that affect.,the earthly body of humanity, the Church's most important service springs frbm the ':unity of the Spirit," so that not only she herself will not suffer division coming from outside but she will also reconcile and unite people in the midst of the adversities 'that increase around them andwithin themselves in today's world. My brothers! To each of us "grace was given. ~ according to the measure of Christ's gift., for building up the body of Christ'~ (Ep 4:7-12). May we be faithful to this grace! May we be heroically faithful to this Priests are NecessaO, / ~ grace! My brothers! It is a great gift that°God has given to us, to each of us! So great that every priest can discover in himself the signs of a divine predilection. Let each one of us basically preserve his gift in all the wealth of its expressions: including the magnificent gift of celibacy voluntarily consecrated to the Lord--and received from him~for our sanctification and for the build-ing up of the Church. Christ is More Necessary Than Ever! Jesus Christ is in our midst and he says to us: "1 am the good shepherd" (Jn I0:I 1-14). It is precisely he who has "made" shepherds oLus too. And it is he who goes about all the cities and villages (see Mt 9:35), wherever we are sent in order to perform our priestly and pastoral service. It is he, Jesus Christ, who teaches ~!. : preaches the' Gospel of the kingdom and heals every human disease and infirmit3~'(see ibid), wherever we are sent for the service of the Gospel and the admihistration of the sacraments. It is precisely he, Jesus Christ, who ,continually feels compassion for the crowds and for every tired ahd exhaiasted person, like "sheep without a shep-herd" (see Mt 9:36). Dear brothers! In this. !liturgical assembly of ours let us ask Christ for just one thing: that each of' us may learn to serve better, more clearly and more effectively, his presence as Shepherd in the midst of the people of today's world! This is also most importan~t., for ourselves, ,so that~we may not be ensnared by ttie temptation of "uselessness," that is to :s0y.the temptation to feel that we are not needed. Because it is not true. We,~are more necessary than ever because Christ is more necessary than ever! We have in our hands--precisely in our "empty hands"---the power of the means of action that the Lord has given to us. Think of the~word of God, sharper than a twg-edged sword (see Heb 4:12); think of liturgical prayer, especially the Prayer of the. Hours, in which Christ himself prays with us and for us;' and think of the sacraments, in particular the sacrament of penance, the true life buoy for so many cofisciences, the haven towards which so many people also of our own time are striving. Priests should once more give great importance to,this sacrament, for the sake of their own spiritua.l life and that of the faithful. There is no doubt about it, dear br6thers: with the good use of these "poor means" (~bu! divinely powerful ones) you will see blossoming along your path the wonders of the infinite Mercy. And also the gift of new vocations! With this awareness, in this shared prayer, let us listen once more to the words which the Master addressed to his disciples: "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; pray therefore the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest" (Mr 9!37,38)~ 669 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 How relevant these words are in our time, too! So let us pray! And let the whole Church :pray with us! And in this pra.yer may there be manifested awareness, renewed by the Jubilee, of the mystery of the Redemption. Renewal of Priestly Promises During the concelebrated Holy Year Mass for priests, after the Pope's homily, the Hol.v Father led the priests in the renewal_of their priestly promises. Following is the form that was used. Dearly beloved brothers: Through a most special gift of Christ, teacher, priest and shepherd, you have been called to the Order of Priesthood. Every day you must make yourselves more worthy of this vocation of yours and renew your commit-ment to the service of the People of God. May the Spirit of Holiness always assist you, that you may be able .to fulfill with his help what through his gift you have promised with joy . Therefore, during this Jubilee celebration of the Holy YeAr of the Redemption, do you, ministers of Christ and administrators of the mysteries of God, recalling the day of youro,priestly ordination, intend to renew the promises you made before the bishop and the People of God? Priests: 1 do. Do you intend to unite yourselves intimately to the Lord Jesus, model of our priesthood, denying yofirselves and strengtfiening the commitments which,, urged by the love of Christ, you have freely assumed toward his Church? Priests: I do. Do you intend,, in particular, to strengthen the holy commitment of celi-bacy, as a testimony of iovb for Christ with an undivided heart .and as a guarantee of interior freedom for a fuller ecclesial service, in joyful e~xpectation of the kingdom promised? Priests: ! do. Do you intend to be faithful dispensers of the mysteries of God ihrough the celebration of the Eucharist and the other liturgical actions, and to fulfill the ministry of the Word of Salvation after the example of Christ, head and shepherd, letting yourselves be guided not by human interests, but by love for your brothers and sisters? Priests: 1 do. Then addressing the deacons and seminarians, the Holy Father asked: And you deacons and seminarians, who have generously accepted Christ's call to follow him more closely in order to become ministers of the New and Priests are Necessary/663 Everlasting Covenant. do you intend to persevere, with his help along the path you have undertaken? Deacons and Seminarians: 1 do. And the Holy Father asked the faithful present: And do you, dear faithful, do you intend to pray always for your priests, that the Lord may shower upon them the abundance of his gifts, that they may be faithful ministers of Christ the High Priest and lead you to him, the only source of salvation? Faithful: 1 do. Then to the whole assembly, the Holy Father said." Do you also intend to pray for me that I may be faithful to the apostolic service entrusted to my lowly person, and become among you more everyday a living and authentic image of Christ the High Priest and lead you to him, the only source of salvation? All: 1 do. The Holy Father then concluded: May the Lord keep us in his love and lead all us, shepherds and flock, to eternal life. All solemnly sang: Amen! Amen! Amen! Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development by Philip D. Cristantielio Price: $.60 per copy, plus postage. Add ress: Review for Religious Room 428 6301 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Cruciform Obedience Boniface Ramsey, O.P. This is the third of Father Ramsey's articles on the vows of religious perceived through a Christocentric focus. These three articles will be brought together and offered as a single reprint, the details of which are given elsewhereSn this issue. ~ , Father Ramsey continues to reside in the Dominican House of Studies; 487 Michigan Avenue~ N.E.: Washington, DC 20017~ n two previous issues of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS I discussed the vows of poverty and celibacy from a Christocentric perspective.~ In this issue I would like to complete a trilogy by speaking of obedience from very much the same~ perspective. Of the three great vows, there is little doubt that obedience is the most difficult both to execute and to reflect upon. Probably it has caused more suffering than either poverty or celibacy. For whereas th6 Struggle attendant upon poverty and celibacy may be waged complet~!.y withiia the person of the religious who is fighting to subdue his or her passions, ob~lience is the vow that, so to speak, intrudes another person (the superior) in(o the life of the religious--a person who, at least in times pa~t~ was understood to have a quasi-universal control over one's life. How often this control was abused, and on what flimsy pretexts! Even.the superior:s own sanctity was no guarantee that he or she might not act in the most arbitrary fashion. And from this arbitrariness there was usually little recourse. Small wonder that a desire to escape out from under the excessive "demands of obedience and to regain a sense of one's own independence has been the primary cause for many choosing to leave religious life. This is the case, moreover, even where obedience, is not objectively abusive, or even p~rceived as such, for obedience can hardly be perceived as not touching upon human autonomy, a strong rei~lization of which is absolutely necessary to proper human behavior and to self-respect. 664 Cruciform Obedience / 665 Frequently it happens that, when no other means of expression seems possible, this independence or autonomy is asserted by the religious through acts contrary to poverty or celibacy, which are then mistakenly understood to be the person's problem area. This suggests that obedience is the most basic of the vows, and indeed maybe it is. It is a classical teaching, in any event, that poverty and celibacy in fact touch upon rather narrower aspects of the human personality than does obedience? Whether this remains true even when poverty and celibacy are construed as broadly as 1 have tried to construe them in my two previous articles is a moot point. What is certain is that poverty and celibacy deal with relatively easily recognizable specifics, whereas obedience is occupied with something far less tangible, or at least with an area of our nature with which we are much less familiar--or are much more hesitant to face. It must be said from the start that the reason why obedience is so difficult is that human life is so radically marked by disobedience. "1 find it to be a law," Paul writes in Romans (7:2 i-23), "that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God, in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin which dwells in my members." In The Oty of God Augustine ~emarks that the original sin was one of disobedience impelled by pride. The result of this-original diSobedience, he goes on to say, is a terrible disharmony within the human person: In a word. what is the punishment for that sin of disobedience but disobedience? For what other human misery is there but the disobedience of a person to himself--so that, because he did not wish what he was able to do. now he wishes what he is unable to do? For in paradise, even if he was unable to doall things before the sin. y~t he did'not wish to do whatever he was unable to do: and therefore he was able to do everything that he wished to do. But now, as we recognize in his offspring~ and as Holy Scripture testifies, a human being is like vanity. For who can count how many things he wishes to do that he cannot do, since he is not obedient to himself--that is, since his very mind and his flesh (which is inferior to it) do not obey his will? For. despite himself, his mind is greatly afflicted, and his flesh suffers and grows old and dies. And we would not be suffering unwillingly whatever else we suffe.r if our nature completely and every respect obeyed our will.3 Whoever has not lived this conflict, to a greater or lesser degree, has not lived reflectively. Disobedience, then, is part of human nature. According to Augustine, the very illimitable desires that contribute to human transcendence and that set the human being apart from other earthly creatures~ are, on their shadow side, stumbling blocks and provocations to overweening demands that cannot be satisfied and that must qualify as the urgings of disobedience, of sin. Sad to say, as tragic as this disharmony is, we nevertheless learn to live with it. It is a disharmony that is, after all, part of us and familiar to us. We could hardly imagine living with those overweening demands, not stifled (which would render us inhuman), but under control--in that state of tense 666 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 and watchful virtue that the Greek Fathers referred to as apatheia. So radi-cated in our nature is this disharmony that we purposefully and self-right, eously pursue the wrong things as though they were good for us. So radicated is it that--the upshot is--to correct it is to act contrary to our nature, a process that causes intense pain. We are like a man whose broken leg has been set improperly. The man learns to walk with a limp and can, indeed, go about with relative ease, yet the limp in turn becomes responsible for 'a gradual deterioration in other areas of the body. For health to be restored, to the extent possible, the leg must be broken again and reset. Learning obedience is like breaking and setting a limb that has already been broken and set once before. This is surely the insight of the Desert Fathers, e~pecially as it is,implied in a narrative such as the following, which dates from the fourth or fifth century: It was said of the abba John the Dwarf that, having gone off to Scet~ to an old man of Thebes, he remained in the desert. His abba took a dry stick and planted it and told him: "Water this every day with a flask of water until it bears fruit." But the water was so far away that he would leave in the evening and return in the morning. After three years, though, it came to life and bore fruit. And the old man took the fruit, carried it to " the church'~ahd said to the brethren: "Take and cat the fruit of obedience."4 The story of the dry stick is a famous one, perhaps even a frightening one, for it seems to smack more than a little of the arbitrary exercise of authority that we mentioned earlier. The distinction betWeen the old/nan of Thebes and a neurotic novice-master or novice-mistress might be hard to discern from the outside, but presumably the motivation is different. Whatever goal the latter may be pursuing, the old man of Thebes was concerned with the painful restoration of human nature, the resetting of a once broken limb, and John was his willing disciple. The story of the 'dry stick compels us to confront the mysterious and unavoidable link there is between obedience and suffering. What we hear of John the Dwarf and his three years of toil imposed by his abba is no more than what we hear of Jesus himself, whose own suffering and death are so frequently ex'pressed in terms of obedience. Jesus' agony in Gethsemane is nothing other than the struggle to be obedient to his Father: "My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt" (Mt 26:39). So it is also characterized in the great hymn of Philippians: "And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross" (Ph 2:8). It appears likewise in the Letter to the Hebrews: "Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered" (Heb 5:8). The difference, of course, between Jesus and John the Dwarf or any other human being is that Jesus' obedience was not therapeutic or restorative, since he was without sin and its tragic effects, whereas our obedience is precisely for the sake of our sinfulness. Yet even for Jesus to drink deeply of the cup of human nature, his obedience had to entail suffering, as ours does. Based upon the model of Jesus himself, we may say that to be obedient is Cruciform Obedience / 667 to submit to the cross, with all its mystery and suffering. We may also say that the cross is the thing outside of us, the thing which is representative of God's will and which intrudes disturbingly upon us. Inasmuch as it is identical with God's will it is an objective good, the objective good. It is, indeed, the great objectivity that we refuse because of our own self-centeredness. It is the great objectivity to which we must conform ourselves and which we must put within ourselves if we are ever to have peace, as expressed in the words of Dante: "In his will is our peace.'~ And it is the process of interiorizing what is presently exterior to us that does us violence and causes us pain. This means shoulder-ing the cross--not the cross of our own choosing (which, after all, would be the product of our subjectivity) but the ineluctable cross of God's choosing, for only in that cross is his will, and hence our peace, certain. In the case of John the Dwarf the cross was an adherence to the absurd demand of the old man of Thebes. In the case of Jesus it was a willingness to set his face to go to Jerusalem (see Lk 9:51), with what that implied of suffering and death, because this was the Father's destiny for him. Perhaps religious men :and women today, in contrast to religious men and women of twenty or more years ago, think of obedience for the most part as a vow that is rarely exercised. Itcomes up when a person is transferred from one assignment to another, and even that is usually done with consultation. Oth-erwise superiors make demands with relative infrequency, and they hardly dream of asking the very difficult, never mind the absurd or the impossible. Obedience is invoked almost exclusively as a functional necessity, and so it has come to be seen: it is required for the smooth operation of a religious house or an apostolate--entities that ordinarily run themselves'without the intervention of a "higher authority." But the view that religious obedience is an occasional or a functional thing is as erroneous as the view that poverty and celibacy are occasional or functional. Obedience, instead, like poverty and celibacy, is a constant disposition. In my previous articles 1 suggested that poverty and celibacy represented an attachment to Christ as human and as desirable respectively; consequently they are dispositions that have a quality of permanence and that are always operative. Obedience too is a constant and always operative disposition, spe-cifically with regard to the will of the Father, which in turn implies the cross. For, in Jesus' own experience, the cross was not merely at the end of his life but rather was the end to which his whole life was directed; it colored his life and, we might even say, gave it its meaning. If.we think of the Father's will as something constantly set before us to be accomplished---because therein consists the only restoration of our dishar- " mony and thus the only possibility of our happiness--we shall no longer conceive of oi~edience as a sporadic or occasional thing. Where do we discern this will? The traditional answer, of course, is that we discern it in the laws and customs of the Church, in Scripture as it is properly interpreted, in the constitutions and customs of one's particular religious con- 661~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 gregation, in the daily schedule or horarium, in the demands of one's assign7 ments, in the will of the superior as that is legitimately expressed, in the promptings of one's own conscience, in requests that are made of us and that it is possible for us to fulfill without difficulty. Similar things could be added along these lines. But these are by no means the only instances of the divine will, as though it were concerned only with some things and not others. The divine will is expressed in every aspect of reality, in every objective thing that occurs, that it behooves us to accept and somehow take into ourselves. Thus we must hearken to and obey the reality of other people's personalities, which are not our own and hence are often h~rd to appreciate; the outcome of elections and other such processes in which we may have taken positions opposed to the prevailing view; accidents that could not be avoided; the weaknesses that burden us as we get sick or grow old; the vagaries of the weather and of other natural phenomena. These things too are manifestations of God's will that are proper subjects of our obedience, that it profits us nothing to complain about or rail against. In them, indeed, there is a loving design for us. Although the "objectivities" mentioned are all unpleasant or at least diffi-cult, and one or two even tragic, we could as well say that God's will is also expressed in the many good things that befall us--in friendships and successes of various sorts, for example. Yet since these are so often things that we ourselves have had a hand in bringing about, or that we would gladly have brought about if we could, they do not have the same quality.of objectivity as do the others. Nor is there question of bending our will to them, and for that reason there is perhaps no question of obedience either. According to this way of thinking, then, we could characterize obedience in terms of "patient endurance." It is the vow by which the religious person promises to accept the reality that can be identified with the divine will, and that inevitably brings with it the cross. Moreover, the religious makes this promise in the firm conviction that in enduring or accepting this total reality, he or she will find the peace that the world cannot give (see John 14:27). All of reality, the whole of the universe, is in fact permeated with the mystery of the cross: This is a theme common in the earliest Church, and expressed strikingly by lrenaeus at the end of the second century when he writes: And because [Christ] is himself the Word of God almighty, who, in his invisible form, pervades us universally in the whole world, and encompasses both its length and breadth and height and depth--for by God's Word everything is disposed and adminis-tered- the Son of God was also crucified in these, imprinted in the form of a cross on the universe: for he had necessarily, in becoming visible~ to bring to light the universal-ity of his cross in order to show openly through his visible form that activity of his: that it is he who makes bright the height, that is, what is in heaven, and holds the deep, which is in the bowels of the earth, and stretches'forth and extends the length from east to west, navigating also the northern parts and the breadth of the south, and calling in all the dispersed from all sides to the knowledge of the Father.6 Cruciform Obedience / 669 Where Christ is, there is the cross: it cannot be avoided; it is wriften even across the face of our joys. Do we not acknowledge the dominance of the cross in our lives, do we not symbolically submit ourselves to it when we sign ourselves with it from forehead to breast and from shoulder to shoulder? The principal .objection to what has been said thus far must surely be that it appears to foster passivity--a kind of mindless, heedless acceptance of and submission to Whatever comes one's way. It must be added, then, that Jesus' own obedience to his destipy, which was the reality of the cross that constantly intruded into his life, was not mindless or fatalistic. We know from the gospels that Jesus was always aware of what he was doing and that he approached this painful destiny in complete freedom. He offered himself freely to the Father, although not without a struggle, as the episode in Gethsemane tells us, to conform his will to the Father's. The sovereignty of Jesus' obedience is wonderfully manifested in the most ancient depictions of the'crucifixion, dating from the fifth century, where he is shown on the cross as a figure in.complete possession of himself--not hanging in agony but erect, and with a noble and peaceful countenance. Yet it is important to realize, asthe gospels inform us, that Jesus endured suffering on the cross. The ancient artists only stressed, one aspect of the crucified one. Moreover, it was Jesus' custom to make his disciples conscious of the sufferings that lay before them, so that they too might be free to accept the cross or not. It is clear from his example, therefore, that Jesus did not consider obedience to be an abdication of self. That Christian obedience is not passivity is still more clearly illustrated from the fact that, in numerous instances, Jesus actually resisted what other-wise might have been construed as his "destiny." That is, he often spoke against those who opposed him rather than simply bear their provocations in silence. This resistance on Jesus' part introduces an element of complexity into the practice of obedience. It suggests that there are times when religious obedience may be modified by some sort of resistance. When this may legiti-mately occur is problematic; it is a classic instance of the conflict between conscience and authority, particularly inasmuch as the authority here con-cerns the subject of areligious vow. This is, nonetheless, in keeping with the doctrine of the divine permissive will, which teaches that God permits evil to occur and to run its course, evenif he does not countenance it. This pe.rmissive will, to the extent that we may call it a will at all, may in many circumstances be resisted--although if Matthew 5:39 is to be taken seriously, it ought not always to be resisted. One thing, however, is certain in this regard: one may not resist an author-ity merely because it imposes something that is difficult or painful upon the one who is expected to obey. Suffering in and of itself, unless it is qualified in some significant way (if it were seen to be unbearable, for example, or if it would somehow radiate out to others who ought not to be affected by it), is insufficient reason for opposing an authority. If one were to resist an authority 6711 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 merely on account of the foreseen suffering (assuming its bearability and so forth), one would in effect be seeking to empty obedience of its content, and one may no more seek to do this than to empty Christianity of the cross. In fact, Jesus' own resistance, his refusal to endure certain unjust situa-tions, hastened his destiny rather than delayed it, and Jesus himself seems to have known this~ What this suggests, while not condoning passivity, is that the authority has the benefit of the doubt vis-a-vis the person placed under obedience. The-presumption on the part of the one who obeys should be that the assignment imposed is to be carried out except under certain unusual circumstances. On the other hand, the person in authority ought not to misperceive the desire to talk about an, assignment, or about any other imposed obedience, as a sheer unwillingness to obey. For the superior is also obliged to obedience, and specifically to the obedience of ministry--which includes listening. In sum, we are left with this, that religious obedience partakes of the mystery of the cross--"mystery" at least in part because it is so often absurd and inexplicable. Although human insight may show us that there is in each of us a terrible disharmony that causes us suffering, nothing but faith can tell us that the divine plan which includes the cross is a plan for our good, and one that will :ultimately bring us peace and harmonY. Indeed, only faith tells us that the things to which we must submit are from God, since we ~would often just as soon avoid them by asserting that they have nothing to do with God at all--that they come from superiors who do not understand "us, or that ~they represent situations that ought to be~changed instead of endured. Only this kind of faith will make obedience work. For the truth is that we must be obedient anyway to objectivity and reality as these have been under-stood in .this essay. We cannot control other people's personalities, or the weather, or our own health and well-being. We cannot avoid the cross, which is omnipresent, unless we choose to retreat into an imaginary world of our own making; and even then it is doubtful that we would succeed in our escape! The wisest thing that we can do is to set our faces to go to Jerusalem, for the cross is best borne willingly. Conclusion Two themes have been common to these three essays on poverty, celibacy, and obedience. The first theme is that of the Christocentric ~nature of the vows of religion. The person of Christ is the specific ;reason for a Christian and a religious to choose to do even what he or she might otherwise have decided to do--since poverty, celibacy, and obedience can make sense quite apart from the Christocentric context. But they make sense only to the extent that any-thing without Christ makes sense to the Christian--they cry out for comple-tion, for Christ is Alpha and Omega. In the case of obedience, we may translate "Christocentric" as "staurocen-tric'-- a word we have coined from stauros, meaning cross. The distinction Cruciform Obedience / 671 between Christo- and stauro-centric is a very fine one. In fact, the cross, thus understood, cannot be conceived apart from Christ. It is true that Christocentric seems to emphasize the person of Christ in a way ~hat staurocentric does not. In poverty and celibacy as I have written of them, we seem to touch Christ directly as the object of our love and desire, whereas in obedience it is the will of God, symbolized by the cross, which is the goal of our actions. In commenting on this, three observations must be made. Firstly, in embracing the cross we do the same thing that Jesus did and love the same divine will that he loved. We imitate him. Secondly, before Jesus was crucified it was possible, indeed proper, to think of the cross solely as something horrible. But since his crucifixion he has stamped this instrument of suffering ineradicably with his own personality. Finally, the divine will is not something abstract or impersonal, as though we were obeying a computer. Rather it is identified with God himself, who is personal, and whose personality is love (see ! .In 4:8). For these reasons, then, we can say that obedience, like poverty and celibacy, has its focus in a person--whether the person is seen as Christ, or as God.This focus is absolutely necessary for the religious, for it gives a meaning to life that nothing else can. We live ultimately for persons. The second theme common to these three essays and to the three vows discussed in them is that of mystery. In large part we are speaking here, not of a good that is fully able to be grasped by the intellect alone, but of one that must be perceived and pursued by the emotions as well. But when we speak of the emotions, and of things susceptible to the emotions, we are immediately in the realm of "mystery," as 1 Sugge'sted at the conclusion of the essay on celibacy.7 Because the intellect cannot grasp fully the divine mystery, love must make up--to the extent that this is possible--for what the intellect cannot seize. This divine mystery, in turn, has for its subject, not a project or an ideal, but rather the divine personality--for only a person has the infinite depth and infinite capacity for change that defines the mysterious. Projects and ideals, on the other hand, are soon exhausted. If this depth and inexhaustibility are central to the human personality, as anybody who has ever been in love realizes, how much more central are they to the divine personality! This is the truth that the vows must affirm and mirror: in the end, we do not commit ourselves to Christ or God for any other reason than himself. And this reason is inexplicable to anyone who does not love, who has not seen the mystery, and has not been seized by it.8 672 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 NOTES ~See "The Center of Religious Poverty," in 42 (1983) 534--544, and "Christocentric Celibacy," in 43 (1984) pp. 217-224. 2See; e.g. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae 2-'~, q. 186, a. 8. 3De cir. Dei 14.15. 4Apophthegmata Patrum. De abbate Joanne Colobo I (PG 65.203), 5One may also recall the motto of Pope John XXIlh "Obedience and peace." 6Proof of the Apostolic Preaching 34, trans~ by J. P. Smith, in Anciem Christian Writers 16 (Westminster, Md., 1952)pp. 69-70. 7See "Christocentric Celibacy," pp. 223-224. ~This essay, completed on the day of his ordination to the priesthood, is dedicated to Kevin Kraft, O.P, Christ the Center of Our Vowed Life by Boniface Ramsey, O.P. Father Ramsey's three articles on the vows of religion are available as a single reprint: i - The Center of Religious Poverty ii - Christocentric Celibacy iii - Cruciform Obedience Price: $1.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The Renewal of Contemplative Orders Thomas Keating, O.C.S.O. Abbot Keating was formerly abbot of the Trappist monastery in Spencer, MA. His last article in our pages, "Cultivating the Centering Prayer" (January, 1978) was written while there. Presently he resides at St. Benedict's Monastery: Snowmass, CO 81654. Part I: Monastic World Views The monastic vocation is a personal intuition into the mystery of Christ's invitation to follow him along the radical lines proposed in the Gospel. One may not be able to articulate the reason why one wants to be a monk or nun and yet have a true call from Christ. Or again, two people may articulate entirely different motives for wanting to enter a monastery, and both may .have a true call from Christ. The reason for this,is the fact that monastic values can be articulatCd in more than one world view or conceptual frame of reference. Obviously, one's response to the monastic call has to be expressed in somoframe of reference, but it must always be kept in mind that no one set of structures fully expresses'the mystery of that call. It would be a mistake, therefore, to identify the mystery of the monastic vocation with any one particular set of symbols or structures. Many cloistered monks and nuns in monasteries of the contemplative lifestyle are unaware that a radical shift in Western thinking has taken place over the last fifty or sixty years. This shift is centered in the development of historical consciousness. In the words of David Tracy, "This phenomenon can be described as man's realization that individually he is responsible .for the life he leads, and collectively he is responsible for the world in which he leads it."~ A significant part of this change of perspective is due to the discoveries of modern science, the development of historical criticism, and the shift in philos-ophy and theology from a static world view to an evolutionary one. Paul Tillich has given the names heteronomic and autonomic to the two compre- 673 674 /~Reviewfor Religious; Sept.-Oct., 1984 hensive world views that are polarized in contemporarythinking. The tension arising from these opposing world views appears in the Church at large, but especially in religious and monastic life, where tensions within the Catholic world community tend to be emphasized. The conflict is not merely between liberal and conservative positions, but is much more profound. It arises from the unquestioned assumptions of two completely opposite ways of looking at the world and at oneself, each of which lays claim to one's deepest loyalties. The heteronomic world view, which was commonly held by the Catholic community until fifty or sixty years ago, is essentially a negative world view; or to be more exact, it is an other-worldly world view. It sees the sacred as opposed to the profane. Thus it seeks to reject the profane in order to find God, and as a consequence, emphasizes the value of renunciation. The present world is perceived as a sinful environment which has to be rejected. In a monastic milieu, this conviction translates into an attitude of determined separation from the world and the studied avoidance of any involvement in the society of one's time and in its problems. Since the primary focus of this world view is eternity, preparing for the life to come is conceived as the principal, or even the only, duty of a monk or nun. In either case, it follows that the legitimate pleasures of life must be renounced in order to find God. Thus, austerity of life and ascetical practices become the norm of spiritual progress and the touchstone of genuine dedication to God. This world view, developed and exemplified by the monks of the fourth century, had a significant influence on the spirituality of the Church as a whole. The formation of the liturgy; for instance, was influenced by this viewpoint. Catholic education was imparted and still, in large part, is imparted 'from this viewpoint. Most young people applying to monasteries today, however, are influ-. enced, at least in some degree, by the autonomic world view. The autonomic world view is the result of the gradual secularization of religious symbols, rituals, and institutions, together with the development of the historical con-sciousness. In this perspective, the profane is sacred. Renunciation of the good things of human .life is regarded as unrealistic or irrelevant. The positive aspects of the present world, rather than its evident evils, are emphasized. Time is the opportunity to change both ourselves and the society in which we live. Our personal decisions and actions make history and the future. Conse-quently, we have to assume personal responsibility for what happens to us and to the world. We are part of a process (evolution), and in order to reach true personal fulfillment, we have to take into account the well-being of the com-munity in which we live. Moreover, the community for which we are respon-sible is gradually extending itself, through mass communication and travel, to embrace the whole human family. The development and the shaping of the world community is, therefore, a profoundly religious and contemplative con-cern. Eternal life is not only in the future, but immanent in time. Moreover, there is a strong tendency to reject the patterns and lifestyles of the past as The Renewal of Contemplative Orders / 675 adequate paradigms for the future: Translated into a monastic milieu, this world view has a genuine attraction for the fundamental values of monastic life, but tends to distrust the tradi-tional structures in which they were enshrined. It rejects any kind of isolation, while esteeming the value of true solitude. Permanent commitment is a special problem for people~ with this perspective, because they feel a responsibility to adjust to the future as it becomes present. To commit oneself in advance to a single lifestyle or to one expression of monastic values seems to them a refusal to take,,responsibility for themselves and for what God might some day call them tO do. They want to be free to respond to the future in ways that may be new or even incompatible witha particular:monastic lifestyle that, in principle, can never be changed. Each of these world views has much to recommend it. Each sees the truth from a particular cultural perspective. Neither can claim to be a complete view of the mystery of the monastic vocation. Both have limitations which must be transcended in order to reach human integration and the fullness of the christian life. It is interesting to note that during his'monastic lifetime, Tho-mas Merton seems to have moved from a heteronomic to an autonomic world view, and then to have'transcended both. Such is the impression given by his. remarkable essay, "Final Integration," in Contemplation hi A World Of Action, Chapter 13. Elsewhere he writes, "Historical consciousness and con-templation are not incompatible, but. necessary." Father Raimundo Panikkar has discerned another world view in addition to the heteronomic and autonomic world views delineated by Tillich.2 He calls it the ontonomic world view or the contemplative dimension of life. It is a higher perspective, rather than a synthesis of the heteronomic and autonomic world views. It ~is a state of higher consciousness (faith) that integrates the sacred and profane by perceiving the presence of the sacred in ordinary events and .in the most secular of situations. It flows from the awareness of the universe as a unity. Its fundamental attitude is complete detachment--freedom from compulsions, prejudices, and preconceived ideas. The contemplative dimension is a vision of reality in which the "egoic" or false self is no more. The ultimate experience is non-duality. Panikkar characterizes it by the term "tempiternity,'.' which/he identifies as the experience of eternity-and-time in each passing momentand event. To find the eternal in time is the crux of the experience. ~ Translated into a monastic milieu, this experience of mature contemplation must lead to action, even if it is only to transform the local monastic environ-ment. The Contemplative monk seeks to discover what he is, not what he will become. He seeks to cultivate the core of his humanness, which is more than historical existence. Thus, the ontonomic world view is a form of transhistori-cal consciousness. It is outside and above political considerations and histori-cal concerns. At the same time, it does not take a merely negative posture toward institutionalized injustice or the whole evils of contemporary society, 676 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 but offers a positive alternative by establishing a lifestyle based on the con-templative dimension of, the Gospel. Thus, fuga mundi becomes, not flight from a world that is evil in itself, but flight from the "system" by refusing to be a part of a political or social establishment that supports institutionalized evil. Here is one example of how these world views operate in monastic com-munities. The contemporary monk, influenced consciously or unconsciously by the autonomic world view, feels that he cannot reach his own unique spiritual development without the well-being of the human community of which he is a part. F~or him, a strict, rule .of silence means isolation, not solitude. One of the older monks, having entered the monastery fifter a Catholic education that emphasized the heteronomic approach to life, may look upon him as one who has an exaggerated need for contact with others. For this older monk, picnics and community gatherings with. casual conversa-tion and banter are clearly mitigations of the rule of silence. He cannot wait to get back to his private room, to his books, or to his prayer, because his expectation is that he can attain union with God only through the renunciation of ordinary human society and its legitimate pleasures. The older monk believes in loving his brothers width his will. He may be embarrassed by feelings of affection, and even feel a du.ty to confess them as sins or imperfections. The new arrival, for his part, regards the older monk as simply incapable of relating. This polarization of attitudes becomes acute on the .occasion of commun-ity meetings. The older monks tend to make speeches while the younger, consumed with frustration, try in vain to engage them in genuine dialogue and interaction. These and similar situations can be poignant as well as just plain painful. Each monk, coming from his own respective world view, is completely sincere, motivated by loyalty to what he understands to be the structure enshrining the values that are to lead him to union with Christ. Consequently, the same community event or decision of the supe~rior will be interpreted positively or negatively according to one of these two basic monastic world views. Neither seems to beable to separate the religious symbol, ritual, or behavior pattern from the value wi~ich is being expressed in and through them. To be able to do so, of course, would require't,he kind of profound conversion that is presupposed by the ontonomic World view, or the contem-plative dimension of life. This perspective is able to express monastic values in different structures or with different symbols without being tipset. It recognizes intuitively that the value is what matters, not how it is expr~essed in particular circumstances. It can move ,from one symbol or set of symbols to another, and still express its total dedication to monastic values. Because it is not bound to ex.press these values in a particular way, it does not judge others or their observance critically. It can adjust to the signs of the time, recognizing with ease when iexceptions are called for, and acknowledging the primary impor-tance of flexibility in applying the common rule to individual circumstances, The Renewal of Contemplative Orders / 677 The contemplative dimension is the goal of monastic structures and obser-vances. Those who have espoused the heteronomic or autonomic world views in their early monastic experience may move beyond their own particular world view as life advances, and come finally to embrace, or at least tolerate, the other. Ultimately, those in the heteronomic or autonomic monastic world views are both calledto transcend the limitations of their respective world views and to reach the contemplative dimension. The contemplative dimension is to live not only in God's presence, but also out of that presence. In other words, the presence and movement of God become the source of one's moti-vation both in prayer and activity. The contemplative dimension can express itself inside of existing structures or create new structures when circumstances call for them. It is not so much the structures that are important, but the motivation which prompts them. In the Gospel~ motivation is everything. The contemplative dimension can infuse life into the most stagnant of structures. The question, however, may be asked whether this is always the best use of this incomparably creative energy. Perhaps enough has been said to see a fundamental root of the problem of mutual understanding and communion in communities of contemplative life today. It is not a question of persons in the community having a liberal or a conservative temperament, di.sposition, or set of convictions. That is to be expectedin every human grouping. It.is rather a question of two deeply held perspectives regarding the essential rfionastic values, based in large part on one's early religious training and cultural conditioning. It was possible in days gone by to enjoy the blessings of unity when everyone shared the heteronomic world view. It is impossible today to avoid or suppress the ideas and attitudes that are characteristic of the autonomic world view. 1 have seen monks enter the monastery with the heteronomic world view, pass a number of years living and articulating their monastic experience in that frame of reference, and then change radically, reacting against the heteronomic'world view with all the force that is characteristic of a profound conversion. Such change is all the more acute in those who have repressed their talents and legitimate feelings for the sake of the heteronomic world view. There is really no solution to this polarization as long as it remains on the level of conceptualization. The same events, directives of superiors, or deci-sions by the community will continue to be interpreted in two opposing wa~,s. The heteronomic world view sees as disaster what the autonomic world view perceives as a great step forward. Similarly, what the autonomic world view considers regression, is interpreted by the heteronomic mind-set as a retu,rn to fundamentals, or to "the good old days." Some might think that monks and nuns who are deeply committed to these world views should live in separate monasteries, at least as an experi-ment. Actually, though, if we could recognize our own conscious or uncons-cious commitment to one of these monastic world views, and accept the fact that the other is also legitimate, we could live together with a certain mutual 67~1 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 enrichment--provided, of course, that our objective was not to obliterate the other, but to transcend our own world view and attain to the higher perspective of the contemplative dimension of life. The superior in monasteries today has to be someone who has great sympathy for both the heteronon~ic and the autonomic world views and can see the values and the limitations of each. Unfortunately, the monks will judge the superior's decisions according to their own respective viewpoints, and thus everything the superior tries to do will be a source of dissatisfaction to one side or the other. There needs to be a massive re-education of the members of contemplative orders if they are to understand the dynamics that areat work in their communities today and which are really .outside anyone's control. These dynamics are what Pope John XXIII called the "signs of the time." The two opposing world views are not going to go away. We have either to adjust to them, separate, or tear each other apart. The formulation of new constitutions is not going to solve this problem. In fact, the efforts to stabilize constitutions could prudently be postponed until more fundamental issues are resolved. One. of these, of course, is how to train the young. If postulants and novices in contemplative orders are oriented toward the contemplative dimension from the beginning of their monastic lives, and can be persuaded that genuine monastic values can be incarnated in more than one way, it: will then be possil~ieto emphasize the right things in their formation and avoid diverting their energies with useless regulations or conceptual conflicts. There must be serious discipline. This consists primarily in perseverance in contemplative (non-conceptual) prayer. Neither liturgy nor any other practice can supply for this. Silence and solitude initiate the dynamic of self-knowledge and the purification of the psychological unconsciousness. This shotald be fully understood by those undertaking the contemplative way of life. Contemplative prayer will enable them to adjust to this dynamic, persevere in its difficulties, and benefit from its insiglits. Two hours of such prayer every day seems like a suitable norm for postulants and novices. In communities where the work is more demanding, the divine office--and not contemplative prayer--should be reduced. For contemplatives, liturgy can only be an effec-tive means of formation in dialogue with silence and prayer in secret. Part II: Principles Monastic formation is not an assembly line. ~Monks and nuns cannot be mass-produced. The monastic environment is a choice of means designed to facilitate growth in the contemplative dimension of the Gospel. It is aimed at self-transcendence and transformation in Christ. Each monk and nun in a particular monastery is in a different place in the spiritual journey. Only great sensitivity on the part of the community toward the spiritual and human growth of its members can adequately meet this situation. Newcomers to Renewal of Contemplative Orders / 679 monastic life, of course, must submit to the same rule for the first few years of their initiation. But to apply this principle to the whole of life, even into old age, is another matter. In contemplative orders right now, the big question is not new constitutions, but .whether the observances as we practice them lead the average monk and nun of our time to that level of spirituality which Father Merton called "final integration." Without a certain number of persons living on that level in a monastery, the Rule cannot be properly observed. Institutions have an uncanny ability to be blind to whatever challenges them to constructive change.: This tendency increases in proportion to one's close-ness to the center of administration. Survival is an instinct in every human institution, as it is in individual human beings. Only those who have expe-rienced deep purification are free of this compulsion. When the inspiration of a charismatic founder or group of founders is no longer present, the second generation tries to preserve their spirit and insight by means of rules and customs. These work well so long as the spiritual understanding of the observances perdures. But if this spiritual understanding peters out, observances begin to be practiced merely externally, and may come to be experienced as a straight jacket. In a lifestyle as severely restricted as a cloistered monastery, such an environment could even become neurosis-prone. This can occur when monks or nuns start keeping~the rule for the wrong reasons, or isolate themselves from the concerns of the local and world church and community. Monastic rules, including St. Benedict's, were composed without the knowledge we possess today of the psychological and sociological factors involved in human development and in the formation of community. Monastic founders had extraordinary insight into these matters, but they did not have at their disposal the experience and research of the last century in psychology and sociology. The renewal of the contemplative orders has to take these new insights into account., 0 The renewal also has to take seriously the work of historical criticism. To separate the essentials of monastic life from its cultural conditioning in the course of the centuries and to re-express these essentials today is no small task. Still, it has to be done if monastic life is to be a viable alternative for people in the twenty-first century. Moreover, these essential values have to be expressed not only in a con-temporary way, but in ways appropriate to different cultures. As new monas-teries spring up in. various parts of the world, great sensitivity must be shown to the culture in which they are inserted. Established monasteries also: need to develop a keen sensitivity to the particular cultu.res of which they are already a part because these are ev.olving at a constantly accelerating rate. Such sensitiv-ity requires a certain level of interior freedom and a capacity to evaluate the ¯ signs of the time. To ascertain where we stand in this regard, communities might ask them-selves such questions as these: 6~11~ / Review for Religibus, Sept.-Oct., 1984 i. Do we provide space for people to grow, to make mistakes, to relax, to get a different perspective, to relate normally with their peers, to grow in responsibility, and to respond to the needs of others? 2. Can damaged persons find healing and human growth in our community? 3. If in our community there is evident lack of healing and of human and ¯ spiritual growth, is there som~ething in our way of life that makes this happen? 4. Do we develop the human and spiritual gifts of the individual members of the community, and are they then used for the good of the community? 5. Does self-support require draining a certain number of people by over-work, excessive responsibility, or by leaving them in jobs which they expe-rience as drudgery without hope of relief?. 6. ls stability in the community an absolute ora relative value? Should there be more opportunity to serve in other houses or to,experience other forms ~of Christian service for a limited time? ~. 7. What do we perceive as the goal of our contemplative way of life? is it personal salvation, penance, intercession for others, contemplative prayer, eremiticism, strict observance, togetherness, or what? 8. Are the present structures of our order the right ones for our time, culture, and circumstances? In particular, does the liturgy as we do it truly express our prayer, or is it cast in a mold that is excessively dualistic and historically conditioned? ¯ 9. Why are there so few potential superiors in the average monastery of contemplative orders? More important than any answers we might come up with, is the level of honesty and openness to truth that would permit communities to raise such intimate and personal questions in the first place. James W. Fowler3 shows how the development of Christian faith corresponds to the various stages of human growth. Basing his reflections on the work of Piaget and Kohlberg, Fowler points out that the level of faith development in a particular commun-ity is normally dependent on the communal ideal which the majority have embraced. The community tends to raise its members to this level, but does not encourage them to grow beyond it. This is not a deliberate and explicit refusal, but a subtle coercion exercised on everyone to accept the approved level of development as the norm. This dynamic is evident in certain charismatic communities which tend to discourage their members from practicing con-templative prayer even. when the attraction of grace is clear. Fowler mentions that most of the Christian churches in the United States which he investigated were at the level of faith in which religious symbols were inseparable from their accepted meaning by the community. By'religious symbols, he means rituals, practices, and behavior patterns that give the group its identity and express its value system. In these communities, it is difficult for ~ individual members to separate religious symbols from the meaning give~n them by the group as the expression of their common values~ and to ri~-express these values in other forms. The Renewal of Contemplative Orders / ~1 It is easy to see how a monastic community, which has the responsibility of fostering the interior freedom of its members, would be greatly hindered by a hidden agenda which effectively prevented them from moving beyond the letter of the Rule or the common observances. The common good of a monastery is not the exercises of common life as such, but the growth of bach of the members toward self-transcendence and transformation in Christ. The martyrdom of conscience, which Anthony of Egypt identified with the monas-tic vocation, may require some monks and nhns to express common, values in other forms--for instance, as hermits, pilgrims, teachers of contemplative prayer. Monks and nuns in the Benedictine-Cistercian tradition often have hesita-tions about the principle of personal growth because of their conviction, based on their experience, that the complete surrender of oneself to the common life is a tremendous leap forward in the spiritual journey. This view of stability maintains that changes in attitudes and dispositions, considered as ascending levels of faith, will take place interiorly in the course of one's monastic lifetime, without having to make any significant modifications in one's external obser-vance or environment. The question may be asked, however, whether this is always true. ISertain external changes could facilitate interior growth during a period of crisis. If everyone in the community is really growing, periods of crisis for one or other member will not be exceptional, but of frequent occurrence. However, for appropriate modifications of observance on behalf of the particular needs of individuals to be fully accepted and supported by.the community, the superior ¯ has to be a person in. whose discernment the community has complete confi-dence. Alternatively, there must be a level of communication that is so well established and free-flowing that persons at different stages of growth can easily understand and accept each other. Whether a large community (more than twenty) can develop or maintain such a degree of communication is a question that should be studied by contemplative orders. Most s6ciologists would have serious doubts about it. As a. further consideration, it would.seem that leadership in monastic communities today has to be an "enabling" rather than a ,determining" kind of leadership. Members of the community have to be encouraged to function on their own initiative, taking responsibility for themselves and for the group: This level.~of regponsibility obviously requires effective communication. A superior should be one of the group as much as he can. He should be intelli-gent, but not someone who inspires either awe or dependency. He should be supportive, affirming, straightforward, and open to new ideas; not someone who prefers things to people, or good order to human needs. No one should exercise religious authority who has not first come to terms with °his own solitude and isolation, for only then can he understand and relate to the solitude and isolation that others may feel. The monastic milieu is not a place where people are to be changed, but where they can change themselves. 6112 / Review for Religious; Sept.-Oct., 1984 Two principles of renewal deserve special consideration in the formation of the young' in our time. These are: flexibility in regard to observances, and emphasis on the contemplative dimension of the Gospel. How the latter is to be carried out should be the subject of study and dialogue in each monastery becahse, without a plan and practice to foster this contemplative dimension, observances will be useless. There is a fairly widespread notion in monasteries that contemplative prayer and monastic observance~are somehow incompatible. Unless this mis-conception can be dispelled by adequate education and formation, the future of these communities is extremely uncertain. , Flexibility is the most practical means of approaching individual needs at different stages of the spiritual journey. By comparison, Fowler writes, the institutional approach to the good of individual members is a buckshot approach. It presumes thatthe same religious symbols are always going to be neci~ssary for ~everyone for the whole of each one's life. Experience, on the other hand, points to the fact that most persons need to,be detached from particular religious symbols at a certain point in their spiritual journey in order to make further progress. Opportunities for human growth should be provided in cloistered monas-tic life as a necessary foundation for spiritual growth. To begin with, the contemplativ.e dimension of the Gospel cannot develop normally without a certain spontaneity. It is necessary for the members of every community to get to know one another on the human level early in their monastic lives. If there are several no.vices or temporary professed, they should have the chance to discuss monastic;values among themselves, without the novice master or dean being present. For a limited :period of time they could benefit from a "gut-level" exchange of feelings about one another and the community, moderated by a qualified facilitator. The sense of belonging is indispensable for the health of every community. This is not easy in a large group. This is probably why Benedict, with his far-sighted wisdom, recommended deaneries (a community of communities) for expanding monasteries. Sub-group structures are not divisive if their pur-pose is well understood and accepted by the community. At the very least, the opportunity to speak with one's peers in small informal groups and one-to-one should be encouraged. Friendships, both within and outside the community, can be enriching, especially'when they are supportive of one's i;piritual journey. At the same time, periods of stricter silence, as during Advent and Lent, or for a week or two every few months, might be introduced to provide the experience of a deeper and°more extended silence. Intensive periods of silence and prayer open up new areas of insight and hasten the process of purification. The rules of enclosure could also benefit from greater flexibility. Work-shops can be stimulating and broadening for those who are interested in a particular subject or craft. With the introduction of cassette TV, programs of genuine value izould help to educate and bring the community together. Uni- 7he Renewal of Contemplative Orders versit'y life tends to be a special kind of environment, somewhat withdrawn from the real world, but the genuine need of training professors, completing a monk's education, or developing particular talents, justifies this experience. Besides educational motives for modifying the strict interpretation of the rules of enclosure, permission to go home for an annual family visit instead of having the. family come to the monastery could be beneficial for the monks and nuns--as well as easier on their families. To allow selected persons to live in the community as residents for a prolonged period of time is already being done in some monasteries with good results. Interaction with dedicated per-sons in other walks of life is stimulating as well as broadening. Retreats for both sexes and varying degrees of participation in the liturgy are presently common practices in a number of contemplative communities and should be encouraged. The need for physical exercise is obvious in our day when monasteries of men and women have had to replace manual work by machinery. Factory work and the sedentary employment that is forced upon a community by secretarial demands do not provide the kind of psychological space that used to be provided by labor in the fields or in the woods. Modern forms of earning a living are less simple and usually demand more in the way of mental concen-tration. New ways of providing for the balance of activities prescribed by the Rule of Benedict have to be found or invented. It may look strange for monks to be playing sports, running around in jogging shorts, or takirig'long hikes; but. if they do not get enough good exercise to replace the manual: work of the past, they are going to find themselves in a constant state of tension. Com-munity or small group picnics, celebrations, outings, and trips can also pro-vide useful relaxation and strengthen the bonds between the members of the group. A change of pace in the horarium would be helpful from time to time, like the opportunity for a day of solitude without any structure once or twice a month. The annual retreat c

Issue 19.5 of the Review for Religious, 1960. ; Review Reli, gious Change of Busine.ss Officel Prayer of Pope Clement XI Growth in the 'Particular Examen by Paul Fd,'. O'Brien, S.'.~. Spiritual C. on~e,rences by. Th~omas Dubay, . S, Mo prayer and Action by Columban Browning, C.P. La Sallian Prayer for Active Religious by Brother F. Joseph, F.S.C. Survey of Roman Documents Views, Newsl Previews Questions and A~swers Book Reviews O Z 258 m 269 279 294 300 30l 305 Change of Business Office ~ TER September 15, 1960, the business office of. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS will change its address to the following: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Business Office 428 E. Preston Street Baltimore 2, Maryland After the above date all matters referring to new subscriptions, renewals, or back copies should be sent to the new address. The editorial office of the REVIEW will remain at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. Similarly the Question and Answer Department will remain at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland; and the Book Review Editor will continue at West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. +257 Prayer of Pope Clement ×1 THE LATIN text of the following prayer attributed to Pope Clement XI is to be found in Acta Apostolicae Sedis,~ 52 (1960), 358-59. According to a decree of the Sacred Congre-gation of Rites issued on February 24, 1960 (AAS, p. 359), the Latin text of the prayer is to be inserted in all future editions of the Roman Missal as part of the thanksgiving prayers after Mass. Moreover, a decree of the Sacred Penitentiary of March 11, 1960 (AAS, p. 361), has attached an indulgence of five years when the prayer is recited devoutly and with contrite heart; furthermore once a month and under the usual conditions a plenary indulgence can be gained by those who have piously recited the prayer for a whole month. I believe, Lord, but let me believe more firmly; I hope, but let me hope more confidently; I love, but let me love more ardently; I sorrow, but let me sorrow more strongly. I adore You as my first principle; I desire You as my last end; I praise You as my everlasting benefactor; I invoke You as my kindly defender. Direct me by Your wisdom; surround me by Your justice; comfort me by Your mercy; protect me by Your power. Lord, I offer You my thoughts that they may be of You; my words that they may be about You; my deeds that they may be in accord with You; my sufferings that they may be for You. I desire whatever You desire; I desire it because You de-sire it; I desire it as You desire it; I desire it a~ long as You desire it. Lord, this is my prayer: May You enlighten my mind, in-flame my will, cleanse my heart, sanctify my soul. Let me weep for my past sins; let me repelI future tempta-tions; let me correct my evil inclinations; let me cultivate my proper virtues. 258 PRAYER OF POPE CLEMENT XI Give to me, good Lord, love of Youl hatred of myself, zeal for my neighbor, contempt of the world. Let me be eager to obey my superiors, to assist my in-feriors, to .be.attentive to my friends, and to spare my enemies. Let me conquer pleasure by austerity, greediness by gen-erosity, anger by mildness, tepidity by fervor. Make me prudent in judgment, steadfast in danger, patient in adversity, humble in prosperity. Grant, Lord, that I may be attentive in prayer, moderate in my sustenance, diligent in my work, firm in my decisions. .May I taIce care to possess interior innocence, exterior ¯ modesty, exemplary relationships, and an orderly life. "Let me be assiduous in controlling nature, fostering grace, keeping the law, and working out my salvation. Let me learn from You how fragile is the earthly, how great the .divine, how brief the temporal, how permanent the eternal. Grant that I may prepare for death, fear judgment, escape hell, and obtain paradise. Through Christ our Lord. Amen. 259 Growth in the Particular Examen Paul W. O'Brien, S. J. THROUGH the popularization of books on prayer and a more enlightened spiritual direction, most souls know that there is a growth in prayer and that this growth involves a sim-plification. They. know the answers, at least theoretically, when they find their meditation becoming difficult, when their soul seems to be "doing nothing," but when they cling in loving at-tention to their God vaguely perceived. They recognize this as the process of simplification and hence can keep their souls in peace. At about the same time they find that their particular ex-amen no longer "works" and has lost its interest. Something is wrong. The soul is disturbed. It has learned to grow in prayer; it has not learned to grow in its examen. Offhand one might suspect that the simplifying action of God would not be confined to but one phase of the spiritual life, my prayer. It ought to reach into all my dealings with God. It ought to influence the character of my examen-just as it ought to have some effect on the other aspects of my spiritual life. And so it does, and thereby creates the problem of my adjustment. It is this problem that will be dealt with here, my progressive adaptation to God's simplifying action. But it calls for a preliminary exposition of the particular examen. Unless I know the instrument I am using, I cannot correctly adjust it. There is question throughout of the Ignatian particular examen. Not that St. Ignatius invented it; he.didn't. It is as old as Christianity; even older, for we find it practised by pagan philosophers. The Greek and Latin fathers knew and rec-ommended it. The fathers of the desert made assiduous use of it. But if St. Ignatius did not invent it, he did put it in better order, insisted greatly on it, incorporated it organically into the spiritual life, and has been responsible in. great measure for its spread among religious and lay folk. The Reverend Paul W. O'Brien is stationed at Bellarmine College, P. O. Box 143, Baguio City, Philippine Islands. 26O PARTICULAR EXAMEN Purity of Heart or Purity of Conscience? It will help to clarify the ~ture of the particular examen if we consider how it differs from the general examen. At first sight the distinction seems rather obvious, implied in the very names. The general examen is general, and deals with all sins; the particular examen is particular, and deals with only one sin. In other words there is no difference except in the number of sins considered. However a glance at the text of the Exercises reveals a much more profound distinction. Not only do they differ in their purpose, but their sphere of action and method are also different. The general examen is the kind of examen one makes for confession ("to confess .better" as we read in .the Exercises); its purpose is to purify the soul, to work a reconciliation with God; its field of action is the realm of conscience; it considers thoughts, words, and deeds under the aspect of culpability; it aims at purity of conscience. The particular examen is quite different. It deals with the obstacles to perfection, to the perfect service of God. Its purpose is "to correct and amend." Its sphere of action consists of ill-ordered affections and inclinations.Even where the matter may coincide with that of the general examen, its viewpoint is different. The sins or defects are considered not so much under their aspect of culpability, as something to be forgiven;~ but rather under their aspect of disorder, as something to be righted. It aims at purity of heart and comes to what the" great spiritual writers (Lallement, Rigoleuc) recommend as the "guard of the heart." An Attitude of Vigilant Control When we come to consider the method, we find an even more essential difference. At first glance they seem so alike: both employ a period of examination twice a day, at noon and before retiring; at this time both follow practically the same process, for the particular examen is tacked on to the last four points of the general examen. But, here the likeness end~. Whereas the general examen is confined to these two periods and may be considered as an operation, an act, the particular examen extends over the whole day, and is primarily a state. of soul, an attitude of vigilant control. St. Ignatius tells us that "straightway on rising, the person must resolve to guard him- 261 PAUL W. O'BRIEN Review for Religious self with diligence." It is this attitude of watchfulness that sets the particular examen at almost opposite poles to the gen-eral examen. It is not merely a checking, of the mileage twice a day; it is the constant preoccupation of the driver of the car E to get it started, to see that there is enough gas, to keep it on the road. The particular examen stays with me at every moment of the trip. Hence the essence of the particular examen is in this watch-fullness, this state of soul, together with the double control at noon and night. Without the watchfulness, the control is use-less ; but without the control, the watchfulness is in great danger of evaporating or of resting idly in theoretical resolutions that never materialize. The "Realizer" The function of the particular examen in my life begins to be clearer. It is the instrument that insures the realization of my ideal. It brings my life out of the world of theory, of vague sentimentalism, and makes it° real, something that is actually lived. As long as my ideals, resolutions, remain in the intentional order, I get nowhere. They must be realized in my daily life, in the concrete individual acts that go to make up that life. And so the particular examen is the great "realizer" as it con-trols the actuation of my desires for perfection. It must go hand in hand. with my other spiritual exercises. It is in my meditation, my spiritual reading, my general examen that I outline my resolutions, determine what I have to do. But it is the particular examen that sees to it that I do it. Hence its primary importance in any realistic spiritual life. It is essential therefore that I get started as soon as I begin my day. This "getting started" involves two things: (1) knowing clearly what the .sub]ec$ of my particular examen is; (2) resolving to watch it carefully until the next period of control. If I am inclined to forget it, I should write it out clearly, or incorporate it in a prayer with the motives for choosing it, and then put it in my shoe or some place where I will find it as soon as I get up. It is useless to check at noon the mileage of a car that never got started. So I must get it started. Once. started, it must be kept moving, must be kept on the road. Here the role of watchfulness is essential. When I see 262 September, 1960 PARTICULAR EXAMEN the car begin to deviate, a quick look at God with an "I'm sorry, Lord," and I resolve anew to keep going straight. When I notice that I've begun to slow down as I daydream along the way, again a quick look of sorrow, and I resume my desired speed. The particular examen is the instrument of vigilant control. Esteemed by Saints It should be obvious why the saints esteemed this practise. It is difficult to conceive of a seriotis spiritual ]ire that does not either consciously or unconsciously make use of all the essential.elements of the particular examen. I desire God with all my heart. I want to serve Him perfectly. I look to see what hinders me in this service. I resolve to avoid it, and I keep checking to make sure that I am avoiding it. Thisis the particu-lar examen. Were I deliberately to omit any of these elements, one would not he judging rashly to doubt the sincerity of my purpose. And so we can understand why St. Ignatius, a great mystic, would practise the particular examen faithfully to the day of his death. We do not find strange the words of another great contemplative, St. Margaret Mary: "It seems to me that one of the best means for advancing in perfection is the use of the particular examen on the fault we have resolved to root out, and on the contrary virtue which we desire to acquire. We must mark our faults in a little book sO that we can impose on ourselves some penance for them at the end of the day" (The Letters of S~in~ M~rgare~ Mary Alacoque, translated by Clarence A. Herbst, S.J. [Chicago: Regnery, 1954], p. 93). We can understand why St. Ignatius insisted on the particular examen with two of his most famous and busiest sons, Fathers Lainez and Le Jay, when he sent them to the Council of Trent at the request of Pope Paul III to be the Pope's theologians. He gave them several pages of directives on how to conduct themselves at the Council, but for their personal lives only two counsels. One of these "was to be faithful to their particular examen. It is interesting to note how he describes this, marking out clearly what is essential in the practise. He tells them i "In. the morning resolve, and examine yourselves twice a day." So often we are tempted to confuse the essence, which is wholly interior, with some of the helps culled by St. Ignatius from the lives of the saints or learned from his own experience. These he gives 263 PAUL W. O'BRIEN Review far Religious us as "additions," to be used if they help and in so far as they help. He tells us that it has helped him and others to "lay one's hand on his breast repenting when he has fallen"--a simple action that makes our return to God more conscious and makes it easier to remember our falls. He also advises that we note our falls in a little book so as to control our progress. Some find that an equivalent effect can be attained without marking, by imposing a suitable penance in proportion to the falls. We know that St. Ignatius used to repair his failings with additional strokes of the discipline. Progressive Adaptation of the Subiect Once we have understood the nature of the particular examen--it is an instrument of vigilant control; and the method ~ that this vigilance, a state of soul, must begin with the first moment of the day and be continued throughout, while the control is exercised chiefly during the noon and night exa-men, we are in a pdsition to .take up the critical question of our growth in the particular examen. This will involve the constant adaptation of the subject and the mode of operation to a changing spiritual life. And here a word of caution. St. Ignatius, when giving us in the Exercises the "bare bones" of his method, intends it to be given to all types of souls. He will give it to those who have little talent, to those whose generosity is not up to par, to those who will be sent away as unfit for a long retreat, and at the same time .he will give it to a Xavier, a F.aber, to those "who desire .to profit in every possible way." Obviously he ex-pects it to be adapted. He himself indicates in the Exercises this adaptation, giving us clues on choosing the subject of the examen. In the "method" itself he proposes "sins and defects". In his first method of prayer, which is a meditated examen he indicates virtues ("The better to avoid these sins, let one re-solve and endeavor., to acquire the virtues contrary to them"). And during t~e whole time of the long retreat he in-dicates a subject that will thoroughly baffle one who has not grasped the essence of the examen. He asks the retreatant to make his examen on "~he rooting out of defects and negligences in the exercises or additions." Now these ten additions, to say nothing of the exercises, involve such varied acts as my last thought on retiring, my first thought in the morning, my posture 264 September, 1960 PARTICULAR EXAMEN in prayer, my silence during the day, my reading, the amount of light to be let into my room, and so on. How can these varied acts be the subject of a particular examen? What is particular about them? What unifies them? It is here I believe that we have the principle of adaptation. St. Ignatius realizes that the fruit of the retreat, the total love and service of God in all things, depends on keeping alive and active the "desire to profit in egery way possible." It is this desire for perfection that gives unity to the various minute prescriptions, which all center around this desire and are but so many means of actuat-ing and stimulating it. Centered Around My Dominant Attraction Note that though this desire for perfection is the driving force of the soul, it is not the subject of the particular examen. The tendency to the end is never the subject of the examen; it deals rather with the means, the concrete, individual acts by which I actuate and nourish this tendency. Thus for example I do not make my examen on union with God (which is the end), but rather.on the concrete acts by means of which I procure this union with God. Now though the particular examen may be directed toward any urgent need of the soul (as when the soul needs patience for a particularly trying situation), still normally it should be centered around the dominant attraction of the soul. This of course will vary from soul to soul, and even in the same soul, especially in the beginning when the dominant attraction may not yet be clearly defined. It is practically impossible to keep up interest, to keep all my powers alert and vigilant throughout the day, if the question at issue is only of secondary importance, For the particular examen to succeed, it must be of vital interest to me; it must be so selected that I can throw all the weight of my effort into keeping it, knowing.that in keeping it, I assure the critical point in my progress. Usually if my retreat resolu-tions have been intelligently made, the particular examen will aim at their execution. Hence the major lines of attack will probably revolve around prayer, fidelity to duty, self-denial, purity of intention and purity of affection, simply because these are the pivotal points of our spiritual life. Now as my spiritual life grows and changes, so the particu-lar examen must change. When the soul is plodding through the 265 PAUL W. O~BRIEN Review fo'r Religious early stages of its purification, when it finds a multitude of ill-ordered tendencies blocking its way to God, it is not surpris-ing that its examen will center on progressively ridding itself of these sins and defects. It is but co-operating with the dominant action of God. During this peribd the soul is usually practising discursive prayer, as it reasons its way through the motives of the spiritual life and bhilds itself, up for the struggle. The process of simplification has not yet set in, and hence it does not find this variety in its prayer and examen a burden. The examen fits it. Progress Through Simplification But as the soul becomes more purified, it finds the example of Jesus more attractive. Its orientation becomes more positive. There is a movement towards simplification. Does this mean that the soul has no more defects to correct? Not at all. The soul may never reach this state. It means only that now the dominant tendency of the soul has changed. It finds the piece-meal consideration of the virtues less attractive. It begins to find a unity to its life in a dominant attraction- some attitude of love, or abandonment, or conformity to God's will. It finds its life becoming less a series of disparate acts and more the progressive actuation of this dominant attraction, this loving sacrifice 5f itself to a God vaguely perceived. And the same grace that is simplifying its prayer, making it impossible to reason from one truth to~ another, is also at work simplifying its examen, drawing it to center around the dominant drive of its soul. During this period of its progress it is being drawn strongly towards the essence of perfection, the total renuncia-tion spoken of ,in the GOspel, towards the choice in love of the poverty and humiliations of Christ crucified. It is well here to call attention to several subjects of the particular examen recommended by St. Ignatius himself. Writ-ing to the Jesuit scholastics of Portugal. on June 1, 1551, he urges them to examine themselves on these two points: "They must exercise themselves in finding God in all things, whether they hold converse with someone, go for a walk, look about., in all that they do . " And secondly: "And they must offer frequently to God our Lord all their studies and works, taking care that they accept them out of love for Him, putting aside their likes and dislikes that they may serve His Majesty in something." 266 September, 1960 PARTICULAR EXAMEN One might wonder how such a positive examen could be marked. Two ways are suggested: I may determine in advance the times and places in which I should make these acts, for example, before each new duty, and then mark my failures. Or I may mark the number of positive acts unless the number is too large and the process becomes complicated. In this case it is better to mark the general tone of the period with. A, B, C. How often we come across a good soul that has mistaken the essence of the particular examen and assures you that he doesn't make any examen. And yet all the essential elements are there. I don't know whether the Little Flower intended the follow!ug to be her particular examen, but see if it doesn't ful-fill the definition : a watchful control over the dominant tendency of the soul--realized in conc.rete acts, for example, of sacri-fice, purity of intention, and purity of affection. She writes in her Autobiography: "But this love of mine, how to show it? Love needs to be proved by action. Well even a little child can s~atter flowers, to perfume the throne-room with their fra-grance; even a little child can sing, in its shrill treble, the great canticle of love. That shall be my life, to scatter flowers m to miss no single opportunity of making some small sacrifice, here by a smiling look, there by a kindly word, always doing the tiniest things right, and doing it for love" (°Autobiography of St. Thdr~se of Lisieux, translated by Ronald Knox [New York: Kenedy, 1958], p. 237). And when she fails? "Sometimes I miss the chance of making them, sacrifices that give me such peace of soul; but I don't lose heart. I just resign myself to the loss of One peaceful hour, and try to be more on my guard another time" (p. 299). Now I don't know whether St. Therese marked her failings (I suspect that she didn't), or whether she just tried to make innumerable acts of love; but in any case knowingly or unknowingly, she was furnishing all the essential elements of an authentic Ignatian examen: the watchful control over a dominant tendency of love, actuated in acts of sacrifice and devotion to her tiniest duties. Before the Holy and Loving God There is one other aspect of this simplification that must be touched on briefly. Not only does the subject of the examen vary, but likewise the mode of operation. In other words the type of one's pr.:yer is reflected in the way one makes his 267 PAUL W. O'BRIEN examen. When in the early stages of one's purification the prayer is more discursive, the soul is more likely to be taken up with itself, to be reasoning its way to sorrow and amendment, to proceed from knowledge of itself to knowledge of God. But as the soul advances and its prayer becomes more simple, it reaches out more intuitively for God, fixing its gaze on God rather than on self. Instead of looking at self with its defects and reasoning to God, it looks rather at God and sees self in His light. Under the gaze of such a God, holy and loving, it finds its faults more repugnant, its sorrow more intimate, its trust more filial. But its gaze remains fixed primarily on God. Its examen has now grown to the stature of its prayer. When we have understood this growth and simplification of our particular examen, many of its problems will be solved, but not all. As long as it remains that most effective instru-men for eliminating self from our lives, it will meet with opposition, and chiefly from ourselves. But for that very reason, we will cling to it until it guide us to the goal that has always been its aim m a perfect service of God in unselfish love. 268 Spiritual Conferences Thomas Dubay, S. M. BECAUSE the study on retreats presented in these pages several years ago (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 15 [1956], 3-10, 91-96, 128-34, 177-84, 253-62, 301-8) seems to have achieved a purpose both for retreatants and retreat masters alike, I have thought it advisable to write up another aspect of that study that has not yet been published. That aspect deals With the spiritual conference usually given to religious communities throughout the course of the year. The vast ma-jority (something over 99 %) of the 700 sisters who participated in our study are in favor of the spiritual conference, provided it is given by an interested and capable priest. We can no better express their collective endorsement of the institution than by a representative cross-section of their views: The greatest need on the missions is for regular spiritual conferences by religious . To me they seem always very inspiring and almost a necessity, especially when a load of work distracts . If the talks were "helpful, at least once a month-otherwise I see no point to them. ¯ . . Motherhouses are generally well taken care of in this regard. Sunday sermons, retreat Sunday conferences care for this matter well. On the missions at least one conference a month preferably on retreat Sunday would be a real blessing. Listening to parish sermons frequently does little good for religious in their own spiritual life . If we are to know and love our Lord we cannot hear too much about Him . Once a week would be wonderful. We need much spiritual (food) and do not always have it. It is really uplifting to listen to a spiritual talk when one's soul and heart crave for it. We miss it especially here at . One Father comes once a month and he is always welcome. His talks are. most helpful and uplifting. Too bad he cannot come oftener. The sisters were not lacking in reasons for their welcoming of the well-prepared spiritual conference. Typical of those reasons are the following: We spend so much time "being busy about many things," it would be well to take time out-about one-half hour-for a little spiritual refresh: ment, encouragement and exhortation . These are very helpful insofar as they keep all the religious closer together in striving toward their The Reverend Thomas Dubay is stationed at Notre Dame Seminary, 2901 S. Carrollton Avenue, New Orleans 18, Louisiana. 269 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious goal in a common manner . The sisters need something that is iust for them. Often Sunday sermons are directed to groups present . Without occasional (weekly) conferences on some point of our religious life, we get to see only the material side of the work and our (so-called) monotonous life becomes a burden; consequently we miss graces that should draw us closer to God . The conferences throughout the year are, perhaps, of greater importance than the annual retreat and too few religious are fortunate enough to have these. At the annual retreat a sister is prepared to make the most of whatever material the retreat-master will present-the retreat is seldom a completely barren experience. However, it is sad that sisters get so little spiritual help during the year while they are busy with work and problems. It seems evident that the average priest does not consider extra assistance to religious neces-sary . As I said, I'm hungry for spiritual food . Unless we have something to encourage us and help us keep our goal in mind, we tend to become lax and seem to slip into bad habits instead of growing in the spiritual life. To these reasons for the value of the regular spiritual eonferenee I would add two bthers that are perhaps reasons for the reasons. The first is that psychologically the spoken word, all else being equal, produces more effect on us than does the written. This is true not only in religious matters but in secular as well. We human beings are just so made up that an earnestly spoken message is, other things being equal, considerably more moving than an identical written one. It is a simple fact of experience that a person-with-a-message is mueh more effective than a book-with-a-message. Blessed is the religious community that can have at least one well-prepared eonferenee eaeh week given by a holy and interested priest. Sisters are human and social, and so they, too, need the support and enlightenment and push .that derive from the word of God in .telligently and holily announeed. Spiritual reading is excellent . . . but insufficient. The second reason is that 'providentially faith de facto still comes through hearing, despite .the vast flow from modern presses. St. Paul's insistence on the preached "good news" .is pertinent in our day just as it .was in his. Religious, being human like all the rest of men, need the enlightening, moving, and bolstering effeet of God's word as presented by a Church-commissioned herald. Frequency HOW often ought the spiritual conference to be woven into the typical religious community's work year? As we might ex- 270 September, 1960 SPIRITUAL (~0NFERENCES pect, opinions vary widely all the way from the few who would like conferences twice a week (or even a daily homily at Mass) to the other few who would prefer none at all. Approximately sixty per cent of the sisters queried reflected a contentment with the common practice of the monthly conference, while the remaining forty per cent (approximately) were almost equally divided in preferring conferences every week and once every two weeks. From reading the sisters' comments, however, I came away with the impression that a goodly number of the sixty per cent group would like conferences more frequently than once a month if (1) they were competently prepared and given, and (2) if obstacles (lack of time, for example) could be removed. We may note some of the typical .comments that were. offered on this question of the frequency of spiritual con-ferences : The need would depend on the spiritual benefits of a similar nature available i.n a particular environment; for example, in a motherhouse the Sunday sermons are keyed "to the needs" of religious. Sisters stationed in city parishes would welcome more conferences . Once a week (her preference) almost seems like spiritual gluttony-but I suppose if a lot of vocal prayers were omitted from the daily horarium and more time allowed for meditation, spiritual reading and mental prayer, one wouldn't ask for spiritual conferences so often . A profitable homily at Sunday's Mass is most inspiring- and almost all we have time for apart from an extra conference on retreat Sunday once a month . Every two weeks if the conferences are really designed for religious and are not just ordinary good sermons . I believe that one conference a week is certainly not too much to keep a professed sister on the right path . If we have one week a spiritual conference by a priest, the next week one by our superior in connection with the chapter of faults, we have enough for reflection and practice. What's the use of so many conferences if we don't do half of what we hear? . . . If a priest was really in-terested in giving them, weekly; but otherwise, never. We have them monthly; but so many assigned can't stand the assignment, so nothing gained . Once a month; oftener, during Advent and Lent . I would say every week if it were not too ditBcult to work into a priest's schedule. Also if the sister's program is not overcrowded . Retreat Sunday is an. ideal time due to the fact that we are more recollected and pressing duties do not permit it oftener . Once a week can be a tremendous help in keeping steady, particularly where one works constantly with seculars! It is an absolute, necessity . The oftener, the better- but our time is so very limited. Furthermore, most 271 THOMAS DUBAY Review /or Religious priests seem to lack time for preparation; therefore, they either read something or talk aimlessly. Often my private sp~tual reading benefits me more . That depends on the amount of time.you have and the amount the conference takes. Once a month seemed the accepted norm as it would be rather dii~cult to arrange ,most schedules for a weekly conference. A reasonable judgment on the most desirable frequency of spiritual conferences seems to me dependent on a number of conditions and distinctions. The first of the distinctions is that between the ideal and the real, between what is objectively the best and what is actually, obtainable. The first of the conditions is that the conferences be worthwhile, that they profit the sisters, that they be prepared and given by an interested, com-petent priest. I can see no point in boring a religious community with a mediocre conference that could be as .inspiringiy read from any ordinary book of spiritual reading, but I can see a great deal of point in enlightening a community with a theo-logically- based, strongly motivating series of conferences. The second distinction lies in the amount of training the sisters have had in theology and Sacred Scripture. If a particular group of religious have perhaps the equivalent of thirty to forty hours of college-level religion to their credit, they obviously stand in less need of frequent conferences than another group with a highschool-level grasp of their faith. But, despite the progress initiated by the Sister Formation Conferences, there are few sisters today who have what we may call a thorough training in theology and Sacred Scripture. Our third distincl~ion bears on the amount of time available in the sisters' weekly schedules. Those schedules are admittedly jam-packed already. Why pack them more tightly? I carry no brief for jamming schedules, but I do carry one for the thesis that the first reason a girl becomes a religious is to further and hasten her personal sanctification. Hence, ! would curtail some of the vocal prayers and works of the apostolate so that she may engage sufficiently in those spiritual exercises that are most effecti-~e in nourishing her interior life of prayer and love. If these distinctions be properly drawn, I think it follows that a good spiritual conference once a week is not too much for the typical community of religious. But it may be too much for the typical priest. ~n_d. here is where I think the real problem lies. The priest with time on his hands is a rare ~creature these 272 September, 1960 SPIRITUAL CONFERENCES days. So, perhaps,, we need not look for a leisure laden con-ference master. He may not be the type the sisters need, anyway. An old dictum has it that when you want something done, yo.u should ask a busy man to do it. Superiors, therefore, should search long and hard . . . until they find. For their part priests should be generous when religious call for conferences. While it happens that a particular priest simply cannot take on any more extra work, yet before he reaches that decision he should reflect that he can hardly do anything better with his time than to devote at least some of it to consecrated souls. After priests themselves, who are closer to the heart of Christ than our sisters and brothers ? Availability of Competent Priests Intimately tied up with the problem of the frequency of spir!tual conferences is the supply of priests able and willing to give enlightened explanations of matters spiritual. To this point the sisters returned over and over again: It is not so easy to get priests for monthly conferences . There are only diocesan priests at a' convenient distance and they i]nd it burden-some to take care o~ this more than twice a year . Sisters go from one retreat to another without a single conference. I~ only priests would o~er to give us a share in their knowledge of things spiritual. We hesi-tate asking them because o~ their pleading o~ "inability". Should not priests be trained for it (conference giving) and made available?. I think we badly need these conferences, but unless they are given by priests interested in sisters and also well prepared in ~their subiects they will not be very helpful . This depends on the priest giving them. My check (once a week) presupposes a priest who is really interested in the spiritual' welfare o~ those to whom he gives the conferences, assuredly not one who regards the giving o~ :them just an added Chore in his busy li~e . I highly approve o~ the conferences, but in many cases the priest appointed makes it a terrible thing to sit through, because he isn't too anxious to give the conference himsel~ . This, too, depends upon the speaker. I~ he is good- once a week. I~ he reads from a book- "not at all" would suit me . It depends on the person giving the conferences. Some might just as well be read from a spiritual book . I would say once a week i~ there were time. I would want a competent. priest- not just one who happened to be locally available and who might not be the best spiritual advisor for sisters . Retreat and :conferehce masters should have something helD~ul to oiler and not expect the Holy (~host to do it all for them. I'hope this is not blasphemous or heretical. I do believe in the work o~ the Holy Spirit, but the one through whom 273 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious He speaks should ~e as good an instrument as possible. Communities should rather say they have no one than send one who merely keeps us on a chair for a required time. Forgive And we could cite more. Yet, at the same time there is some-thing to be said for the poor conference master. He is often a man already heavily burdened with his ordinary work (as the sisters realize), and perhaps cannot put all the time he would like in preparing his message. At other times he simply is not cut out for work with religious. His grasp of the principles of the interior life is quite adequate for most of his work with the laity, but it may not be deep enough or. understanding enough for the sisters' needs. And there is not much that we can do about that. Individual priests, .how.ever, can and ought to per-fect their knowledge of the finer points of the spiritual life and its applications to those living under the vows of religion. They should remember that a tremendous degree of glory is given to God by raising one ordinarily good soul to higher de-grees of sanctity and that our sisters are almost without .ex-ception eager recipients of whatever will help them to love God more. Subjects for Spiritual Conferences As we might expect, there is a wide variety of opinion as to what type of subject matter is most desirable for spiritual conferences to religious. While I do not think this is the kind of prQblem that ought to be solved by the counting up of opinions, I do believe that the sisters' preferences are surely worth noting. Among the religious who participated in our study we can distinguish almost three equally strong types of prefer-ence. One wished the spiritual conference to center .chiefly on the explanation of Sacred Scripture. The second group preferred " the subject matter to deal with dogmatic and moral theology. The third section was content with ascetical and mystical theology together with the ordinary retreat meditation topics. It is hardly needful to point out that these three preferences are hardly mutually exclusive. A solid explanation of Sacred Scripture cannot avoid theology, whether, it be dogmatic, ascetical, or moral. Nor can the latter be treated properly with-out generous references to the word of God contained in the sacred writings. In comment on their preferences the sisters had the following points to make. 274 September, 1960 SPIRITUAL CONFERENCES I think the above list is important and greatly needed by us, but for practical purposes a series of conferences on the supernatural life, our in-corporation in Christ, the mystical body would help us rise .above the materialism in which we live. Perhaps we need the theological and scrip-tural treatment first, but I do know we need to have our hearts warmed as well as our heads enlightened in order to live to the full the wonder- ¯ fulness of our vocation . The Church has developed a wonderful plan for our sanctificatio~ in her seasons and feasts. Very few priests help us to follow it . This depends on each separate community whose i~dividual approach to sanctity emphasizes different aspects. The knowl-edge o.~ dogmatic ~ind moral theology is essential for nuns; and ff it cannot be gained by any other means, the monthly conference should be used for that purpose . Certainly not always the same .subjects, please! . . . As teachers we'd like something we can use ourselves and something we can present to others . I am particularly interested in learning how to get the most out of the New Testament . Not only can we use Sacred Scripture in our daffy lives, but it becomes easier to pass on to our pupils and those with whom we come in contact . (I would like an) explanation o'f mystical prayer and our call to it as members of the mystical body of Christ. Too many have warped ideas on the word, mysticism, and associate it with visions, locutions, and such. An additional subject for a conference I'd like to suggest is: scandal, known and unknown, that we religious are a source of to the laity. Example: careless genuflection, sign of the cross, worldliness in our speech, reading, manners, and so forth . Using the same subjects as retreat meditations could be a means of keeping alive throughout the year the contents of the annual ~'etreat . Nlost sisters would like Sacred Scripture applied. You have to know your audience. If they walk in the way of mystical prayer, the finer points would be welcome. I think the majority would not receive enough benefit from dogmatic and moral theology unless they have a background in it. Father, many sisters lead deeply spiritual lives and we are not so interested in your learning as such, as we are in knowing that you firmly live and believe your doctrine . This is the real need for American sisters- a weekly doctrinal or theological sermon to give us depth, so that we will make meaningful and significant contributions to the apostolate in Which we work. Upon reading this collection of variant opinions a priest might well say to himself that he is bound to displease some-body no matter on what subject he may speak. But it is con-versely true that he is also bound to please somebody! As I indicated above, I do not feel that this problem of conference subject matter is to be decided by a spiritualized Gallup poll. Rather, I think that once grasping the sisters' needs as they 275 THOMAS DUBAY Review ]or Religious see them, each conference master must decide for himself what will do his audience the most spiritual good. His decision, how-ever, should be reached under the double light of this particular community (its background, needs, spirituality, and so on) and his own particular talents. The former of these two points is clear; the latter demands a word of comment. Just as th~ frequency of conferences is conditioned by the availability of priests, so is the subject matter of those con-fei- ences conditioned by the comPetency of the master. Not every priest can give enlightened conferences on dogmatic or moral theology, on .asceticism or mysticism, or on Sacred Scrip-ture. And a,~riest who is competent in one of these fields is not by that fact alone competent in the others. But here we are speaking Of the ideal. Practically, religious will have for the most part to 'be content, with something less. than the expert, andthat something less will usually suffice aft long as the priest prepare his conferences carefully. It seems to me that the ideal spirit~ual conference is free from the two extremes of the merely exhortatory and of the classroom lecture. Although a few of the sisters seemed in their observations to envision the conference as a kind of class in dogmatic or moral theology, I personally do not believe that such is its main purpose. While a good conference will aid a sister in teaching its subject matter in her classroom, the prime purpose of that conference is not her professional preparation but her spiritual development in love for God. The motivating and exhortatory elements, therefore, may not be neglected. And yet the spiritual conference should be built around a strong core of theology that delves more deeply into revelation than would a conference given to novices. An apparently simple subject such as humility should not be treated in the same way for a. group of mature religious as it is for a class of novices. For older religious a conference on humility should include some of the virtue's finer points together with a discussion of the more subtle manifestations of pride that arise with, age, responsibility, accomplishment, recognition and perhaps fame. Mature religious ordinariIy should not .be given the same kind of primer material°that they have already received at the dawn of their consecrated lives. For them~ too, repetition is boring. One item more. In their comments on ~the subject matter and frequency of spiritual conferences, a number of the sisters 276 September, 1960 SPIRITUAL CONFERENCES expressed the view that a series of conferences progressively building upon one theme is preferable to a change of subject from talk to talk. A series of conferences on one subiect is more profitable, I think, than a complete new subject each time. This is my individual thought . I would like a particular theme or topic for each year, following a pattern like The Three Ages of the Interior Life by Garrigou-Lagrange- one conference built on the preceding one, for example . (I would like) conferences given on a rein-eat day and following a set plan for the year . Would like to have the conferences develop a topic from week to week rather than just give superfidial "smatterings." Lecturer must be able to inspire confidence that he knows his subject . I would like all of these (subiects) included but a planned .program for the spiritual conferences and every spiritual conference, regardless of topic; made prac-tical but not sacrificing depth for practicality. ". My community has conferences monthly. When properly organized by the priest who gives them (save us from haphazard work!) they could be of great value weekly. With these opinions I concur, but I do not think that we need make any iron-bound rule about the matter, nor do I think the sisters intended such. On occasion it may be helpful to include a conference on a topic not dealing with the current series material. Miscellaneous Observations Although the point may seem obvious, it may not be useless to observe that the priest chosen to give conferences to a religious community ought not to be their ordinary confessor, perhaps no confessor of theirs at all. Our reason for noting this point is not that there is a danger that he may reveal con-fessional matter, but rather that he may seem to be referring to something he has heard in the sacred tribunal, when actually he is saying something in conference that he would have surely said in any event. This possibility of seeming to touch upon confessional matters can be most uncomfortable for the priest and perhaps also for an individual hearer. It can be easily dis-posed of by separating the two offices of confessor and conference .master. At least two of the sisters in their written comments sug-gested that the priest give his listeners an bpportunity to ask questions. Said one of the sisters:~ "If these (conferences) could be given some place other than the chapel so that the 277 THOMAS DUBAY sisters could ask questions and make comments, I think more .good would be accomplished. Give the sisters an outline of the topics to be covered with some references. Allow them to ask questions and make it a learning situation rather than a passive and sleeping situation." This idea, I think, is a good one. But if I may judge from past experience in conducting question periods with religious women during conference time, the priest may have some difficulty in getting the sisters to ask questions. Unfortunately, I think the sisters at times fear that their questions may appear foo.lish, and so they prefer to remain silent. This fear is ill-founded in my opinion, for I have found both their questions and their observations intelligent and thought provoking. We need not insist on the point that once the ice has been broken and the sisters are discussing freely, there is no problem in getting them .to continue talking! Understandably~ enough, the sisters laid considerable em-phasis on the choice of an optimum time of the day and the week for the spiritual conference : They should be given sometime ,when we have time to think about them afterwards; for example, Saturday night Or Sunday, not on a school day. . . Please don't give them at the time of the day ~vhen the sisters are exhausted after a more than full day of work and prayer . Once a week would be excellent, if you aren't too loaded down with teaching activities. It's hard to appreciate a confer.ence when you have no idea when your lessons are to be prepared . Speaking as one on a mission, if the daily schedule were not too heavy, once a week would be fine and then it could substitute for some parish service. The last remark is especially worthwhile. If it is agreed that faith comes through hearing and that, as a consequence, the spiritual conference is of central importance for a religious' growth in love for God, it would seem to follow that other less needed a~tivities and exercises be curtailed or omitted in order to make time available. This problem can be solved by superiors alone. The difficulties involved in securing for religious commu-nities regular, frequent, and sound spiritual conferences are admittedly knotty ones; and we do not suppose that in the limited confines of this article we have solved them. Suitable solutions, I think, can be reached in the concrete only by some original thinking on the part of superiors and by a spirit of sacrifice on the i~ar~ of ?.)riests invited to participate in this noble task. 278 Prayer and Action Columban Browning, C. P. with the ever-increasing needs of the Church, a question comes to the fore that is very crucial. The question concerns the relative merits and importance of two essential elements of the religious life, prayer and action. Much has been written and many discussions held on this subject. The general tenor of most of the books and articles written about it is familiar enough. We are reminded repeatedly that the first obligation of every religious is to be closely united with God, or to be a saint. With this unquestiofiable fact as a point of emphasis, we are forcefully reminded that our apostolic work is only secondary. Those who write such books and articles invariably cite the well known text from St. John of the Cross: "An instant of pure love is more precious in the eyes of God and to the soul and more profitable to the Church tha~ all other good works put together." (Spiritual Canticle, Stanza 28). No one can question such a position. If we were to deny that the perfect love of God is the goal of every soul,, all else would of necessity fall with it. But unfortunately we are left with the impression that the active life is an obstacle to holiness and that therefore we must undertake it with many misgivings. As a result we may be led to believe that the terms primary and secondary end of the religious life should be translated as helpful and harmful. It is regrettable that so many religious have a faulty under-standing of the relative place of prayer and action in the life they live for God. And false attitudes in this as in all things can cause untold conflict and harm. In. this matter we are dealing with two elements that are essential to religious living; accord-ingly they can and must be harmonized. The Importance of Prayer Of the two things that we are considering, prayer and union With God is unquestionably first in importance. A re-ligious whose heart and soul are not centered on God is a mis-guided soul and hardly a good religious. Such a one is failing The Reverend Columban Browning is stationed at Saint Gabriel Monastery, 1100 63rd Street, Des Moines 11, Iowa. 279 COLUMBAN BROWNING Review for Religious in his own basic purpose in life and is hardly qualified to lead others to Him. The desire to make God the center of one's Own heart is then a basic necessity. The reasonsfor this are very evident : 1) The basic need for prayer and union with God flows primarily from the fact that we are creatures of God, made by His hands for His own glory. As creatures of God we are totally dependant upon Him. All that we have has come from Him as must every grace that we hope for in the future. He has made us to know, love, and serve Him in this world in order that we might be happy with Him in heaven. Our life without God is meaningless, and to seek anything apart from God's will is to rob Him of His glory. Our desire .to lead others to God must flow from the realization that they are made for the same purpose and that God has a right to their love and service. It is very evident then, that the most basic reason why. we must seek God first in our own personal life is because we are creatures of His and as such are totally dependent upon - Him. 2) The second reason why prayer and union with God must come first in the life of a religious comes from the °nature of the Christian and religious life. The Christian life itself, of which the religious life is but the perfection, is an entirely su-pernatural life. At baptism we were lifted out of the realm of mere creatures of God and became His childrhn. This wonderful transformation came about through the infusion of the precious life of sanctifying grace in our soul. At that moment our life ceased to be merely natural and becameentirely supernatural. By our religious vocation we have been called to live that supernatural life more fully. And what else is a supernatural life but a life centered on God? The goal, then, of the re.ligious is evidently to bring his soul to unfold more and more to God. This is another way of saying that he is called to a life of prayer and union with God. 3) The third reason why prayer is so important in the life of a religious is an extrinsic one. It is the spirit of the world in which he lives and works. Even in our Lord's time He warned about possible contamination by the spirit of the world. That spirit in our own day is all the more worldly and therefore an even greater threat to fidelity to God. The religious of today is surrounded by that worldly spirit and .is exposed to 280 September, 1960 PRAYER AND ACTION its influence daily. Granting that the love and service of God is the foremost duty of the religious, it follows of necessity that he must devote himself all the more earnestly to a life of prayer and union with God if he is to stay above the allurements of this world. We see then the vital importance of prayer in the life of a religioug, seeing that he is a creature of God; called to the perfection of the supernatural life, and this in a milieu that is not always the most favorable. The Importance of Apostolic Activity But to stress the need for prayer is not to deny the neces-sity and value of apostolic activity. The basic need for such work is also easy to demonstrate from a number of reasons: 1) Let us point out first the general need that human beings must.work in some way. By disobeying Godl our first parents lost the privileges that God had conferred upon them in the beginning. Among the penalties imposed upon them was the duty of laboring by the sweat of their brow. None of the descendants of Adam and Eve is exempt from this penalty for sin. The religious, sublime though his vocation is, is not exempt from the law of labor, not even cloistered contemplative re-ligious. Plus XII in one of his allocutions urged this duty in a special way on the members of cloistered communities. Cer-tainly the same duty rests all the more on. those called to active communities. The nature of the work the religious does may differ from that of people in the world. But the duty re-mains as a direct consequence of original sin. 2) A second reason why work is necessary derives from the very union with God to which we are called. This point can best be made by quoting the great Thomistic commentator, Cajetan: "Let spiritual directors note this and let them see to it that their disciples are, first of all, exercised in the active life before proposing to them the heights of contemplation. One must, in fact, tame one's passions by habits of meekness, patience, etc. in order to be able, once the passions have been dominated, to rise to the contemplative life. In default of this previous exercise in asceticism, many who instead of walking rush along the ways of God, find themselves after having de-voted a great part of their lives to contemplation devoid of all the virtues, impatient, irritable, proud, if they are put to the least test. Such persons have neither an active nor a contempla- 281 COLUMBAN BROWNING Review for Religious tive life, nor the combination .of the two, but have rather built upon sand, and would to God that this were a rare blunder" (Commentary on the summa. Theologiae, 1-2, 182, 1). It is clear then that self discipline is necessary to achieve union with God and there is no means of discipline more constructive than that which is learned in apostolic work. 3) Our third reason for the importance of apostolic work is seen from the crying needs of the Church. in the modern world. Souls in need are there by the thousands. They are all created by God for His glory and they are in danger of being lost to Him forever. The work mus~ be done in so far as humanly possible, and ~what religious is so heartless as to face these great needs with indifference? In His providence, God intends that these neglected souls be saved by us who have been more privileged. To do the work demanded of us we must labor and suffer with Christ, seeking as our only reward the peace that comes from knowing that. souls are being helped. Such work done from the simple motive of serving God need not harm the life of prayer and recollection, which alone gives the work its direction and purpose. We do not mean to imply, of course, that prudence should be thrown to the w~nd.in our efforts to meet the crying needs of the .Church. Just because the work is there to be done does not mean thatsuperi0rs can drive their subjects to their death. Two simple principles must govern us in our approach to this work. They are: (1) health must be safeguarded lest our ability to work is abruptly ended with little accomplished, (2) the work must not be so intensive that no time is left for spiritual nourishment, without which the soul will dry up and die of starvation and thus put an end .to its usefulness in the service of God. But the fact that there are potential dangers does not derogate from the importance and the value of that work as such. Harmonizing Prayer and Action We are dealing with two things, both of which are es-sential elements in the service of God. There must be a life of prayer, else there will be no direction or purpose in the re-ligious life. There must also be work of s~me kind for the upbuilding of the mystical~body of Christ. This work may take on different forms depending upon the type of community to which one belongs. But without work of some kind, the life of 282 September, 196o PRAYER AND ACTION prayer itself will dry up and become barren. In active commu-nities work means absorption in many intense activities for the good of souls. The two elements, prayer and action, must never be looked upon as opposites that cannot possibly be reconciled. Admittedly, to balance the two without allowing either of them to suffer is a delicate art and cannot be achieved quickly. 'An amount of difficutly must be expected, .especially in the beginning. But the difficulties should ~not lead one to think that this balance is impossible. Persevering, patient effort is necessary. The religious will find himself at times concentrating on the one element to the detriment of the other. Many mistakes will be made. But through these very mistakes the soul will become gradually more humble and dependent upon God. And as this happens, he will become more attuned to God and peace and harmony will gradually come about. Perhaps the best key to success in attaining this harmony is in the proper attitude of mind. We must see both our life of prayer and our life of work as two aspects of the same thing- our faithful service of God. In both we must seek the same God and do so with the conviction that in both He can be found. When work is demanding, we should realize that we are working for God and tl~at He is pleased by our efforts, even though they may be fumbling efforts at times. Even if the work is of such an absorbing nature that we cannot be as directly attentive to God as we would like, we must not become .unduly disturbed but humbly and simply do the work for God. On the other hand, when it is time for prayer We should not worry and fret over the work that must be neglected but rather realize that without our prayer we will not be prepared to do the work as it should be done -- for the love of God. The religious must keep in mind the purpose of his voca-tion. It is a .call to seek God with all his heart. This means that in all things he must seek God and that in all things God can be found. He must pray with all his heart and. keep God in the center of his own life. But he must also work with all his energy that he might, lead as many others as possible to love and serve the same God that he loves. The more sincerely and earnestly he pursues both these aspects of his life and directs them both to God, the closer will he come to realizing the purpose of his vocation. 283 La Sallian Prayer for Active Religious Brother F. Joseph, F. S. C. S T. JOHN Baptist de la Salle, founder of the Brothers of the Christian Schools, wrote for his community a manual of mental prayer called Explication de la mdthode ¯ d'oraison. The Method, as we have it in the text of 1739, is notable for at least two reasons. First, it is a method written for an apostolically oriented community. "The Institute of the l~rothers of the Christian Schools is a Society in which pro-fession is made of keeping schools gratuitously.''1 And: "The end of this institute is to give a Christian education to chil-dren . . . ''~ To attain this end, St. La Salle taught his brothers that they had to be men whose speculative and operative faith was to be so strong as to become the prime characteristic of their society. He assigned as the spirit of the institute a spirit of faith and zeal, without which the individual members would lack the vital principle designed to make them valid brothe~s. He described the spirit of faith as: ". a spirit of faith, which should induce those who compose it not to look upon anything but with the eyes of faith, not to do anything but in view of God, and to attribute all to God . . .,,a In other words, the spirit which all the brothers were urged to attain was an attitude of soul which focused their attention away from them-selves and on God. The saint's norm, it will be noted, is a complete one: "not to look upon anything, to att~:ibute all." Its very completeness demands explanation, Obviously, the founder realized that such perfection of supernatural intention is not always achieved in practice and that therefore this prescription of the rule was to be regarded as an ideal always to be striven 1Common Rules and Constitutions of the Brothers o.[ the Christian Schools (Rome: Mother House, 1947), Chapter I, article 1. Referred to hereafter as C. R. ~C./~., Ch. I, a. 4. sC. R., Ch. II, a. 1. Brother F. Joseph is presently teaching at La Salle College, Anselm Hall, Philadelphia 17, Pennsylvania. 284 LA SALLIAN PRAYER for. But because it was an ideal, it enjoyed the privilege of the ideal: to be recalled so frequently that eventually it would become a fixed principle of action, a real final cause determining at least the majority of the human acts of the soul. But the attaining of a God-centered principle of activity like this is not easy. What is involved is a complete conversion of values. The soul must cease to live on a superficial level to descend deeply into reality where Infinite Truth and Infinite Good can exercise their proper control over the decisions of the individual. Again, the soul must cease to act for itself and begin' to act for another ;, and only one who has experienced how deeply the roots of ego-directed .activity plunge into the being of himself will realize the tensions created in a man who wants to purify himself of self. If the intention directing the. p,~rifica-tion is anything short of the attaining of. God's love, the purification must inevitably fail because the intention motivating it still stands within the area to be purified: I want to purify myself so that I can be better. And even if the intention is fixed rigidly on God, the man will still not completely cleanse himself of self, mainly because the last shreds of self-regard are so inextricably entangled, with one's metaphysical self that the only one who can do the untangling is the one who thorough: ly understands that self- God. In short, the man who desires to attain Infinite Good would be wise to deliver himself up to Infinite Truth as. quickly as he can. Otherwise he may find himself in a labyrinth of self-induced ac.~ivity with little or no chance of escape into the light he desires so much. St. La Salle wanted his brothers, to desire God. and His will. But he knew that such a desire had to penetrate deeply into the soul-fiber of each brother before it could become his dis-tinguishing characteristic. And he also knew that the desire would become effective not because his men. had intellects, wills~ and imaginations capable of engendering such a desire; they' hadn't, not~ only because his first brothe~s were anything but ¯ intellectual giants, but chiefly because no man, of. himself, could ~'.~Jroduce the kind of.attitude St. La Salle wasadumbrating. He knelt ~l~t the brothers ' would become God-centered. only if. God. did most of the maneu~cering and the brothers had the sense, ¯ to continue saying "Yes" to God's activity upon. their souls. Therefore, their proper Work was to prepare themselves for God by becoming aware that He is, what He is, and how He 285:. BROTHER F. JOSEPH Review far Religious operates. But St. La Salle, whose knowledge of religious orders ¯ and their external works was extensive, realized that that awareness could, not depend on ,the pervasive kind of God-consciousness that permeates contemplative monasteries where everything tends to lead the soul directly to contact with God. His brothers were to work in a milieu where much would h~ppen to make them lose that awareness- a classroom teetering on the brouhaha that the youngster of the seventeenth-century French slum could concoct with startling suddenness. St. La Salle did all he could to bring the monastery atmosphere into the classroom; he caused the main staple of the classroom prayer to be the hourly and half-hourly recalling of the holy presence of God to all in the room, and he had the rooms decorated with the crucifix and holy pictures. But he also knew that such measures were essentially dependent projections of something more profound and necessary, just as, analogously, the various parts of the Office recited during the day in the monastery were dependent for their full strength upon the com-munal Mass from which the Office radiated. The profound, necessary foundation upon which all the other attentions to God during the day rested was, in St. La Salle's scheme, mental prayer. "The Brothers of this Insti-tute should have a great love for the holy exercise of mental prayer, and they should look upon it as the first and principal of their daily exercises, and one which is the most capable of drawing down the blessing of God on all the others.''4 The reason for the choice is not hard to see. The two half-hours of mental prayer each day that St. La Salle legislated for his brothers were designed specifically to give the brothers training in the awareness of God and the self-dedication to His interests that constituted the essence of their lives. St. La Salle's whole method of prayer was merely a descant on the basic concept: to do all for God, to attribute all to God. He divided his method into three basic parts: the placing of oneself in the presence of God, the dedicating of oneself to the subject of the day, and the reviewing and the thanking God for the graces received. But he made clear to the brothers that the most important part of the prayer was in confronting God in the first part and then staying before Him for all the rest of ~C. Ro, Ch. IV, a. 1. 286 Sep$e~nber, 1960 LA SALLIAN PRAYER the half-hour. The second part of the method was not to be thought of as merely an exercise of the intellect or the imagi-nation; he did not want the body of the prayer to be a compo-sition of place nor a presentation to the will, by the intellect, of divided and subdivided reasons for acting out the conse-quences of some virtue. What he wanted the second part to be was quite simple: another leap into the supernatural world similar to the first part in that it brought the brother face to face with divinity; and different from the first part in that the particular person most often confronted was Christ, but Christ really as a person spoken to, lived with, contemplated, not merely thought about. This sense of otherness that the saintdemanded cannot be overstressed; he wanted his religious to use the mental prayer time almost exclusively for one purpose--to become God-conscious through personal experience of God, because without that conc.entrated attention to God in the morning and evening the brothers could be almost certain that they would not find God in the more diffused activities of the day. And, because the brothers were to spend so much time in those other activ-ities, one can see why the founder wanted them to pay such close attention to God in mental prayer. The prayer was to give them much of what they needed to make the day super-naturally fruitful for themselves and their boys, not by becom-ing a sort of bank upon which the religious could draw as the day proceeded, but by being a seed, pregnant with a life which would blossom and fructify through and by means of the work of the day. Thus, the teaching or the administration or the housework each brother engaged in could become, a vital super-natural experience, a carrying out of God's will, a meeting of the human will with the divine it was destined to be united to. And if he did allow the work to begin in prayer, the work would eventually become' one of the prayer's greatest sources of strength: he had to pray to make his work, which was his life, successful. All one has to read to see how highly St. La Salle regarded the work of the brothers is the following: "You have exercises of piety specially intended to help you towards your own sanctification, it is true, but if you are really zealous for the salvation of your pupils, you will not fail, even in these, to direct your intention towards this end. Thus you will draw down the graces needed to contribute efficaciously to 287 BROTHER F. JOSEPH Review for Religious the salvation of your pupils, and God himself will take care .of your own.''~ We can see, therefore, that St. La Salle's method of prayer was directed towards an apostolically-oriented community. The second consideration I wish to develop is that the M~thode was composed primarily for the novices of the congregation, but not only for them. The primary purpose explains the minutely-segmented series of acts that compose the method: in the first part the method prescribes placing oneself in the presence of God and then m~iking acts of faith, adoration~ and thanksgiving for that presence; acts of humility, confusion, and contrition because of that presence; and acts of application of the merits of Christ, of union with Him, and of impetration for His spirit, in preparation for the second part; the second part prescribes placing before oneself a mystery of Christ, or one of His virtues or His sayings, and then making, before Christ and in union with Him, acts of faith, adoration, thanksgiving for His revelation of divinity through the .mystery, virtue, or saying; acts of confusion, and contrition, because one has not yet com-pletely profited by Christ's work, and an act of application by which one resolves in a definite way to apply Christ's spirit to oneself; an act of union with the special spirit of Christ as He lived the mystery or virtue or saying about which one has been praying; an act of petition for the spirit, and an act of invoca-tion of the saints so that the spirit will be given; and the third part of mental prayer prescribes a rapid review of all .that. had been done during the half-hour, a thanksgiving for the graces received, an act of offering of the prayer and of oneself, and finally an invocation to the Blessed Virgin, possibly the 0 Domina Mea. Even the most harebrained novice should have been able to keep himself occupied with a method that detailed for him almost twenty-five things to be done in thirty minutes. The novice-directed motivation of the Method explains also why the saint actually composed specimen acts for each of the divisions of °the prayer. The book, therefore, in its English edition: consumes 163 pages and is an invaluable introduction to the apostolic, God-centered prayer that St. La Salle desired his brothers to foster. aW. J. Ba~tersby, ed. and tr., De La Salle: Meditations (London: Longmans, Green and .Company, 1953), p. 35. Italics added. 288 September, 1960 LA SALLIAN PRAYER But the Method was not composed only for novices. Certain features Of the book indicate that St. La Salle had no desire to keep his brothers everlastingly making minute-and-a-half acts (or less) so that each morning they could render self-conscious congratulations to themselves that "Yes, I finished my mental prayer today." The founder knew mystical theology both speculatively and experimentally too well to assume that a religious with five or fifteen or fifty years of prayer behind him will be as delighted with so segmented a system of prayer as a flighty novice would be. Therefore he built into his system several types of freedom. For example, he tells his brothers: "We should mention, in reference to our application to the holy presence of God, that we should not dwell on it only for a short time, because it is the exercise that helps, more than any other to procure the spirit of mental prayer and our interior application thereto. We should therefore apply our mind to the presence of God to the exclusion of every other subject, until we find that any further application would be neither easy nor even possible.''6 And he is known to have advised at least one brother not to be afraid to spend a whole year or two on just the first part of mental prayer because, after all, such was the whole purpose of the prayer: to get oneself before God and to stay there. Again, the saint devotes towards the end of the book several pages to outlining five ways of abbreviating the acts so that they do not hamper the freedom of the soul: he tells the brothers they can use fewer words for each act than hE himself had used in the Method; or they can condense in one act the interior spirit of all the others; or they can make just an act of faith in the presence of God and another of adoration, and then omit all the other acts of the first part; or they can spread the acts of the second part over several meditations or concentrate heavily on one act and devote just a few words to all the others; or, very significantly: "When in the course of the exercise, we feel piously inclined to dwell on some sentiment or train of thought which we had not de-cided on beforehand, such as the love of God . . . we should sSt. John Baptist de la Salle, Explanation of the Method of Mental Prayer, translated from the French edition of 1739 (Paris: Procure Gdn~rale, 1912), p. 36. Referred to hereafter as Explanation. The reader is referred to the critical edition of the same work in French: Explication de la Mdthode d'Oraison, texte de 1739, Edition Critique, ed. Fr~re Emile Lett (Paris: Ligel, 1957). 289 BROTHER F. JOSEPH Review for Religious follow this inclination or any similar one, according to the. di-rection of the Holy Spirit, through a sentiment of faith and with a view to acquiring the perfection of our state of life. It is advisable to pursue this train of thought for as long as God is pleased to maintain our interest in the subject, this being a token of his approval.''7 In other words, Ubi Spiri~us Domini, libertas. The Spirit breathes where He wills, and the brothers would be wise to heed Him. But perhaps most significantly for the prayer's freedom is the tripartite division that runs throughout the entire method. St. La Salle~says that each one of the acts can be made in one of three different ways: through multiplied reflections, that is, through the use of many words, many considerations, so that the brother is in almost constant activity manufacturing his acts; or by few but long-continued reflections, about which more will be said below; and by simple attention, in which the brother suspends all words to rest in a simple view of faith concerning, say, God's presence, for a. quarter of an hour or more. St. La Salle regards the simple attention to God as the type of prayer which the experienced religious should cultivate; but he also realizes that it is a prayer which depends heavily on a free gift from God: "There are many souls so interiorly free, so detached from all created things, that God bestows on them this great grace, that they never lose, or only very rarely, the sense of His holy presence; a favour which gives them in this world a foretaste of the happiness of the Blessed in heaven.''8 For those readers experienced enough to be at this stage of prayer, this article has nothing whatever to say. But .for those who tend to ignore the wide gap between the prayer of the beginner which is almost all activity and the prayer of the advanced which is almost all passivity (or perhaps more accurately, almost all active receptivity), perhaps St. La Salle's ideas about his second method might prove helpful. He writes: "An easier means [than using many reflections] of penetrating ourselves with the presence of God in an interior manner is to recall a passage of Holy Scripture referring to the divine presence. We then make a reflection on. this passage, without much reasoning, for this weakens our faith ~E~planation, p. 141. SEzplana~ion, p. 32. 290 September, 1960 LA SALLIAN PRAYER and makes the .conception of the divine presence less vivid and real.''9 He explains the procedure in more detail: "We may make, for instance, the following reflection on this passage: ['I set the Lord always in my sight'] 'that it is a singular p~'ivilege to have the mind filled with the idea of God's holy presence, and that the practice of such an exercise gives a foretaste of the happiness of heaven.' We then dwell simply, and for as long as possible, on the passage of Scripture from this point of view.''1° He warns: "In these reflective processes, we must not allow the mind to be overcome by fatigue, as often happens to beginners; which may result in a dislike for mental prayer. When we find that our attention is no longer held by the first reflection, we should substitute another, which, supply-ing us with a fresh point of view and reawakening our affec-tions, enables us all the more readily to assimilate the truth contained in the passage of Holy Scripture.'.'11 He says again: "When we acquire a certain facility in making reflections on these acts, we should contrive to. use fewer words in the reflec-tions, and remain for some time in an interior silence, in order to let the reflection penetrate our mind in a more interior manner. For the abundance of interior words in mental prayer rather dissipates the mind instead of bringing the soul nearer to God and promoting interior recollection.''~ In other words, the saint desires to lead his brothers away eventually from a prayer in which they are manufacturing words incessantly, because he wants them to become sensitively aware of the movements of the Holy Spirit. But such sensitivity is difficult in a soul given to constant internal chatter. St. La Salle would like his men to be able to enter chapel and .to settle down immediately to a half-hour of simple attention to God; such is the goal he establishes for them. But he also wisely arranges the intermediate steps preparatory to contem-plative prayer. The steps are found in the continually lengthen-ing periods of attentive silence he desires in the second kind of prayer. The silence effects two things simultaneously: it, of necessity, restricts the feverish search for words that tires the religious who has gone over the same ground too frequently in "Explanation, p. 29. 1°Explanation, pp. 29-30. ~Explanation, p. 30. l'~Explana~ion, p. 46. 291 BROTHER F. JOSEPH Review far Religious the past, so frequently that at times he finds himself reciting an incremental formula that once had been mental prayer but which nov¢ has descended dangerously close to jargon; and the silence settles the soul before God and Christ so that the soul can begin to experience them here on earth .in a way analogous to the way it will experience them in heaven. Obviously the fact that St. La Salle is working here with analogy must be respected. But the other fact of the metaphysical linking between faith and vision must be respected, too. In short, St. La Salle's desire that his brothers recognize in their prayer a type of apprentice-ship for heaven rests on something more than a thin metaphor. It rests on the doctrine that between grace and glory exists a continuum. Concerning the advantages of the quiet attentiveness to God that the prayer fosters, St. La Salle writes: "It [the soul] is gradually absorbed with this tought of the privilege of the divine presence, and is still in touch with the subject of the passage taken from Holy S~ripture, which, being based on faith, enables the mind to realize more vividly the central truth, and helps us to adore it in God, and as the word of God with more fervour and earnestness.''13 Again: "These few words: 'My God, being constantly in Thy holy presence, how could I dare to say or do anything which should displease Thee?' these few words well impressed on the mind will produce a vivid attention to the truth expressed by them, which remaining deeply en-graved in our soul will easily recur again and again; and should this not happen, the serious attention given to the thought will leave behind it, in the soul, such a divine unction, such an attraction towards God, and such a horror of sin and for every-thing displeasing to God, that such a soul will easily have God in view, and always, hold sin in abomination. Thus it will gradually accustom itself to relish God and the things that bring it nearer to Him, and to relish them only in so far as they lead to Him, without looking at any attraction they may have of their own.''14 Such a prayer is a boon to busy religious. Prevented by their years of prayer from ~'eturning to the" delightful novelties they experienced in the novitiate, they are confronted by two laExplanation, p. 30. 14Explanation, pp. 46-47. 292 Sept~ember, 1960 LA SALLIAN PRAYER choices: to settle down to no prayer or to such desultory re-hashing of predigested convictions that almost no spiritual nourishment is possible; or to progress further upon the road of prayer by learning the liberating truth that they don't have to try to keep doing what they can't do. They don't have, to keep talking. They can select a passage from Scripture; on it they can formulate a short sentence of faith or adoration or of any other sentiment, and then they can keep quiet for as long as they remain attentive to at least the general drift of what they have proposed to themselves. Obviously, St. La Salle is not suggesting inactivity; what he is suggesting is an activity of attention to a pregnant silence inhabited by God and all His mysteries. And that is indescribably far away from a half-hour spent in a sleepy contemplation of nothing. The busy religious has to keep praying. In fact, because his work demands it, he should be praying more fervently and meaningfully than he ever did in the novitiate. But too often he is stagnating, not because his will is bad, but because he does not know what to do: St. La Salle, in this prayer, counsels him what to do: to keep progressing by means of a prayer that maintains its identifying character from day to day because of the active reception of God's imPulses and that provides for man's psychological hunger for variety by providing that each day the second part of prayer be dedicated to different mys-teries, virtues, or sayings of our Lord. Perhaps, God willing, the religious who gives himself generously to the method of simple, few reflections might find himself more quickly than he could expect at the prayer of simple attention. Stranger things have happened. Whoever outdid God in generosity ? 293 Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S. J. IN THIS article will be given a summary.of the documents which appeaied in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during April and May, 1960. Throughout the survey page references will be to the 1960 AAS (v. 59.). The Roman Synod In the issues of AAS under consideration in this sur~,ey, the ma~or portion of the pages was devoted to the Roman Synod which was held from January 24 to January 31, 1960. At the opening of the Synod on January 24, 1960 (pp. 180-90), the Holy Father gave an introductory allocution in which he emphasized the importance of ecumenical, pro-vincial, and diocesan convocations in the history of the Church. After listing the eigh~ general topics to be considered during the duration of the Roman Synod, he concluded his allocution with a warm plea for prayers for the success of the Synod. The Priesthood The Synod held three sessions of deliberation; and at each of the sessions the Vicar of Christ delivered an allocution, each of which was devoted to some aspect of the priesthood. At the first session, on January 25, 1960 (pp. 201-11), John XXIII's general topic was the sanctity that a priest should possess. He began by noting that the person of the priest is sacred; he is made such by the rite of ordination, since the primary and principal task entrusted to the priest demands that he offer him-self as an immaculate host for the carrying out. of the redemption of the World. Furthermore the dignity of the priest is increased by the power he possesses to forgive sins. But this priestly Sel~-offering and this exercise of mercy is more pleasing to God when the priest is innocent and free from all sin. An agreeable personality, knowledge, polished speech, urbanity, and the like are the sign of a priest's human dignity; but his supernatural dignity must come from the altar he serves. In turn the priest must be such that he may lead the faitl~ul to think of Christ. Accordingly a priest must be holy; as one doctor of the Church has put it, "Christ is the great tunic of priests," since the ministers of Christ should be c9mpletely penetrated and informed by the sanctity of Christ. The Pope continued by suggesting to his listeners that they meditate the words of the twelve-year old Christ: "Did you not know 294 ROMAN DOCUMENTS that I must be about my Father's business?" (Lk 2:49). He also recom-mended the reading and studying of Chapter 12 of the Gospel of St. Luke, for it could rightly be entitled "On the training of the disciples and the people." Then the Pontiff reflected on the Epistle to the Romans read in the Office of the season, telling the members of the Synod that the first part of the Epistle should lead them to a great trust in their vocation since they have been called by the justice of God to be con-formed to His Son. And the second part of the same Epistle teaches them to avoid all vice and to work for the edification of their neighbor. In the second session of the Synod, on January 26, 1960 (pp.221-30), His Holiness discussed the virtues of head, heart, and tongue that a priest must possess. First of all, he stated, a priest must have knowledge and correct judgment. Hence he must study both before and after ordination and even up to the last days of his life. Secondly, the heart of a priest must be aflame with love. This love is first of all a love for Christ that will make the exercise of priestly piety a pleasure. It is this love, the Holy Father said, that is the perennial source of a priest's courage and comfort in the difficulties of his life. Secondly, he must possess a love for the Church and for souls. This love for souls must extend to a.ll, but especially to sinners and to the poor of all kinds. Although, the Pope continued, a priest is calledto an angelic life, his heart remains flesh and is not freed from the temptations of the flesh. At this point he expressed his sorrow at the reports that he has received of the scandal given by some priests whose hearts have become worldly. He also repre-hended the mistaken notion of some that the Church will judge it opportune to desist from the law of that ecclesiastical celibacy which in the course of centuries has been and is the outstanding ornament of the priesthood. Finally, the priest must be able to control his tongue; and the Pope did not hesitate to say that the priest who knows when to be silent and when to speak is a man adorned with a perfect and absolute priestly-virtue. The words of St. James on the evils of the tongue, he remarked, could well be committed to memory and engraved on the walls of the houses of ecclesiastical men. On January 27, 1960, at the third synodal session (pp. 240-51) the Pope spoke about the pastoral duties of priests. A priest, he said, is supposed to carry out the work of redemption; hence he must imitate Christ who said of Himself: "I am the good shepherd." Priests in Rome, he continued, have a double responsibility: one of direct pastoral work for souls and one of indirect pastoral work in the administration of Church affairs in the Roman curia. But they must be careful, he told them, not to let themselves become involved in secular things. For the Roman clergy must face the sobering fact that in Rome at present there is only one priest engaged in direct pastoral work f~)r every 3,300 of the faithful. Hence he implored all the priests of Rome to devote themselves 295 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious fully to their direct or indirect pastoral work and to avoid all secular activities. Ecclesiastical Students and Religious Women On January 28, 1960 (pp. 262-70), the Holy Father delivered an allocution to the ecclesiastical students of Rome so that they might also share in the fruits of the Synod. After applying to them the story of Gideon as given in Judges,. The Vicar of Christ proposed three points for their consideration. The first was that they should be worthy of their vocation, and he assured them that the lofty dignity of the priesthood requires of them the most spotless kind of life. This life, he said, means that they must fill their minds with knowledge, maintain an innocence of life that is free from worldly pursuits, acquire prudence in their actions, and act towards others with kindliness. Secondly, he said, they must know and love Scripture; and in .this regard he quoted to them the phrase of Apocalypse 10:9, "Take the book and' devour it." In Scripture, he insisted, the students \viii find the will of God for the con-duct of a fruitful ministry as ~vell as the norms for a safer and better development of their spiritual life. Finally, he encouraged them in the practice of constant prayer, telling them that it must become the food of their souls and the protection of their spiritual lives. He concluded by telling them that the Psalms should prove a great source of prayer for them; and he urged them to a careful study and meditation of individual psalms. As part of the synodal activity, the Holy Father also addressed the religious women of Rome, speaking to them on January 29, 1960 (pp. 278-84). Basing his allocution on a verse at the end of Chapter 8 of Book III of the Imitation of Christ, he centered his allocution around four major points. The first point was that of detachment h'om creatures. The first characteristic, he said, of the religious life is the ready and ioyful farewell to the things of the world in order to consecrate oneself to God in perfect virginity of heart. This virginity, he told his listeners, opens the heartto the truest, greatest, and most universal love which exists on this earth; for a religious has chosen a celestial Spouse and her field of work is the entire Church. It is this love which expresses itself in the religious' tender and gentle exercise of the various works of mercy. Because virginity can not long maintain itself if a solid formation is lacking, the H~ly Father turned next to a consideration of the strength of character necessary in religious women. This is a question, he. said, of an. interior strength which fosters humility, generates mildness, and leads to obedience, that sure school of strong, souls. This same strength, he assured the religious, will secure the pede.ct equilibrium of intellect, will, and sensibility; and it will form that ideal of a strong woman which Scripture (Prov. 31:10) proposes as a rare ~treasure. A strong soul, he 296 Septdmber, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS added, Will never become a victim of sadness, for it is a sign of perfect virginity to serve God and souls without thinking of self. In the third part of the allocution, the Pontiff remarked that the ideal which he had traced can not be attained in a .few weeks; rather it must be asked for from God through insistent and faithful prayer. Hence, he continued, religious have a great need for constant prayer. This prayer, he said, springs from a serene conscience; prayer from such a conscience, he added, will be pure prayer: a listening to God, a speaking to God, a silence in God. As the Cure of Ars put it, a pure soul is present to God as a child to its mother. In the fourth part of the allocution, the Vicar of Christ told his listeners that the life he had outlined for them in the foregoing parts would, open up to them a truly celestial life. He concluded by urging his listeners to love the cross and by expressing th~ hope that the cross might become for them a source of strength, an inspiration for prayer, and the secret of peace. Conclusion of the Synod On January 31, 1960, there was held the solemn .conclusion of the Synod, at which the Holy Father delivered one last allocution (pp. 285- 96). In the allocution he assured the people of Rome that the Synod had been a great manifestation of spiritual vigor and that the chief fruits of the Synod should be an increased exercise of a strong faith which is eager to propagate itself, of an unconquered hope which spurns the prevalent error that man's only paradise is to be on earth, and of a generous charity which is ready to put down its life for others. He also spoke of his hopes for the coming ecumenical council, and concluded by recommending three forms of piety: devotion to the Name, the Heart, and the Blood of Christ. After this allocution Archbishop (now Cardinal) Traglia expressed to the Holy Father the gratitude of the Roman clergy and people for the Synod (pp. 307-8). In reply (pp. 308-9) the Pope gave thanks to God for the success of the Synod and expressed his appreciation of those who had worked for the successful conclusion of the Synod. The Synod was then solemnly closed. At the end of the account of the Synod, AAS noted that the statutes of the Synod would be published later and separately. The Consistory On March 28 and 31, 1960, were held three consistories for the elevation of nine new cardinals. In the first and secret consistory of March 28, 1960 (pp. 321-32), Cardinal Micara was made Camerario of the Sacred College, succeeding" Cardinal Tisserant in this office. After-wards John XXIII delivered an allocution to the assembled cardinals in which he nbted the continuing persecution of the Church in certain parts of the world. He also adverted to the successful completion of the 297 R. F. SMITH Review far Religious Roman Synod and stated that plans for the coming ecumenical council were proceeding satisfactorily. He also asserted that the nihe cardinals to be made' in this consistory would enlarge the Sacred Collegn geo-graphically as weI[ as numer~cal[y; such an enlargement, he said, would be an illustration of the text: "Going into the entire world, preach the gospel to every creature" (Mk 16:15). A~ter the alldcution the Pope then created eight cardinals of the order of priest and one of the order of deacon. Thereafter hierarchical appointments since the last consistory were read off; the Cardinals con-sidered the canonization causeof Blessed John de Ribera; and the Con-sistory was terminated with postulations for the pallium. The second and public consistory was held on March 31, 1960 (pp. 339.-34). At this consistory the Pope placed the red hat on the new cardinals and asked the opinion of the Cardinals on the canonization of Blessed John de Ribera. On the same day the third and secret con-sistory was held (pp. 334-35). At this consistory the most recent h~er-arcbJcal appointments were announced and the new cardinals were as-signed their churches in Rome. Liturgical Matters On March 21, 1960 (pp. 355-56), the Holy Office responded to the question as to whether recent documents of Eucharistic discipline (Christus Dominus of January 6, 1953; the Monltum of Marcia 22, 1955; and Sacram Communionem of March 19, 1957) had abrogated the pro-vision of canon 867, paragraph 4, where if is stated that the distribution of Holy Communion outside of the hours when Mass can be. said is forbidden, unless, a reasonable cause exists. In reply the Holy Office said that the new legislation had not abrogated the paragr~iph in question, but that, given the mitigations in the Eucharistic fast, reasonable causes would occur with greater difficulty. However, since such causes can not be excluded and since evening Masses are not always and everywhere po.ssible, the document gives local ordinaries the power to permit the afternoon distribution of Communion at some function other than Mass. Such a permission can be granted .to both parochial and non-parochial churches as well as to the oratories in hospitals, prisons, and colleges. .On March 9, 1960 (p." 360), a decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites stated that the Leonine prayers usually said after low Masses may be omitted in the following cases: (1) a~ter a nuptial Mass and after a Mass said on the occasion of first Communion, a general Com-munion, a confirmation, ordination, or religious profession; .(2) when another function or pious exercise immediately follows the Mass; (3) when a homily is had during the Mass; (4) when on Sundays and feast-days a dialogue Mass is had. The decree also gives local ordinaries the power to permit the recitation of the Leonine prayers in the vernacular according to a text to be approved by themselves. 298 September', 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS The same Congregation also announced the inclusion of a new prayer in the prayers of thanksgiving a/ter Mass of the Roman Missal. The text of the prayer, its place in the Missal, and the indulgences attached to its recital are given on pages 257-58 of this issue of the REWEW. Miscellaneous Matters On March 25, 1960 (pp. 344-49), the Holy Father addressed the superiors general of religious institutes of men and women. The subject of his talk was that of the religious difficulties of Latin America. He called for a coordination of all the energies of the Church for the sake of .greater efllcacy in. meeting the challenge of Latin .America. He asked that as many persons as possible be sent to Latin America, saying that the future of the. Church in Latin America is rich in promise, but the harvest needs priests, religious men and women, and an ardent laity. On April 10, 1960 (pp. 339-43), the Holy Father delivered a homily based on the liturgy of Palm Sunday. The day, he said, recalls the certain and peaceful triumph of Christ in innocent and good souls; how-ever, it also recalls that Christ's. procession of palms was the beginning of His journey to crucifixion. Accordingly he expressed the profound sorrow that. fills his heart at the continued and terrible persecution of the Church of Silence. On March 22, 1960 (pp. 343-44), the Pontiff addressed the Inter-national Committee of the Neutrality of Medicine, lauding their efforts to limit the terrible effects of armed conflict. On April 12, 1960 (pp. 352-53), he spoke to the memberi of the Committee of Public Health of the Western European Union, remarking on the great importance of the topics .they were currently studying. On April 2, 1960 (pp. 349-50), John XXIII gave an allocution to members of the International Association of the Sport Press. He noted the importance of sport in the world today and remarked that the widespread practice of sport on Sundays need not conflict with the religious duties of thht day; in. fact, he remarked, it is conformed to .the divine law that after man has given God what is His, he should seek a legitimate recreation for his body and soul. He advised his listeners to give sport its exact place in the scale of human values as a useful instrument in the complete and harmonious, develop-ment of the personality. But its importance should 'not be exaggerated nor should attention be placed only on physical values. Under the date of February 9, 1960 (pp. 353-54), the Vicar of Christ sent a written message to the hierarchy of the United States on the annual Laetare Sunday collection for charity. By the apostolic letter, Diuturno usu, of February 2,' 1960 (p. 338),. Pope John created an apostolic internuntiature in Turkey. On April 11, 1960 (p. 351), he de-livered an allocution welcoming the first ambassador of Turkey to the Holy S~e. 299 Views, News, Previews T HE UNION of Women Major Superiors of France has published a volume listing as many as possible of the institutes of religious women that exist in France. The volume is entitled Annuaire des Instituts de Religieuses en France (Handbook of the Institutes of Re-ligious Wora~n in France) and was published at Paris in 1959 by the Centre de Documentation Sacerdotale. The institutes are given in alpha-betical order; for ea6h institute the following Lrfformation is provided: purpose of the institute, its type of spirituality, its canonical status, its organ!zation and government, its plan of formation, its principal activities, a select bibliography of the institute; and a list of addresses of the institute's principal houses. At the end are given three long appendices. The first of these gives an alphabetical list of associations and pious unions for women in France and for each provides much the same in-formation as for religious institutes. The second appendix lists all the institutes aecord!ng to their canonical status of religious order, pontifical congregation, diocesan congregation, pontifical secular institute, diocesan secular institute, or association and pious union. The final appendix lists all the institutes and associations in terms of their principal work. The Annuaire described above was modeled on a similar work, Dictionnaire des Institutes de ReIigieux en Franc~ (Dictionary of the Institutes of Religious. Men in France); the Dictionary, which was pub-lished in 1957, lists the religious institutes of men alphabetically and gives the same information for each as the Handbook does for women's institutes. Both the Handbook and the Dictionary may be purchased from the following address: Centre de Documentation Sacerdotale 19, rue de Varenne Paris 7, France At the beginning of 1960 a new ascetical quarterly began publica-tion. Entitled Revista Agustiniana de Espiritualidad, it intends to provide its readers with an insight into the spirit and religious dimensions of St. Augustine. The magazine costs $1.80 a year and may be ordered from: Revista' Agustinian.a de Espiritualidad Avenida de la Estaci6n, 11 Calahorra (Lggrofio) Spain Another ascetical magazine will begin publication in January, 1961. Its title is to be The Way and it will be published by English Jesuits. 300 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS The aim of The Way will be to help priests, religious, and lay folk in English-speaking countries to a better understanding of the interior life in the modem world and against the background of Scripture and the Liturgy. The new quarterly will cost $5.00 a year; all subscriptions must be sent direct to the following address: The Way 31 Farm Street London, W 1 England Questions and Answers The following questions and answers are a continuation of the series on local houses and local superiors which was begun in the March, 1960, issue of the REWEW. 36. Our religious college is, erecting a new building, which will not be completed for a year and a half. Will the Holy See grant a dispensation for the.local superior to have a third immediate three-year term? This local superior planned the building and is the only one who is completely conversant with all the details of this work. Yes. For serious reasons, for example, the completion of the erection of a building, the Holy See will grant a dispensation and permit a religious to govern the same house for more than six successive years. In extra-ordinary circumstances, such as war, when local superiors cannot be changed, the law ceases to oblige; and a local ~uperior may validly and licitly govern the same house for more than. two full three-year terms. 37. Our congregation of sisters has one college. The local superior is also president of the college. It is evidently not easy to find a com-petent religious for this post every six years. What is your solution of this evident and, I believe, common problem of religious institutes? Canon 505 imposes a temporary tenure of office on the superior of the religious community as such, that is, under the aspect of the one who governs the community in its religious life. That this is the sense of the law is. evident from the fact that the canon is universal and thus includes houses also of contemplative congregat?ions. The same sense is dear from the reply of the Code Commission, June 3, 1918, which states that the limitations of canon 505 apply to religious at the head of works of the institute "having other religious under their authority also as regards religious discipline" (Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, I, 275). The canon therefore is in no way opposed to permanence in the one who is ~t the head of the external work~ of the house, for example, principles, deans, presidents of colleges and universities, administrators of hospitals, and so forth. Perman6nce is at 301 ~UESTION~ AND ANSWERS Review ]or Religious least very often desirable in these officials, for example, because of the difficulty and complexity of the office, the wonderment-caused to extems by the apparently ~ormalistic change of competent officials, the lack of other qualified religious, and especially because the amount and nature of the work of such officials often make it simply impossible for them to give sufficient attention, time, and energy to the government of th~ reli-gious community. It is also true in some cases that even an outstanding official of this type is not a good religious superior. Religious institutes should therefore study more carefully the separation of such offices from that of local superior, especially in the cases of presidents of dolleges and universities and administrators of hospitals. This difficulty is habitual, not occasional. Therefore, it is not solved by the opinion of some authors who recommend a petition for a dispensation in such cases. Furthermore, this would maintain the same .superior over the religious life of the community beyond the time permitted by canon 505; and experience proves that this is at least ordinarily not a good thing. Cf. REWEW FOa KELmIOUS, 10 (1951), 197. 38. Is the term of a local superior computed in the same way as tl~e canonical year of noviceship, thus ending on the day after the an-niversary day (January 10, 1960 - January 11, 1963); or does it end on the anniversary day, as in the case of temporary profession (January i0, 1960 - January 10, 1963)? The duration of a term of office is computed in the same way as tem-porary profession and thus according to the norm of canon 34, § 3, 5°, that is, a three-year term begun on January 10, 1960, expires on January 10, 1963. If the superior has not been reappointed nor his successor ap-pointed, the term expires at midnight of January 10-11, 1963. The term may also be computed from chapter to chapter, even if the subsequent chapter is not held on the same day, when the local superiors are elected in a general or provincial chapter, which is practically never done in lay congregations, or are appointed immediately after such a chapter, as is done in a very small number of such congregations. A few constitutions enac( that a superiorship expiring within the school year is automatically prolonged until the end of the school term. Some institutes automatically prolong the term of local superiors expiring after the convocation of the general chapter until after the close of this or the provincial chapter. The duration of other offices is also computed in the same way. For example, if a superior general is elected for a six-year term on August 1. 1960, the next election is to take place at any hour on August 1, 1966. If the election does not take place on the latter date, his term of office expires at midnight of August 1-2, 1966. Cf. Van Hove: III De Consuetu-dine, De Supputatione Temporis, n. 314; Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome Iuris Canonici, I, n. 149; Larraona, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 7 (1926), 380; Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 137. 302 September, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Unless the constitutions, customs, or usage states otherwise, the term of office begins more probably on the date of the document of appoint-ment rather than on the day when the religious actually assumes the office. The constitutions of lay congregations usually enact that the term begins and that of the predecessor ends on the day the religious assumes office or, what is the same thing, on which the letter of his appointment is read to the community he is to govern. Only a very small number of constitu-tions declare that the term begins to run from the date of the letter of appointment. 39. A religious was appointed local superior. He was engaged in summer work that delayed his assumption of the office for three weeks beyond the expiration of the term of the former local superior. Who was the superior of the community during these three weeks? The constitutions usually sta~e that a superior, on the expiration of his term, continues to govern the community until his own reappointment or the appointment of his successor is effective. This may also be e~tablished by the custom or usage of the institute. Otherwise, and even if this power is not explicitly granted in the constitutions, the competent higher superior, for a proportionate reason, may extend the term for a brief period until the reappointment or appointment is effective. In these cases, the former local superior governs Under the title of vicar. If neither of these methods of prolongation is verified, the government of the community passes to the local assistant. This is the better opinion, because the term of the former superior has expired and was not prolonged. However, Creusen holds that the local superior always continues to govern the community in such a case (Religious Men and Women in Church Law, n. 67). This opinion may be followed, because it is in conformity with the practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions. The prolongation of the term of the former superior or the tenure of the local assistant as vicar should not be prolonged be-yond six monks after the vacancy of the office, that is, after the expiration of the term. This is the prescription of canon 155 for offices in the strict sense, which from analogy should be applied also to offices in lay institutes. 40. During my tenure of office, it has happened on more than one occasion that a local superior got sick, for example, he was hospitalized for one to three months. In such cases, do I, the. immediate higher superior, have the power to name an acting local superior? The constitutions of lay institutes practically always enact that the assistanti under the title of vicar, is to assume the office of ~uperior, whether general, provincial, or local, when the offices becomes vacant or the superior, because of sickness, absence, or other reasons, is unable to exercise the office. Since these constitutions determine the substitute, higher superiors may not ordinarily appoint another religious as vicar or acting superior in such circumstances. They may do this for an extraordinary reason, for example, when the assistant does not possess the health or 303 ~UESTION~ AND ANSWERS Review ]or Religious capability to govern. They may also do it if such a power is expressly given them in the constitutions. Some constitution.s of lay congregations explicitly state that the competent higher superior may always appoint a religious of his own choice at least as local vicar or local acting superior. They may ob~,iousIy do this also when the constitutions do not specify that the assistant is to assume the government in such circumstances. Cf. Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 146:49. 41. What is the duration of the term and the permissible reappoint-meitt of the religious in charge of a filial house? Canon law has no enactment on the term of office or immediate re-appointment of the religious in charge of a filial house. Therefore, it apper-tains to the constitutions to enact whether he is appointed for a determined term, which may be less or more than three years, for no determined term, and to what extent he may be immediately reappointed or for how long he may continuously govern the same filial house. The constitUtions of lay institutes rarely contain any legislation on this point, and the whole. matter is therefore determined by custom, usage, or the will of the higher superior. Several authors follow Vermersch in stating it to be the mind of the Holy See that the same religious should not have this office in the same filial house for more than three successive three-year terms or more than nine consecutive years. This is at least a solid practical norm, but it has by no means been included in all constitutions approved by the Holy See that mentioh filial houses. Vermeersch, Periodica, 17 (1928), 90*. 42. Because of his 'poor health, the novice master must be removed. May we appoint to this post a religious who is now a local superior and who has not completed his present term of office? Yes. It is a principle of law that a superior or official who has been appointed for a determined period of time may not be removed or trans-ferred before the expiration of that period unless for a just and serious reason (el. c. 560). Such reasons are poor health, the need of the religious in another important post, his'serious incompetency, bad example, and excessive severity or weakness. The post of a novice master is evidently important and justifies the removal of a local superior before the expira-tion of his "term: ' .43. Do appointed superiors and officials have the right of resigning their office? From the law of their constitutions, custom, or usage, the more com-mon practice in lay institutes is that an appointed superior or official, for example, a provincial or local superior, may not resign his office but has only the common right of representation, that is, of giving reasons for being relieved of his office. Some constitutions expressly grant provincial and local superiors the right of resigning. If resignation is neither granted nor excluded in the law or usage of the institute,, a superior has the right of resignation (c. 184). It is forbidden to make or accept a resignation with- 304 September, 1960 BOOK REVIEWS out a iust and proportionate reason (cc. 184; 189, § 1). Since the com-petent higher superior may reject as insufficient the reasons given for a resignation, a resignation will in fact not differ from the right of represen-tation described above. Many constitutions of Dominican sisters enact that a local superior who is habitually prevented from fulfilling the common exercises because of ill health is to resign her office, if there is no hope of recovery within six months. If she does not resign, she is to be removed from ofllce. The authority competent for the transfer, removal, or accept-ance of the resignation of a local superior is ordinarily the superior general with the consent of his council, after a request by the provincial with the same vote of his council. Some constitutions give this right to the latter with the consent of his Council, but the act must be confirmed by the superior general with the same vote of his council. 44. Our constitutions state merely that the local superior has the authority to govern his house. What exactly is the authority of a local superior? A local superior is not a mere delegate of a higher superior and possessed only of the authority that the latter delegates to him. The reli-gious at the head of a filial house is a mere delegate (cf. Question 6). In virtue of canons 501, § 1, and 502, the superior of a canonically erected house possesses ordinary authority, that is, authority conferred by canon law and the constitutions. He therefore has full authority to govern his house except for matters reserved to higher authorities (Holy See,' local ordinaries, general chapter, higher superiors), that demand any type of recourse to these (dispensation, confirmationl consent, advice), or that require the consent or advice of his council. The local superior should maintain close contact with higher superiors, especially his immediate higher superior, and consult them on all matters that are unusually serious, difficult, or important. He should also consult his council on more important matters, even when the code or the constitutions do not prescribe con-sultation on the individual matter. Book Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to the Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE CHURCH IN THE THEOLOGY OF ST. PAUL. By Lucien Cerfaux. Translated by Geoffrey Webb and Adrian Walker. New York: Herder and Herder, 1959. Pp. 419. $6.50. Cerfaux says in his introduction: "The object of'the present study is the notion of the Church in Paul's theology, rather than its historical realization in his time. Thus I shall not give a great deal of space to discussing questions connected with the Church's organization, the aposto- 305 BOOK REVIEWS Review ]or Religious late, the sacraments, etc. All I propose to offer is an essay in Pauline theology, aiming at the underlying synthesis of the epistles. Paul's theology grew out of Judaism and primitive Christianity." Cerfaux's point that Paul's theology developed is so important that it may be considered cardinal. In view of this, the three books into which this volume is divided are based upon three different sources. Book I considers how Paul integrated into his theology many Old .Testament expressions origin-ally applied to the nation of Israel and how he applied these to the community of Christians. These expressions determined the direction of primitive ecclesiology, particularly St. Paul's. Book II, using "Christian Experience" as found in the major epistles (Galatians, 1 and 2 C~r-inthians, Romans) as its source, studies Paul's theology of the Church. as developed by the time of their completion. Book III studies Paul's theology as it reached its final stage of development, the "Idealized Church" as found in the captivity epistles .(Philippians, Ephesians, Colos-sian~, Philemon) with emphasis on Ephesians and Colossians. In his study of the origin anal development of Pauline expressions, Cerfaux shows that "God's people," a Jewish idea, is basic to Paul's theology of the Church. The community of Christians are "God's new people." This community is the ekklesia (church), a wsrd whose meaning also evolved. It did not have th~ same meaning for Paul in the major epistles as it had in the captivity epistles. At first he used it for local churches. "In the first letter to the Corinthians, it was tending to become disconnected from the local churches." Only in the captivity epistles, and especially in' the "mystery" texts, can we say that Paul sometimes clearly means the universal Church when he writes ekklesia. Only in these epistles does he develop the idea that the Church is not only terrestrial, but also a "celestial thing," the heavenly bride of Christ. Nor do we find the texts for the doctrine that the Church is the mystical body of Christ until the captivity epistles~ A prominent place is ~iven to the discussion of the phrase "body of Christ," which passed through a transition from the physical sense of the word to a collective sense. In the major epistles "the. body of Christ" refers to the earthly body of Christ with which Christ suffered and died for us, now present in the Eucharist as a bond of unity for . Christianity. In the captivity epistles "the body of Christ" refers first to the risen body of Christ as it is in heaven, the source of sanctifi-cation for all Christians, and, second, to the "body" of Christians who compose the Church, which is "an extension of Christ." The relation of the physical body of Christ to the Church, the "body" 'of Christ, is that of mystical identity. Other important themes discussed are: Christ as "head of the Church," an expression which Paul used to describe Christ's influence on Christians; the "mystery of Christ," which has a. two-fold interest: cosmic, Christ's domination over the universe, and oecumenical, the unity of Jewish and gentile Christians in Christ. This is not a work of popularization, but will be of special interest to those making scientific studies of the Church. Such scholars will find the many references to Sacred Scripture and direct quotations from the Greek text useful. Other aids to the scholar ar~ the bibliography, 3O6 September, 1960 BOOK REVIEWS index of all biblical references, author and subject indices. Short sum-maries and particularly the excelleht eight-page general synopsis found at the end of the book are also helpful. It may be that some readers will be disappointed to find no use made of the pastoral epistles in understanding Paul's developing syn-thesis concerning the Church. Since Christian experience is the touch-stone throughout Cerfaux's treatment, the experience manifested in the pastorals would seem necessary for a complete synthesis. Sections where the. author is explaining rather than proving often supply insights that ~vill delight any Christian, for example where the author gives Paul's thoughts on the unity of Christians through the Eucharist. These will come as a welcome relief to the ordinary reader, for whom the rather complex arguments may be difficult to grasp. However, even fbr one who is not studying theology on the professional level, the book has much to offer. Such a reader can deepen his spiritual life by learning more about the Church and the Pauline fdundations for saying that the Church is the mystical body of Christ. I~CZ~aD J. MmDENDOI~', S.J. PROCEEDINGS OF .THE 1958 SISTERS INSTITUTE OF SPIRITUAL-ITY. Edited by Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1959. Pp. 315. $4.00. Under the sub-title of "The Role of Authority in the Adaptation of the Religious Community for the Apostolate," seven lecturers (besides two members of the hierarchy) examine as many aspects of the current, pressing problems that face our American sisterhoods in their efforts to meet the rising demands for their services in the .Church's apostolate, while¯ maintaining a steady balance between the obligations of personal sanctity and the duties of Christian charity. Bishop Shehan of Bridgeport s~t the tone for the institute by pointing up the grave crisis' in Latin America where, he felt, religious women from the States are offered¯the chance to duplicate their achievement in this count~:y. In his closing address, Bishop Marling, C.PP.S., of Jefferson City emphasized the need that religious have to keep their eyes fixed on their founder if they would avoid extremes on the side of immutability or adaptability, as they undertake the delicate task of adjusting themselves to the pressures of the modern world. Between these two addresses were three principal studies of the problem, sociologically by Joseph H. Fichter, S.J., ascetically by Lou

Issue 2.2 of the Review for Religious, 1943. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious MARCH 15, 1943 "Prudent Use Of Confession Privilecjes ¯ . . The Editors T,heParticular Examen . Timothy Brosnahan '-Hi~ldeh Saint of NaZareth ,. Matthew Germlng Mani~esta÷ion of Conscience . Adam C. Ellis Divine Priestly Vocation . James T. Meehan Recommended Spiritual Books ¯ ¯ . Adgustine Klaas ; Communications Book Reviews Oues+ions Answered Decision~ of the HOI~ See VOLUME II NUMBER 2 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME II MARCH, 1.5, 1943 NUMBER CONTENTS THE PRUDENT USE OF CONFESSION PRIVILEGES--The Editors74 SOME NOTES ON THE PARTICULAR EXAMEN-- Timothy Brosnahan, $.J . , 85 BOOKS RECEIVED . : . 90 HIDDEN SAINT OF NAZARETH~Matthew ~3erming. S~J .91 SUPERIORS AND MANIFESTATION OF CONSCIENCE-- Adam C. Ellis, SJ . 101 THE DIVINE PRIESTLY VOCATION--2ames T. Meehan, $.J. 109 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS--Augustine Klaas. S.~J. 117 COMMUNICATIONS (On Spiritual Direction) .123 BOOK REVIEWS (Edited by Clement DeMuth, $.J.)-- Soul Clinic; Chapters in Religion: A Short Breviary for Religious and the Laity: The Our Father: The Spiritual Direction of Sisters; A Book of Simple Words: The Pater Noster of Saint Teresa; Ten Blessed Years: Happy Hours with Christ: Hope of Life; These Two Hands;-The Way of the Blessed Christ: The March to Liberation; Maryknoll Mis-sion Letters; Mary of the Magnificat; Praying with. the Povetello; The. Commonwealth ~ of Nations and the Papacy . 130-139 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE . ~ . 140 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-~ 8. Questions in Confessional after Absolution . 141 9. Manifesting Community Difficulties to Confessor . 141 10. Differefice between Permission and Dispensation . 142 11. Power of Blessing Beads with Crosier Indulgence . 143 12. Studi.es during Canonical Year . : . . . 143 13. Superior's Obligation to Mail Letters .143 14. Use of Convent Chapel for Portiuncula Indulgence . 144 15. Genuflecting when Blessed Sacrament is Exposed . 144 16. Genuflecting before Holy Communion .144 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1.945. Vol. II. No. 2. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May. 3uly, September, and November, at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter ,January 15, 19420 at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.2., G. Augustine Ellard, SJ., Gerald Kelly, S.'j. Copyright, 1943. by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this ~eview and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. The Prudent Use ' ot: Con[ession Privileges The Editors WHtiEoNn, wwee cinointifainteedd tohuer dOiswcun srseimona rokfs s tpoi rdiitrueaclt idoinre bcy-the ordinary confessor. As a matter of fact, the Code of Canon Law grants to .religious many privileges of confessing, under certain circumstances, to other _priests. Some of our readers have suggested that, before concluding the discussion on spiritual direction, we should explain the prudent use of these privileges according to the mind of the Church. The suggestion appears very practical. Since the pub-lication of the Code, much has been written in explanation of the meaning and extent of these privileges; but compara-tively little has been said about their prudent use. For the sake of clarity, we shall firgt consider the confessors of Sis-ters, then apply our remarks, with the needed qualifica-~ tions, to the confessors of religious men. ¯The Ordinary Confessor The. conc.ept of the. ordinary confessor of Sisters. according to the mind of the Church, is a basic one to this entire subject. He. is not to be a mere confessor, This expression might sound shocking, if taken out of its con-text. Penance is a Sacrament; and as a Sacrament it is pro-ductive of graces which in themselves are more fruitful for the human soul than is spiritual counsel. And the greatest' work that a priest does in the confessional is to give abso-lution. There should be no mistake about that point; the sacramental value of absolution should never be placed be- 74 USE OF CONFESSION PRIVILEGES low spiritual advice, ~nd the first purpose of every penitent should be to perfect his disposition for the fruitful r~ceptic;n of the Sacrament. BUt religious are not ordinary penitents. They belong to-the spiritual elite of the Church. They are supposed to strive after perfection; and, they are entitled to the means conducive to p~erfection. One,of these means is the oppor-tunity of having expert spiritual guidance. True, to some extent this guidance is embodied in their rule, for .the rule contains the plan of a perfect life. Also, guidance is fre-quently available through their superiors. Despite these helps; however, all will experience, at least at times, the need of counsel that only a priest can give. It is the mind of the Church that in each community of Sisters, this priestly counsel should be given normally by the ordinary confessor. In making this legislation, the Church intends to provide the Sisters with direction that is capable, consistent, and uniform. It should be capable, because of their special position in the Church.; it should be consistent, because this is generally needed for progress; and it should be at least relatively uniform because of their uni-form manner of life, and because in their communities they live in very ~lose contact, and great differencesof direction could make for disagreeable situations.° Such is the ideal. It is not always realized in practice. Eccldsiastical superiors have no special charism that pre-vents them from making mistakes in their appointments: and at times they must appoint ordinary confessors who they. realize do not measure up. perfectly to the canonical standards. Like the rest of us, they cannot give what they do not hard. In these situatioris the Sisters must be both fair-minded and patient. If possible, they can avail them-selves of the other privileges given by canon la~; when this i~ impossible, they have every r~ason to trust in God. 75 THE EDITORS Extraord[nar'g and Retreat Confessors The Church also prescribes that Sisters have an extra-o~ dinary confessor, and a practically universal custom pro-vides yet anoth'~ confessor at the time of retreat.-. It may be well to consider just what use the Sisters are expected to make ofthese opportunities. Regarding the extraordinary confesssor, it id .not expected that everyone wilt wish his. advice, nor should be expected that he will volunteer direction to all. He given to all to safeguard the opportunity of .the few who may need his help. In a community .in which all find the ordinary confessor satisfactory, the work of the extraor-dinary could well be limited to hearing the 'confessions anal. giving absolution. The pru. dent use of the opportunity of consulting the retreat confessor is a subject as difficult as it is delicate. Let us begin by stating that some Sisters need this opportunity.° very much. They may have been in a small community all ye~ir, without an ordinary or extraordinary confessor in whom they had confidence and with relatively01ittle oppor-tunity of p~:ofiting by the various privilegCs accorded by canon law. Perhaps many problems have a~cumulated: perhaps, too, if they do not get help during the retreat in planning for the future, then they will never get.tit. Sisters belonging to this class should feel perfectly free to discuss .-their problems and plans with the retreat confessor; and he, on his part, should be quite willing to give all the time and help he can. The.case is different with the Sisters who have a good ordinary confessor during the year. All other things being equal, his-guidance should be sought in preference to that of the retreat confessor. The Siiters may say, of course, that at time of retreat they make a "yearly review"; but does this review necessarily bring ~up new problems? Or 7'6 USE OF CONFESSION PRIVILEGES again, they may say that during retreat the~ must plan f6r the future, and that in this planning they will need some guidance. This is true, but it can be overdone. They might discuss the general notion of this plan with their ordinary ¯ confessor before ~hey leave¯ for retreat. Unless the retreat is marked by very special inspira, tions, one can usual!y predict ahead of time along what line one is going to need a reno-vation Of spirit. Furthermore, when the plan is made, if one ¯wishes approbation for it, is it not better to.get th~ approbation from the priest who knows one and is to guide one in the keeping of it rather than from a priest one may never see again? Special Confessor or Director The foregoing are the confessional opportunities regu-larly provided for all. Many will find them sufficient for their needs and.ideals. Yet, there will always be a few who will need the habitual help of another priest, and many "who will rightly desire the opportunity of occasionally going tO another. The Church has provided for both kinds of exceptions to the general rule; and we can consider now the right use of these exceptional privileges. Roughly speaking, those Sisters who wish the habitual help of another confessor may be divided into two classes ¯ that can be exemplified as follows. Sister A does not wish to go to the ordinary confessor at all; she wants a substitute confessor for herself. Sister B is willing to confess to the. ordin~iry confessor at the .customary times; but she also wishes to go to confession periodically (say every week or ¯ every month) to another pr~iest. To the ordinary, Sister B. merely makes her confession; with the second priest, she discusses her spiritual life more in detail._ In other words, Sister B wants an extra confessor, who is to serve mainly as her spiritual adviser. Cases like these, though exceptio, ns to the general rule, 77 THE EDITORS are not to be branded as "singularities."" Considering the wid~ differences: of human temperament and hi, man needs, it is not surprising that even an excellent ordinary confessor will not satisfy everybody. The Code (in canon 520 § 2). takes cognizance of these diversities, by instructing the local Ordinary to be gracious in granting the request of such Sis-ters when they ask for a special confessor or director. In making this wise provision, the Church is not cater- ~n.g to the mere whim or caprice of the Sisters. The latter are to have a serious supernatoral reason for making their request. "In general, these reasons may be summed up as follo.ws: the Sister finds it extraordinarily difficult to mani-fest her consciende sincerely to the ordina~ry confessor, or she honestly judges that it would be to the greater good of her soul to have another confessor or director. The law pre-sumes that the Sisters give the ordinary confessor a fair trial before requesting another confessor or director. The canon law does not authorize the Sister to appoint her own~ special confessor or diiector. The appointment ¯ should come from the local Ordinary, upon her request. The request itself might take one of these two forms. The Sister might merely ask for the special confessor or director and leave the choice to the local Ordinary; or she might havea definite priest in mind and ask for him. In the sec-ondcase she is not fJ~ee from personal responsibility in making the choice. Naturally, the Ordinary Would not approve the choice if he knew the man to be incapable of fulfilling the office, but on the other hand, he is not alw.ays able to discern the hidden motives that might lie behind such a request. The Sister herself must judge that the choice is really for her spiritual good. Extra-confessional Director What of the Sister who makes her confession to the 78 USE OF CONFESSION PRIVILEGES ordinary confessor, but who wishes periodically to discuss the affairs of her soul with another priest, outside the con-fessional? Note that this case is different from that of Si~ter B, previously outlined: Sister B wanted direction in con-fession; in the case we are now considering the, direction is entirely separated from the confdssional. A few eminent canonists think that, since the director in this case is not to serve as confessor to the Sister, the .case need not, strictly speaking, be referred to the local Ordinary. We do not share this opinion. We think that, since this. second priest is really to serve as the Sister's spiritual direc-tor, he should be appointed by the Ordinary. ¯ However, even those who, in a spec.ulative way, hold the more lenient view on this one point, admit that the case involves serious . difficulties and demands special safeguards. It is a generally recognized ascetical rule ~that the con-fessional is the proper place for the spiritual guidance .of women, This rule is not absolute. It admits" of excep-tions; and no doubt there a're cases in which a Sister can receive more apt guidance outside the confessional. But these exceptions are rare, and the dangers involved should be recognized. If the Church demands certain quaIities of virtue, prudence, and maturity of the ordinary confessor, with much greater reason would she demand them of an extra-confessional director. If there is danger of wasting time in the confessional, there is much greater, danger of doing so outside. If an inordinate personal attachment might arise even from the confession.al, there is much more danger of this when the safeguards of the confessional are abolished. We wish to be correctly understood in this matter. It is wrong to be constantly suspecting people; and much-harm has come to many earnest souls through rash suspicions and rumors. But it is foolish, and may be quite wrong, for Sis- THE EDITORS ters to cherish the notion that, simply because they wish to discuss their spiritual life, these meetings never involve danger. In this matter, a bit of self-suspicion at the begin-ning can save a great deal of self-reproach at the end. V~rl~atever may be said tl~eoretically about the need of the local Ordinary's.permission for this extra-confessional director, it is certain that no Sister could adopt the practice of meeting her self-chosen, extraZcor~fessional director with-out at least the permission of her owri superior. The supe-rior should weigh this question very carefully. In practice, she could seldom give a confident judgment without con-sulting the local Ordinary, especially when the parties fare young and the visits frequent. Occasional Cont:essors Ttie number of Sisters who desire a special confessor or direc~0r is comparatively small; the number of those who might want the opportunity of occasionally consulting another priest besides the ordinary confessor is rather large. To guarantee the latter as much liberty of conscience as pos- /sible, the canon law provides for supplementary and occa-sional confessors. The supplementary confessors are appointed by the local Ordinary, assigned to definite houses or groups of houses, and given the special jurisdiction required for . hea'ring the confessions of religious women. The religious are free to summon any one of these or the extraordinary confessor. Not mhch need be said concerning the prudent ¯ use of this privilege. Since the confessors are designated by. the Bishop himsdlf, it may be presumed that they will be capable men. The principal danger of abuse would come from the Sister herself, were she to call for them needlessly, or at a needlessly inopportune time, or pi~rhaps from an unreasonably long distance. 80 USE OF CONFESSION PRIVILEGES In a large city, the privilege offhd supplementary con-fessors may have much practical value; but in general rfiost Sisters will'find the very wide concession of canon 522 more useful. ¯ Canon 522 allows Sisters to take advantag~ of the opportunity of confessing to any priest approved in the diocese for the confessions of.wgmen. The priest need not have the special approbation necessary for the confessors Of Sisters. The canon does not give permission to leave the house or to set aside the order of the house or the prescrip-tions of rule; but it does allow the Sisters to take advaiatage of any legitimate opportunity of confessing when they are outside the house, as well as to a priest who happens to be visiting the convent, or even of calling a priest to the con.- vent. In all cases, .the confessionmust be made in a place which conforms with the legislat!on of the Church for hearing the confessions of women. One phrase in canon 522 calls for particular attention hi, re. This privilegeis accorded to the Sister for her "peace of conscience." This phrase has b~en discussed and redis-cussed by canonists. Authorities now commonly agree that any confession seriouslymade satisfies this demand, in so far as the law is concerned. But the spirit behind the law must be kept in mind when we ,are considering the prudent use of this pri;cilege. Evidently, in framing this law, the Church did not wish to do away with all the prescriptions and counsels that she had laid down for the proper direction of Sisters. Certainly she ¯ does not wish by this one canon to set aside the maxims of Sound Catholic asceticism; and ~most certainly she does not wish to justify a departure from the more basic and neces-sary principles of moral theology. From both the canonical and ascetical points of view it is a mistake for a Sister'to go to another confessor for advice 81 THE EDITORS or to confess things that riaturally call for advice, if her ordinary confessor would prove equally satisfactory. The difficulty proposed or the matter confessed may be the very thin.g that the ordinary .confessor should know in order to give her progressive and helpful direction. Of course, there are occasions when the ordinary is not available. If, on these occasions, the Sister consults another confessor, she will be acting according to a sound ascetical practice if she refers the matter later to her ordinary confessor. The mistakes made in the use of this privilege can vio-late not merely ascetical principles, but also certain basic principles of m~ral theology. Perhaps We ~an illustrate by an example. Any priest knows that young people who are geowing addicted to certain bad habits are .prone to "shop arounff'maS.-the saying goes--for an "easy" confessor. In doing this they make two serious mistakes. They go from one confessor to another with the result that none of these transitory confessors can give them real help; and, when at last they settle on .the "easy" one, they choose him precisely because he does not have the qualities that a helpful con-fessor should have. Writing in the Comrnentarium Pro Religiosis for June- July, 1926, Father van Acken pointed out that some reli-gious who experience difficulties with regard to ~he ~eligious life in general or in regard to one of the vows in particular, are apt to make this same childish mistake. They need sympathetic direction, it is true, but also expert and firm direction. Because they fear this, they avail themselves of the privilege of canon 522 to "shop around" for a confes~ sot who will ask no questions or make no firm demands of them,. This is the gravest of all the abuses that can result from the imprudent use of the privilege. Needless to say, the Church never intended this favor to be a source of the loss of vocation and even a grave danger to the soul. Reli- 82 'UsE OF CONFESSION PRIVILEGES gious in extreme difficulties of this kind, more than any., others, ne, ed the help of a man who knows the demands of .the religious life. If they cannot get it, then God's grace must be sufficient for them; but if they deliberately avoid it. they expose their souls to extreme peril. Apptication t6 Religious Men Provisions for confessors of religious men follow the same general lines as the legislation for Sisters: In lay insti-tutes of men there must be one ordinary and one e, xtra-ordinary confessor for each housE; and the local Ordinary is to grant a special con.lessor to the individual religious who asks for one. The Code is silent about extraordinary and special confessors for professed members of clerical institutes; but it seems to be the common practice to pro-vide these. All religious men may confess to their priest superiors who have confessional jurisdictioh; and all have the privilege of confessing to any priest having the faculties of the diocese, even though not .specially approved for religious. The prudent, use of these privileges is governed by the same general principles we have explained in treating of the privileges of Sisters. By way of br.ief and practicalsum-mary, we may say that these principles are aptly indicated by two words: competence and consistenc~l. In regard to the principle of competence, religious must bear in mind that the Church, in allowing them to confess to all priests with diocesan faculties, does not thereby approve all these priests for the direction of religious. This applies .not only to diocesan priests but also to members of one's own institute. Some lack the experience, or the right attitude, or some other quality needed for sure guidance in certain delicate problems. To be more concrete in a matter of such great impor-. 83 THE EDITORS tance, let us say quite candidly that there are some prob-lems that a young religious must take particular pains to face and solve honestly. Notable among these may be mentioned a strongly rebellious spirit, a fundamental inability to live and work harmoniously with one's breth-ren, a genuine weakness in regard to temperance or chas-tity. To embrace the religious-statk permanently and above all to go on to ordination in" the face of serious doubts in such matters is wrong. The competent confes-sor knows this and will put the proper alternatives squarely before his penitent. Another confessor might fail to recognize the case as truly serious, or, if he does rec-ognize it, might be too hesitant in asserting the remedy. The grave .results of what is falsely termed "kindness" in this matter are too well known to need comment. As for the principle of consistenqt, we have already ¯ indicated that; even in the ordinary affairs of the spiritual" life, it is unwise to shift confessors or directors needlessly. In serious matters such as those mentioned above, this shifting will amount to gross imprudence, if it means that a religious goes from one confessor to another to the extent that even a competent confessor would not have the opportunity of recognizing a difficulty as habitual. Conclusion ¯ Although some of the statements made in this a'rticle may sound rather severe, yet we did not make them with the intention of minimizing the privileges granted by the Church. Rather, our one desire was to make these privi-leges more useful I~y showing how they fit into the entire scheme of canonical legislation and approved asceticism. 84 Some Notes on the Part:icular l:::xamen Timothy Brosnahan, S.J.~ | N OUR spiritual life two sacraments pla~r a most impor- I kant part: Penance, which cleanses our souls from sin and gives us special graces for self-conquest and the rooting out of irregular affections; and the Holy Eucharist, which unites our cleansed souls to God in charity. Corre-sponding to these two institutions of Christ are two exer-cises of our religious life of the highest importance: exam-ination of conscience and meditation. By the first we are. helped and prepared for the worthy and efficacious recep-tion of the Sacrament of Penance, as well as for reaping the fruits of past confessions; by the second we are disposed and prepared for union with Christ in the reception of the Bles-sed Sacrament. The examination of conscience, therefore, mawr be called our daily Penance; meditation the daily com-plement to our Eucharist, and even our spiritual Eucharist itself when we cannot receive our Lord bodily. This parallelism between the life of the Church and our religious life and this. perfect adaptation of one to the other is worthy of note and is a comfort and an inspiration. these two exercises are performed faithfully, our advance-ment in perfection is assured and our~vocation and salva= tion are secure. On the contrary, the neglect of these exer-cises is the beginningof our loss ot~ earnestness and of the spirit of our vocation, with all the consequences that are entailed and that follow, slowly sometimes, but inevitably. 1Father Brosnahan died many years ago. These notes were culled from one of his conferences sent to us I~y Father Francis P. LeButie, S.J., who styles himself, "Father Tim's literary executor."~ED. ¯ TIMOTHY BROSNAHAN One part of th~ daily examination of conscience adopted and encouraged by most religious founders is the practice of the particular examen. Indeed, fidelity, to its use has become.a distinctive virtue of a fervent religious; neglect of it, or at least of something similar to it, is almost invariably followed by a loss of spiritual progress and is indicative of faltering interest in the affairs of one's soul and ¯ in the spirit of the religious vocation. The particular examen is preeminently a reasonable and businesslike manner of proceeding to uproot faults and to implant virtues. It is, if you wish, a species of spiritual bookkeeping, and as such has sometimes been lightly spoken of. Yet, if the children of this world, who are wise in their generation, keep their books, why should not the children, of light? The businessman who fails to keep his books or fails to balance them at stated intervals is, we are t'old by men conversant with mercantile affairs, a prospec-tive bankrupt. Such a man, if known, would get credit from no bahk. The practice of the particular examen is indicative of a sincere, painstaking, and businesslike desire of increasing in spiritual riches and of removing spiritual waste from our lives. It is a.small thing, yet its practice calls for much vir-tue. Its practice, therefore, even independently of the results it produces, would normally be a sign of virtue, self-control, and will-power. Usually the reason why we fail to.practise it is that we are not quite ready to overdome ourselves. The particular examen deals with one thing at a time, with an individual and distinctive virtue, vice, or fault. The first and main feature of the examen is the choice of this virtue to be'practised or fault or vice to be eradicated. Whether virtue or fault, this subject should be concrete, well-defined, with a real personal meaning in our livds. We 86 THE PARTICULAR EX~MEN have to avoid the vague and generic, the occasional and the abstract. Is it desirable, for instance that we should grow in charity? A little study will tell us whether we should aim at practising it first in words or in our manner; or again, if'in words, whether our efforts must be .general or rather directed towards some in particular with Whom we come into frequent contact, and whose views or manners annoy us. And so of any other virtue, One might as well choose Christian perfection as the subject for his particular examen as,. say, humility. But to choose to exercise definite ~humiliating. acts or to submit to .definite humiliations arising from the'criticism of others or from repioof or correction by superiors, is another and a concrete matter. According to many spiritual masters, there is in the soul of each of us one ',root defect," that hinders perfection and .which, if unchecked, disposesto sin. The fault is not neces-. sarily great in itself; but it can have very serious effects, like the defective cog that makes a machine wobbleand finally break down. ! On the negative side, the principal aim of the particular.examen should be the eradication of this fault. How can we detect a fault of this kind? We may know it from our distractions; for example, what is the usual motif, as musicians .say, of our thoughts when we are wool-gathering?' Or we may know it from our troubles; for example, what kind of discomfort most ~annoys us;. or in what' are we most apt to seek consolation or recreation when distressed or fatigued? Or, strange to say, we may.know this fault if we know our natural virtues. Each person has certain natural, dispositions that ~on-stitute his own personal temperament; Among these traits, of character there is generally a dominant natural virtue that can be perfected by grace and be the foundation of sanctity.-. Thus the saints differ ~¢astly in their charac- TIMOTHY BROSNAHAN teristic virtues because in them grace did not destroy their individuality but perfected it. This distinctive natural virtue, besides being the foun-dation on which one can build his perfection, is also a clue to his faults: and from these faults it must be purified wben it is transformed into perfect virtue~ If we consider the cardinal virtues and the virtues connected with them, we ~shall find that the distinguishing mark of on.e person is natural prudence, of another self-restraint, of another courage, of another justice. But real virtue avoids excess or defect, is balanced and adjusted to other virtues. If a person has only one of these naturally virtuous character-istics, we may rightly say of him, "I fear a man of one v~rtue"; for truly, besides being very often a bore, he is not to be relied on in a situation of any complexity. He will. ride his natural virtue complacently and freely, when it should be bridled by other virtues. For instance, if your special trait of character is pru-dence, there is danger of your over-exercising it about some special need of body or soul and of falling habitually into the vice which is called "prudence of the flesh," which is" in reality distrust .of God's providence over you and a selfish regard for your own temporal well-being. Tl'iere is danger of your becoming unduly solicitous of your health, your reputation, of what you call your rights. There is danger of your becoming timid, overcautious, distrustful, crafty and politic in your dealing with your equals, your superiors, even with God and your own conscience, by habitually using indirect, underhand and. political means of bringing about your own designs. If your special trait of charadter is justice, honesty or fairdealing, as you may call'it, you are likely to confound truthfulness with undue frankness, to assume to yourself the .mission of showing up frauds, whether these be THE I~ARTICUL&R EXAMEN externs or fellow religious. Also, you are likely to act as if ¯ you had a special vocation to g6 about, hunting for an underdog to defend, though as often as not you get the dogs mixed up. You pride yourself on being an honest man; and as a consequence of this you are hard in your "dealings with others and harsh in your judgment of them. Your sense of justice has made you so upright that you dispense with prudence, humility, kindness, even -with justice itself. You are a knight without-fear, perhaps, but not without reproach. If fortitude is your special trait of character, you are apt to be bard to govern, OVer-bearing, self-willed, impa-tient, irascible, rash, and intolerant. In your. own judg-me~ it, of course, you have a "strong charact~)": yet. to others youare simply stubborn, hardheaded, and intract-able. If you are a teacher, your will must be law for your unfortunate pupils; your only idea of remedying their defects is to crush them into subjection or to get them expelled. If you are a prefect of. discipline, your ideal is not a parent dealing with children, but a policeman dealing with law-breakers; and. the young people who are under you are apt to leave the institution with very ugly .memories of it. If your characteristic virtue is temperance, perhaps you hav~ the defects of this virtue. Your self-restraint, gentle-ness, meekness, may degenerate into weaRness or coward-ice; and, rather than run the riskof disturbing the serenity of your temper, you will avoid duties that call for strength of character, or even cooperate with what is .wrong rather than incur,the criticism or displeasure of "others. The foregoing are the defects most likely ~o be associ-ated with imperfect hatural virtues. The elimination of these, defects is a necessary condition for°perfecting the 89 TIMOTHY BROSNAHAN ., virtue; and the particular examination of conscience is an-approved and effective method of elimihating such defects. 1Nlaturally, this mere removal of defects is not the ultimate goal of the examen; it is but a step towards union with and imitation of Christ in the positive practice_ of the supernatural virtues. Books Received (From December 20, 1942, to February 20, 1943) THE AMERICA PRESS. New York. Shinin9 in Darkness. New Edition by Francis. X. Talbot, $,J. $2.00. His Father's Business. By Robert F. Grewen, S.,I. $1.50. We Wish" rb See desus. By Paul L. Blakely, S.,I. $2.00. The Followin9 of Christi Trans-lated by 3osephMalaise, S.3. Purse Edition: New Printing. $1.50. B. HERDER BOOK CO., St. Louis. Chapters'in Religion. By Rev. Carlton A. Prindeville, C.M., S.T.D. $2.00.'~ The Our Father. 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Maryknoll Mission Letters. By Maryknoll Missionaries. $ .50. ,JOSEPH F.WAGNER, Inc., New York. The Better Life. By the Reverend Kilian ,J. Hennrich, O.F.M.Cap. $2.50. FROM COMPILER, 431 George Street, Braddock, Pa. " The Epistles and" Gospels. For the Sundays, Holydays, Various Intentions and Speci.al Occasions in the Catholic Church of the Greek Rite. Compiled by the Reverend ,Julius Grigassy, D.D. $1.50. 90 Hidden Saint of Nazareth 'Matthew Germing, S.J. THE p~erogatives of' St. Joseph, spouse of Mary and foster-father of our Lord Jesus Christ, were explained in an article that appeared in an early number of this REVIEw1. The purpose of the present article is to direct attention to certain traits of character in this great saint and to offer a few comments on some Of hi~ virtues. The character of a saint, like that of any other man, has its natural elements that have not a little to do with " his sanctity, often giving it a special form or cast or inten-sity in some specific direction. Holiness, we .know, does not destroy natural gifts. It purifies and elevates them, holds out worthy aims and motives, and directs natural ability into wholesome channels. We know a great deal of. the natural disposition.s of Saints Peter andPaul and John, because thb writers of the. New Testament tell us much of what these saints said and did. They tell Us very little, ~in any direct way, of St. Joseph. St. Matthew (1: 19) mentions that he was "a just man," which is the scriptural way of saying, that he was a virtuous man. The same evangelist indicates in connection with the above statement that he was not a m~in who. acted hastily or on impulse, by saying, "he thought on these things." Joseph therefore deliberated when face to face with importa.nt decisions. In this respect he was unlike the impetuous Peter. From these and a few Other brief expressions foti~d in the Gospel We reasonably infer that St. Joseph was natur-ally a rather quiet, silent, and unobtrusive man. He mo~'es ~t. Joseph°s Title~ to Religiou~ Hoaor by Aloysius C. I~emP~r, S.J., v01. I, i~1~.74-84. ¯ ." 91 MATTHEW GERMING through life unobserved. Not a single word of his is recorded in the Gospel narrative. This is quite remark-able in view of the position he held in the Holy Family. He reflects, he acts, he wonders, at the momentous events that happen in his family and in which he plays an important part, but he is never the spokesman (cf. Matthew 1: 19; 2: 14, 21-23; Luke 2: 33, 48). Indeed, ,Joseph's very silence might be thought-to account for the late growth of devotion to him in the Church. The first two or three centuries after the Apostles tell us nothing of St. ~loseph. His name is not found in the early calendar of the saints. However, this is suffi-ciently accounted foroby the circumstances that in the early centuries of the existence of the Church, only martyrs received public veneration. Some of the Fathers of the Church do indeed speak of him and his prerogatives, but beforeth.e, days of St. Bernard (1091-1153) devotion to St. ~losepb seems to bare been almost entirely of a private " character. A church was ~ledicated to his l'ionor for the first time in the West, in the year- 1129 at Bologna. His feast, though celebrated by local churches in the middle ages, was not placed in the Roman calendar .until the sec-ond half of the fifteenth-century. Thus Gospel-and tra-dit'ion combined to invest the spouse of Maryand devotion tO him with an atmosphere of obscurity and silence that . lasted over a thousand years and is strongly suggestive of the hidden life the great patriarch led while on earth. But the bumble ~loseph was not to remain in obscurity permanently in the life of Christ's Church on earth. God's ways have always been to exalt, in due time, him that humbles himself. For the past five hundred years devo-tion to the foster-father of our Lord has gone on increas-ing by leaps and bounds until today it stands in popu-larity next to that of the Mother of God herself. And, as 92 HIDDEN SAINT OF NAZARETH if the Church wished to make up for the late recognition he received in thedevotional life of the faithful, the. supreme Pontiff Pius IX made him Patron of the Univer-sal Church and accorded him a second feast to do him honor under the new title. There is much in the life and character of St. Joseph that does not lie on ~he surface,- but is discovered by reflec-tion on the scanty items the evangelists have recorded of him. If we take into account these few. items and with them the delicate demands of the position he had to fill in the lives of Jesus and Mary, we shall be convinced, I believe, that St. Joseph must have been a man of sensitive and profound faith and of constant devotion to prayer. Had he not been so, it is"scarcely conceivable that infinite Wisdom would have selected him for the office he held. On reading what is said of Joseph in the Gospel, we cannot fail to see that he was always docile and obedient to legitimate authority, no matter how its commands were made known to him. This obedience had its roots in faith. A deep faith that had developed into an ever-present sense of the fundamental truths of revelation was the dis-tinctive mark of ~11 the patriarchs of old, of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and the rest. Strong characters these men were, and strong their faith and trust in God. So too was it with St. Joseph, who forms the connecting link betwedn the great saints of the old dispensation and those df the new. There was no weakness in him. Once the. will of God was .clear to him, he never hesitated. We see this illustrated at his very first appearance in the Gbspel nat- ' rative when an angel of the Lord bade him not to fear to take t6 himself Mary his wife. Again, his faith is mani-fest in the trying circumstances under Which .he traveled with.Mary to Bethlehem " in obedience to the decree of a pagan emperor, and in the command he received at night /V~ATT~-IEW GERMING ~to take the Child and his mother and fly into EgypL By faith hd saw God and God's will in the little duties of his life no less than in the important charges entrusted to him. Apart from a few ex, traordinary events, that life of his was, externally, a very ordinary one. His' daily ioutine at Nazareth was much like that of any other 3ew of the poorer class who was head of a small family. It consisted of his daily work as a carpenter, little deal.ings with the townspeople, his converse with 3esus and Mary, probably a little recreation at the end of the day, and the weekly Sabbath-day rest. Common and monotonous it was, one might say. So it would have been, had not the light and strength of faith been its animating principle. Faith in God permeated St. 3oseph's habit of thought, was his support and source of joy: God and His fatherly providence, the angels in their constant errands of mercy and love between heaven and earth, the souls of his saintly ancestors in the other world, the great spiritual truths revealed to the patriarchs and prophets, all these were as real to him as the sky over his head or the material house in which he lived with 3esus and Mary. By faith he knew that Mary was thd chosen spouse of the Holy Ghost, and that the Boy who daily lived in his presence, growing into manhood under his very eyes, ~vas the promised Messias, the very Son of God. ° He had heard-holy Simeon say: "Behold, this child is set. for the fall arid for the resurrection of many in Israel, and for a sign which shall be contradicted" (Luke 2: 34). The words never passed from 3o~eph's memory. He pondered their meaning. He thought of them when he saw the Child at prayer and at play, and later when he 'observed him at work and noted his ~ready and humble obedience, and the wisdom and grate that' became manifest with the passing years. To the purely human eyes of the neighbors, 94 HIDDEN SAINT. (~F NAZ,~RETH and even to "his brethren," Of whom the evangelist was to say later that they "did not believe in him," JeSus was just "the carpenter's son"; Mary, the mother of a some-what unusual young "man, nothing more. But to the supernaturally enlightened mind of St. Joseph, Jesus was the Redeemer of the .world, the long expected of. nations; Mary, the mother of the Son of God. . These were the mysteries in the midst of which JOseph moved and lived at Nazabeth. We have no natural means of ascertaining tee effects on his interior ,,life of this daily and hourly contact Wi~h the supernatural: Only the Holy. Ghost, through the power of His grace coupled with pray- 'erfUl consideration on our part, can reveal them to us. But ¯ we know that Joseph was a thoughtful, man, endowed with a reflective cast of mind. He prayed and meditated. And what is of much greater consequence, his soul,.was enriched with marvelous graces. This means that he had and"che.rished holy thou~16ts and desires, was the daily recipient of lights and inipirations from above, was ever growing and rnatfiring in holiness in the very noonday light of faith. Faith and the spirit of faith, thus highl~r developed in. the soul of the spouse of Mary, found their natural expres-sion in prayer: We said above that he must have been devoted to prayer; he was a man of prayer. In one sense, everyone must be a man of prayer. Prayer is a funda-mental duty of man. The reason is simple. Every intel-ligent being must worship God, that is, acknowledge his dependence on Him as the Creator and Lord of all things, and thi~ is prayer.Everyone must praise God, reverence His Holy Name, and this is prayer. All men must give thanks to God for the gifts and benefits they receive from His hands, must petition Him for help and grace, implore pardon for° their sins and infidelities, all of which is prayer. /V~IATTH EW GERMING :Prayer therefore is a duty incumbent on everyone, and to this extent everyone must be a man of prayer:. But when we say of St. Joseph that he was a man of prayer, we mean much more than that he fulfilled this ,genera[. and fundamental duty. We mean thathe put in ¯ . practice the scriptural exhortation to pray always, to pray without ceasing (Luke 18: I; I Thessalonians 5: 17), and he did so before either our Lord or St. Paul had explic-itly enjoined it. He lived in the spirit ,of prayer. The thoughts and sentiments of his heart were habitually directed to his Father in heaven in a conscious attitude of faith and hope and love, of praise and thanksgiving, of petition and oblation of himself and of all he did. This means muchmore than praying well at stated times of the day. 3oseph did that t6o, as did all God-lea.ring men in Israel. They were bound to do this. But St. Joseph made the whole day a prayer. Whether he was with ,Jesus and Mary in their house at Nazareth, or working at the carpenter's bench, or talking to a neighbor or customer, or trudging along the dusty road'on one of the three annual pilgrimages to the holy city, he bore himself with a composure and recollection that gave evidence of his prayerful soul. One may say, how could it have been ¯ otherwise? Was h~ not blessed with the companionship of Jesus and Mary? Very true. He saw and touched . what the patriarchs and prophets before him had longed to see and had not seen. And yet, he lived by faith and received the reward of faith. With his ,bodily eyes he beheld Jesus, the Son of Mary: by. faith he believed that this same Jesus was the Son of the living God. Certainly, the wondlerful circumstances in which St.~ Joseph lived at Nazareth were most favorable to prayer and piety and to holiness of life in general.Cath-olics in the world of the twentieth century will probably 96 ~' HIDDEN SAINT OF NAZ~.RETH -say the same. thing of the circumstances in which, religious live in their several communities today; and if they do, they are right. A great happiness.and a fertile opportun-ity for sanctification it is to live in a house in which our Lord dwells. But we must remember that while it is a privilege and a grace, it .is also a responsibility. The ques-tion whetherwe are profiting.by this'opportunity as well as 2oseph profited by the blessing that was his while he lived under the same roofas Jesus and Mary is a matter that desdrves our frequent consideration. We can be cer-tain that he availed himself in full measure of the holy example of the Blessed Virgin to bdcome more like to her 'in angelic purity of heart, in modesty of demeanor and, most of all,in ardent love for God and man. He was an apt .subject f0rlearning from the Immaculate Virgin and her divine Son. He was humble, single-minded in out-look, silent and recollected, docile to the inspirations of the Holy Ghost. He was the head of the Holy Family. In legal form and rank, the order of precedence-was Joseph, Mary, Jesus. But in respect to holiness of life, the order was the reverse, thus: Jesus, Mary, Joseph. These three represented the highest summit of holiness ever attained, or possible of attainment on earth~by any-individual or a group of individuals. They may be said to h'ave consti-tuted the first religious community in the Church, St. Jo-seph being the Superior; and they set up a singularly high ideal of perfection for the imitation of all succeeding com-munities. Dail~r prayer is an essential function or practice of every religious community. Among the Jews the recital of set prayers, whether in the family circle or in the syna-gogue, was chiefly the duty of men. Women and children joined in. It may appear astounding, but it is true that we are in possession of a prayer which was said by St. Joseph MATTHEW GERMING twice every day, morning and evening, from the time he was able to read until the day of his death.~ It is an inspired prayer, taken from the' books of Deuteronomy and Num-bers2. and was the first prayer taught to Jewish children. The opening verses read as follows: Hear, 0 Israel, The Lord our God i~ one Lord. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, And with thy whole soul, and with thy whole s,trength, And these words which I command thee this day Shall be in thy heart, And thou shalt tell them to thy children, And thou shalt meditate upon them sitting in thy house And walking on thy journey, Sleeping and rising. And thou shalt bind them as a sign on thy band, And they shall bd and shall move between thy . eyes. And thou shalt write"them in the entry " And on the doors of thy house. The recitation of this prayer twice a daymthe entire ;~.~prayer Consists of sixty-one linesmwas obligatory on. all the men in Israel, and it is thought that our Blessed Lord Himself said it regularly. The great commandment of 1ov~ is stated and then.emphasized by an injunction that calls for frequent, if not continual meditation on its con-tents-- the obligation of centering all one's thoughts and desires and love on God our Creator and Lord. No doubt ~-Deuteronomy 6: 4-9;" 11: 13-21; Numbers 15: 37-41. On this whole subject cf. Willam: MarF the Mother of Jesus, translated by Eckhoff. p. 143, ft. 98 HIDDEN SAINT OF NAZARETH there were God-fearing J~ws all over the world who made a serious effort to comply with. this precept.~ This i~ pre-cisely what we have supposed St. Joseph did habitually in the course bf his every-day life. He furnishes religious of every order and congregation a perfect pattern of prayer, and not only of prayer, but of every kind df virtue. We must not fail to take into account the fact that St. Joseph was'a workman. He handled the implements of daily toil, enjoyed little or no leisure, was industrious and contente.d with his occupation. Work is the law of life. It absorbs a. multitude of troubles, mental and physi.- cal. Many people would be more happy if they worked more and talked less, in imitation of our saint. He spent his days in hard work, in poverty, obscurity, and prayer, and in this way fulfilled admirably the duties God had laid upon him. At the present time it is almost taken for granted that great things can be accomplished only by means of wealth and position and influence with the mighty. So it is with the material ~nterprises of this world. But in the realms of the spiritual, .earthly norms are reversed. God often chooses men destitute of the means which, humanly speaking, ma~e for success and through them achieves great spiritual results; "that no flesh should glory in hissight" (1Cor. 1: 28). He did this in the case of St. Joseph, the Cur~ of Ars, Th~r~se of Lisieux. It is true that in many other instances our Lord has deigned to make use of the services of men and women of outstanding natural ability and varied human acquirements for the spread of His kingdom on earth and the glory of Hi~ Holy Name. But in all such cases natural endowments were accompanied by a high degree of the love of God and' of prayer, profound humility and obedience. These are the virtues that make for the success which alone counts in the eyes of God. MATTHEW GERMING In these dreadful times, religious may well turn with increased devotion to the patron of the universal Church and implore his intercession. By fervent prayer to him and by the practice of the lowly virtues of humility, obedience, and poverty that distinguished his career on earth they have it in their power to .do much for the cause of Christ and His Church and for the spiritual and temporal wel-fare of millions of souls. Pamphle÷ Notices The Maryknoll Bookshelf, Maryknoll, New York, publishes four catalogues of mission plays and appropriate musical selections that you might find intere.sting. The catalogues are listed as follows: Book I: Mission Plags for Children (3 cents) ; Book II: Mission Plags for Young People (6 cents) ; Book III: Mission Plags [or Col-lege Groups and Adults (8 cents) ; Book IV: Musical Selections Suit-able for Mission Plag Programs (3 cents). Write to: Marykn011 Bookshelf, Maryknoll, New York. Concerning Mail We are doing our best to get the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to you on time. But postal delays are almo.~t inevitable these dhys, especially in regard to second class mail. We want you to notify us when you do not receive your copy of the REVIEW, but, in view of the transportation difficulties, we ask you to wait a week or two beyond the normal time for receiving your copy of the REVIEW before yoti write to us. 100 Superiors and Manit:estation oJ: Conscience Adam C. Ellis, S.J. FROM early Christian times it was customary .for those who wished to attain to perfection to seek out a ma-ture and experienced guide with whom they could treat of spiritual things and .to whom they revealed the secrets of their souls so that he might give them wise and practical direction. Thus, many hermits in thel deserts of Egypt, upon le.arning of the holiness of St. Anthgny, moved their cells to that part of the desert where he dwelt, in order that they might have the benefit of his spiritual direction. When the first monasteries, or groups of monks living in common, were established, the Father Abbot was also the spiritual guide of his subjects, ,who freely made known to him their anxieties and spiritual problems. Thus, by custom, the practice of manifestation of conscience was introdu&d into the religious life and eventually became a matter of obligation in. many institutes. Meaning of Manifestation To manifest one's conscience means to reveal to another person the inner state of.one's Soul in order to obtain advice and guidance regarding the doubts and difficulties of the spiri.tual life. The phrase, "inner ~tate of one's soul," com- .prises not only one's fault~, bu.t also the various inclinations one experiences towards both good and evil, the trials and temptations one must undergo, the difficulties encountered in the practice of virtue, the inspirations and good desires one has received from God. From this description it will be seen that the purpose of manifestation ofconsdence differs from that of Sacramental Confession. The essential purpose of confession is the for- 101- ADAM C. ELLIS giveness of sins: the principal aim of manifestation is spir-itual direction." In other words, one.gives the director a complete and clear insight into ,his ioul, so that the director may help him to correct his faults, 6vercome his evil ten-dencies, correspond with the inspirations of grace, and prac-tice virtue more effectively. This difference of purpose does not mean, of course, that the account of conscience need be separated from con-fession. It can be made in or out of confession. When made in confession, it becomes a natural supplement to the so-called confession oi~ devotion and supposes a regular con-fessor who also fills the role of spiritual director. Usefulness of Manifestation All spiritual writers admit the beneficial effects of the account of conscience when given freely and sincerely. It has always been ~ecognised as one of the principal means to progress in the spiritual life, no~ only for religious, but for persons living in the world as well. It is the neces.sary pre-lude to enlightened spiritual guidance. In worldly matters it is normally considered a wise thing to consult others. We give our family doctor'a sincere account of our. bodily ailments, as well as of any s.ymptoms which may help him to understand our physical condition better. In every-day business matters we consult our lawyer to be certain, that .our actions do not fall afoul of the law, as well as to pro-tect our rights. How much more eagerly, then, should we seek counsel in the matters of highest importance, those of the soul? Moreover, the most enlightened spiritual director V.dll be very much limited in his direction, unless his con-sultant gives him an intelligent insight into the state of his soul. -But all good things can be abused. And the fact that the practice of manifestation of conscience was made obliga- 102 MANIFESTATION OF ('~ONSCIENCE tory i~y rule in many lay institutes did ,give rise to such abuses, since all the necessary safeguards are not at hand in the ~ase of lay superiors. Pope Leo XIII issued a decree on thissubject on Deeember 17, 1890 (Quemadmodum),in which he ~mentioned three such abuses: lay superiors required,, directly or indirectly, avowals which by their nature belonged to the tribunal of penance; they restricted too much the freedom 0f going to confession; and they reserved to themselves, in the matter of receiving Holy Communion, a direction which belongs for the most part to the confessor. To remedy these abuses, the Pope forbade all lay supe-riors (both Brothers and Sisters) to induce their subjects to give their intimate manifestation of conscience to them. He also ordered deleted from all constitbtions; directories, and custom books of all lay orders and congregations of both sexes every direction pertaining to the intimate manii~esta-tion of heart and consclence to lay superiors. In 1901 this prohibition was extended by the Sacred .Congregation of Bishops and Regulars to masters and mistresses of novices" in lay institutes (Normae, N. 79). Finally, in 1917 the Code of Canon Law extended the prohibition to all reli-gious superiors, even to those who are priests. Does this mean that in modern times, the Church has changed her mind in regard to the value of manifestation of conscience for religious? A careful study of canon 530 will give us the .answer. "All religlous superiors are strictly forbidden to induce their subjects, ih any way whatever, to make a manlfesta÷ion of, conscience to ÷hem {c.anon 530, § I). "Subjects, however; are not forbidden to open their minds freely and spontaneously to their superiors: nay more, it is desirable that they. approach their superiors with filial confidence, and, i.f the sup6rlors be priests, expose to them their doubts and troubles of conscience also (canon 530, § 2)." 103 ADAM C. ELLIS Explahation of the Law All reli~Tious super.lots are forbidden: The term supe-riors must be understood here to include those to whom, the Code gives that title, that is to say, those who govern, the institute, its provinces, and its individual houses, as well as those who take their places, s6ch as visitors, vice-provincials, vice-rectors, and the priors of abbeys. To induce their subjects in ang manner'whatsoever: The term subjects includes not only the professed reli-gious, but novices and postulants as well, since they are subject to the domestic power of the superior, oT6 induce in.ang wag whatever, is a summary statement of what the decree of Leo XIII (Quemadmodum, n. 2) gave in detail: "His Holiness formally forbids superiors, both men and women, of whatever rank or preeminence, to seek, directly or indirectly, by precept, counsel, intimidation, threats, or flattery to induce their subjects to make the said manifes-tation of conscience to them." Superiors may not, there-fore, show a marked preference for those of their subjects who do freely and spontaneously give them an account of their conscience, nor may they treat with ic01dness those subjects who refrain from giving such an account. The law does not forbid superiors to inquire delicately concerning the reasons for the sadness or trouble that they see afflicting their subjects. To make such inquiries may at times be an obligation of charity; b.ut the superior must be careful not to insist if he sees that the subject prefers not to explain the source of his condition. To matte a manifestation of conscience to them: We have already explain.ed that manifestation of conscience means the revelation of the inner state of one's soul. It does no~ include the chapter of faults, customary in many insti-tutes, because this is limited to external faults and to vio-lations of the constitutions that can be noticed by others. 104 ~NIFESTATION OF CONSCIENCE N~r does it include the canonical visitation of religious made by their own °religious superiors, as prescribed by canon 51 l, because the object of the visitation is external government (cf. canons 513 ands618, § 2, 2°). ' , Subjects, however, are not forbidden to open their minds freely and spontaneously to their superiors: What ~s forbidden by the law is all force or inducement on the-part of the superior, not the free and spontaneous manifes-tation made by the shbject. Nay more, it is desirable that they approach their supe-riors with filial confidence: Hence it is not only.licit for a religious to make a manifestation of conscience to-his superior, provided he does so freely and spontaneously, but it is recommended as ~sometbing desirable. There should exist between superior and subject that fine rela-tionship which exists in the model family between parent and child. What is more natural than that a son or daughter go to father or mother for advice in time of.doubt or trial? Similarly a religious will usually find a sympa-thetic counselor and a prudent guide in the person of his superior, especially in regard to the spirit of his institute and the proper understanding of the rules and constitutions. The superior has the added advantage of knowing his sub-ject, at least from his external conduct, a point of view which the confessor often lacks. This filial confidence in superiors is necessary and help-ful ~n other matters as well: Superiors are human beings; they can and do make mistakes occasionally. Misunder.- standings may arise, which can be cleared up easily if a religious has the good sense to go to his superior 'and talk matters over with him. On his part a religious may fail by avoiding his superior. If this be the case, it is difficult to see how mutual confidence ca~i exist. The probabilities are that the superior will not know his subject, while the 105 ADAM C, ELLIS latter will be inclined to criticise his superior, or at least grumble because he is misunderstood. The only remedy for such a situation lies in a frank unburdening of his mind to the superior. He will find that the superior will be relieved to find outthe true state of things; and superior and subject will become better acquainted with each other for their mutual benefit. It is desirable that, if the superiors be priests, the!t expose to them their doubts and troubles of conscience also. We have just seen that, in a general way, the Church recommends the voluntary manifestation of one's con-science to the superior. However, in regard to "doubts and troubles of conscience," the Code makes an important qualification~ It positively encou.rages religious to mani-fest even these to priest superiors; regarding lay superiors, it does not positively .recommend such intimate manifes-tation, though it does not forbid it. What is meant by "doubts and troubles of con-science"? The expression certainly includes all doubts hnd anxieties concerning sins. It seems also to include other questions of c~nscience which, because of their diffi-culty, importance, or .uncertainty, require the help of one who is well-versed in moral and ascetical theology--a quality that may be lacking even in very holy lay supe~ ¯ riots. If their superiors are priests, religious are recom-mended by the Churchoto give them their fullest.confidence in all matters pertaining to their spiritual life. Every-thing else being equal, they will find no more sympa-thetic friend and prudent counselor than him who has only the best interests of each individual member of his community at heart and who, as a priest, is the repre-sentative of the Master of the Spiritual Life, Who came that men may bare life, and havre it more abundantly. 106 If the superior is not a. priest, he should remember that the Church does not encourage subjects to give an account of their doubts and troubles of conscience to him. Hence, ordinarily he will advise the subject who wishes to do so to consult his confessor or .spiritual director in these particu-lar matters. On the other hand, he should gladly receive the spontaneous manifestations made by a subject regard-ing other matters of the interior life. This is quite in accord with the mind of the Church, provided always that the subject does so voluntarily, without any urging or coercion on the part of the superior.~ When subjects come freely and spontaneously to the superior to give him an account of conscience, he should receive them with fatherly kindness, listen patiently and at length, and question them Prudently in order to obtain all the information necessary to give them wise .counsel: and direction. Both superiors anal subjects should remem-ber that all matters talked of in manifestation of con-science are safeguarded by the highest kind of professional secrecy, though not by the sacramental seal, unless it hap-pens that the superior is a priest, and the subject mani-fests his conscience to him by actually confessing to him. Novice-Master and Manifestation The.mas~er (mistress) of novices is not a superior in the canonical sense. For this reason, commentators on canon 530 are not agreed that the prohibition of this canon applies to him., Despite this controversy, it is certain that' he cannot demand of his novices a manifestation of such things as normally pertain to the Sacrament of Penance. In the case of a lay master of novices, the decree Quemad-modum denounced this as a grave abuse and the Normae, N. 79, explicitly forbade it.As for priests, the Code even forbids them to hear .the confessions of their novices 107 ADAM C. ELLI, S except in certain special cases (c.891); it is evident, there-fore, that they may not demand such intimate revelations outside of confession. Nevertheless, the ,master of novices must ha~e some rights of inquiry. He alone has the right and obligation of providing for the formation of the novices; he alone is charged w.ith the direction of the novitiate(c. 561). Under t~is personal guidance, the canonical year of novi-tiate has for its object the forming of the mind of the nov-ice by means of the study of the rule and constitutions, by pious meditations and assiduous prayer, by instruction on those matters, which pertain to the vows ~ind the virtues, by suitable exercises in r.ooting out the germs of vi,.ce, in regulating the motions of the soul, in acquiring v,rtues (c. To attain these objects of the novitiate, there must be mutual confidence between master and novice;' and the novice master must be free to inquire about things which pertain to his office and do not border on confessional mat-ter. Such objects of licit inquiry would be: one's reactions to. his brethren and common life; his progress in prayer; attraction to certain kinds of spirituality; qualifications for certain offices; difficulties with the rule, and so forth. The novice, on his part, will best prepare himself to become a fervent religious by being frank and open with the master, whose only task is to train him in the way of the religious life as outlined in the rules and constitutions of the institute. 108 The Divine Prie t:ly Vocation James T. Meehan, S.J. WHAT is a vocation to the priesthood? The frequent repetition of this question, together with questions about the r.eligious life,, is the natural accompani-ment and aftermath of vocation week. In REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS for January (II, p. 25), Father Risk indicated clearly the essentials of a vocation to the.religious life. The present article is concerned with outlining the approved Catholic notion of a vocation to the priesthood. Different Theories From the seventeenth century to our own the general idea was that vocation exclusively concerned God and the individual soul of a candidate. Others must leave every-thing to the inspirations of the Holy Spirit. If God wanted a boy for the priesthood, God would call him in a secret but unmistakably plain manner. No one should interfere in the process. No one should presume to direct a young man into the priesthood for fear of intruding some-one who did not have a divine call. Early in the twentieth century occurred a change in vocation thought. Vocation, according to the new opinion, is not a secret process in its entirety. In fact, the principal element is not the least bit secret. The principal element in vocation:is the public, official, canonical invitation issued by ecclesiastical authority. This public call, together with the actual rite of ordination, constitutes one as called by God, "as Aaron was," with a divine vocation. Advocates of this idea found support in the important Roman decision1 of June 20, 1912, which states: "1) No .!Acta Apostolicae Sedis, IV, p. 485. Kempf's translation of ~'ermeersch: Religious and Ecclesiastical Vocation, Herder, 1925, p. 26. " 109 JAMES T. MEEHAN one ever has any right t0.ordination antecedently to the free. choice of the bishop. °2)The requisite on the part of the one to l~e ordained, which requisite is called sacerdotal voca-tion, does not consist, at least necessarily and ordinarily, in a certain inclination of the subject or-in inducements of the Holy Spirit to enter the priesthood. 3) On the contrary, in order that one may be rightly called by the bishop, nothing further is necessary than the right intention together with fitness (based on the .gifts of natureand of grace and sufficiently confirmed by a good life and the required learning), which give well-founded hope that he will be able to fulfill the duties of the sacerdotal state properly and observe the obligations of that state holily." One would think that this decree should settle the question. Yet the older notion of inner attraction would not easily down. Some authors tried to reconcile the two theories by saying that the call of the bishop referred to external ritualism but that the inner call was presupposed. Others held that the call of the bishop concerned the external.government of the Church, while the interior call belonged to the sphere of conscience. Today, of course, all writers'are agrded in accepting 1) suitability, 2) right intention an~l 3) canonical call as the dements of a divine priestly vocation. But there remain a gre.at number of excellent priests and religious who still-hesitate about sug- ~gesting the priesthood to likely boys. Reflection on the origin and growth of their own vocations complicates the matter. Perhaps not a few such priests and religious are convinced--and rightly so--that they followed the higher call under the inspiration of a special favor from God. It seems almost that God had drawn them forcibly and irresistibly to this life work by a spe.cial attraction, an infier divine.call, which they dared not resist. In order to clear away obscurities and relieve the hesitancy of such" 110 DIVINE PRIESTLY VOCATION .per.sons a. brief historical treatment is in order. Before the seventeenth century no mention is made of the priestly vocation in the sense of an interior call. The priesthood was a public office. Its members were recruited according to need by the ruling bishops. Young men of sufficient knowledge and piety were trained, somewhat after the manner of apprentices, in the cathedral rectories. In due time they advanced to the priesthood through the several stages of minor and.major orders. The notion of a neces-sary interior call would have struck those ages as a novelty. The Council ot: T~ent Theoretically, certain qualifications of learning and virtue were always demanded; yet, long before the Coun-cil of Trent, grave abuses in this matter had crept into the Church. Especially grave was the selling of the priest-hood, abbacies .and prelacies, or the granting of such dig-nities as court fa-Cors. Trent ifisisted on the personal quali-fications of candidates. We find these qualifications suc-cinctly expressed in the Catechism of the Council of Trent, written at the express command of Pope Paul V. Here we read: "The burden of this great office should not be rashly imposed on anyone, but is to be conferred on those only who by their holiness of life, their knowledge, faith and prudence, are able to bear it.''2 So far, so good! Yet, fitness and interior dispositions, which all consider as necessary prerequisites of a vocation, gradually gave way to an interior divine call of a special sort as the essential criterion of vocation. Why was this special interior call demanded? For answer we turn to the condition of the Church in seventeenth-century France, cradle of the new theory. The reform decrees of Trent were welcomed in 1573 2Translation by MeHugh and Callan,p. 318, Wagner, New York, 1923. 111 JAMF~ T. MEEH~N by the Assembly of French Clergy,, who petitioned the king for the erection of seminaries in accord with the intentions of the Council. 'However, France was being torn apart by the bloody Huguenot wars. The Church was ba.dly dis-organize. d and demoralized. Twenty-eight episcopal sees had no.bishops. In 1595 matters were even worse. After "r~conciling Henry ~IV with Rome, the Papal Legate Wrote that only forty-three out of one hundred and forty dioceses had .bishops. And of that paltry number few were intelli-gent. They were lax in the conferring of Orders. ¯ Hence many priests were ill-prepared, too young, ignorant, or ordained without proper canonical titles. Seminaries su¢h as we have today were simply non-existent. Saint Vincent de Paul suggested the first remedy for this deplorable condition, namely, eight-clair retreats later extended to three months---consisting of an hour's lecture in the morning on the principal points of theology and a similar evening lecture on prayer, virtues, and qualities of the priest. Small, informal discussions throughout the day supplemented the lectures. Priests in charge of these so-called retreats were anxious that only fit subjects be pro-moted 'to Orders. Yet how" eliminate the unfit? To solve this knot.ty problem, vocation was gradually given a new meaning. No longer did it mean the active call of a bishop but the passive reception of a special inner experience in the soul of a candidate. In due course this experience was labeled as "divine vocation by attraction," and still later it. became the focus of the attraction theory of vocation. Unless the candidate experienced such an attraction and proved ~t tothe satisfaction of the seminary,he should not be ordained. Here we have an ingenious device to weed out unworthy candidates. With it bishops could gracef~ully dismiss such persons, even despite the insistence of rich and powerful ]~enefactors. 112 DIVINE PRIESTLY VOCATION The "'Attraction" Tbeorg Now for one word' of caution before explaining the attraction theory. Note that attraction can be taken to mean: 1) the definite, continuous inclination, let us say, to become a priest; 2) the phenomenon of a more or less mystical experience of God palpably, as it were, drawing the soul to a higher life. Certainly attraction in the first sense Often plays quite a pa.rt in one's choice of vocation. Talents, education, family background, reading, personal observation, or even some chance conversation may arouse such an attraction for any life work. Provided one's qualifications are such as give prudent hopes of success in a w6rk, the attraction towards that work is a good sign that one will do well in it. So much for attraction in the ordinary sense. But what about its function in the attrac-tion theory of vocation? For a priestly vocation, proponents of the attraction theory demanded the extraordinary. Since this is a pecu-liarly divine work, one must take special care to investigate the divine decrees. He must be assured of his election to the work by more than human prudence. He must have a peculiarly divine sign that. he is called. One must be attracted by a special inclination, a special invitation of the Holy Ghost. Authors speak of this special attraction in various ways. They call it a sweet impulse of grace, an interior sentiment, an inward, deep, lasting, constant, strong, abiding force. M. Olier called it a "movement of God who carries the whole soul and inclines it to this divine profession, not by sentiment, nor different starts and jumps, but by His dominion descending to the roots of the soul in stable and unchanging consistency.''8. This is a cardinal point in the theory: divine vocation was dis- -tinct from the qualifications of suita, bility and right inten- 8Quoted by Lahitton, in La Vocation Sacerdotale, Paris, 1914, p. 6. 113 JAMES T. MEEHAN tion. It came prior to the~bishop's call in the name of God. It was. required in addition to what the Church " demands for valid and licit ordination. Seminary direc-tors had to investigate this "vocation" and make sure of its authenticity. The True Catholic Notion Against this theory of "inner" .vocation stands the Roman Decision of 1912,. quoted towards the beginning of this article. In the same~year an Italian Catechism of Pope Pius X stated that."nobody can enter orders of his own will but he ought to be called by God by means of his own bishop, that is, he ought to have a vocation with the virtues and aptitudes required for the sacred ministry." Inthis catechism vocation is equated with call by the bishop, after the bishop has become, convinced of the vir-tue and aptitudes of the candidate. Pope Pius XI in 1935 ¯ issued his glorious e.ncyclical on the Catl4olic Pri.esthood. Thereifi we read that "a true priestly vocation.is not established so much by some inner feeling or devout attrac-tion, which may sometimes be absent or hardly percep-tible; but rather by a right intention in the aspirant, together with a combination of physical, intellectual and moral qualities which make him fitted for such a state of life. He must look to the priesthood solely from the noble motive of consecrating himself to the service of God and the salvation of souls; he must likewise have, or at least strive to acquire,, solid piety; perfect purity of life and sufficient knowledge, as We have explained . Thus he shows that he ,is called by God to the priestly state." .To sum up, we may say that there are three approved ways of considering or speaking of vocation to the priest-hood. The vocation may be: 1) Germinal; or 2) Inte-rior: or 3) Canonical. 114 DIVINE PRIESTLY VOCATION 1) Germinal vocatio~ is mentioned in canon 1353. ¯ 'Here we read that "priests, especially pastors, must make special efforts to preserve boys who show signs of an ecclesiastical vocation from the contagions of the world, to form them in piety, to initiate them in the study of let-ters, and to foster in them the germof a divine vocation." FatherVermeersch tells us that this germof vocation means the dispositions, inclinations, and actions which give pru-dent hope that the boy is or Will become suitable and.that he is not altogether opposed to the idea of the priesthood, It is evident that parents, teachers, confessorsand others would do a glorious work for the Church by awakening ambitions to the priesthood in such boys. 2) Interior vocation goes a step beyond the germinal stage. It consist~ essentially in this, that a young man is able and willing to assume the office of the. priesthood if the Church will accept him. Evidently the grace of God is present; but it need not .manifest itself in any extra-ordinary way. In practice, there is sufficient sign of a real interior vocation in the following case. The time comes when a youth must make up his own mind about his work in life. He needs information about the requirements and opportunities~ of. several occupa-tions. He must consider them in the light of his owri tal-ents and .inclinations. He must-weigh befoie God the pros and cons of entering upon a definite life-work. If he is wise, be will seek advice that is sympathetic and expert. Above all, if he is thinking seriously of the priesthood, he may need the guidance of a regular confessor for several months in order to gain some assurance that h~ can qu'alify for Holy.Orders. If, after prudently ~onsidering his case, the confes~o/judges the penitent is suitable, then the lat-ter may make up .his own mind and calmly apply for admission to a seminary. If he measures up to entrance 115 JAMES T. MEEHAN standards and is received, his very admission to the semi-nary gives him a relative and provisional certainty of ¯ vocation. If he makes the.seminary course creditably and continues in his conviction that he is fitted for the work, he may make his final decision to become a priest. One who acts in this way knows as surely as he can know any-thing of the future that God is giving and Wiil continue give him all the graces necessary for the .worthy reception ,of this great Sacrament. 3) Canonical:vocation is the external call to the priest-hood which comes towards the end of long preparation. During the years.of training .the candidatehas developed in virtue as w~ll as learning. He has fulfilled all the. require.ments of Church legislation to the satisfaction 6f seminary directors. He has given proofs of his suitability for the great privilege and work of the priesthood. Then only does he receive his divine priestly vocation, which is initiated by an official notification that he is to be ordained, and which is completed by the actual co.nferring of the ¯ Sacrament through the hands of the ordaining prelate. Vocation Booklet Father Thomas Bowdern of the Creighton University, is a worried desu(t! He wrote a thesis on vocations and published his main conclusions in a little booklet entitled Ji Study of Vocations. We recommended the booklet in the, November, 1942, number of the REVIEW. Many of our readers wrote to Father Bowdern for copies. He mailed the copies; but one package was returned to him. The label was missing; hence, he does not know whom he has involuntarily defrauded. Hence the -.worry;. If you wrote for booklets and didn't get them, please notify Father Bow-dern. Incidentally, we may add that.Father Bowdern still has a limited supply of the booklets. Price: 10 cents a copy. Address: Rev. Thomas S. Bowdern, S.ff., The Creight~n University, Omaha, Nebraska. 116 THE following booklist, together with the list previously pfib-fished (Cf. Vol. I, p. 105) presents a fair cross-section of the best sl~iritual writers and their works in the English language. Almost every spiritual topic is represented. No doubt, there are some omissions and there will not be full agreement on certain particular selections. However, it is hoped the lists, as they stand, will be of some assistance in building up the spirituaFlibrary. A word about the Scriptures. The Bible is, in a way, the spir-itual book par excellence, which every religious should know .thor~ oughly, especially the New Testament. To this end a good com-mentary is invaluable--such as the Scripture Manuals of Madame Cecilia, the commentary of Fathers Callan and McHugh, or the one recently published under the auspices of the Confraternity of Chris-tian Doctrine to accompany the revised edition of the New Testa-ment. The Old Testament will lose some of its formidableness if it is approached through selections such as are found in Mothe~ Mary Eaton's "The Bible Beautiful or ArChbishop Goodier's The Bible for Every Day. I prefer, howevdr, in my lists, to. classify the Bible as primarily a meditation book, or rather, as the meditation book, to which the religious should return again and again for the light and encouragement needed to carry out his sublime destiny. --- AUGUSTINE KLAAS, S.J. ANONYMOUS The Secrets of the Religious Life, edited by the Rev. Oliver Dolphin. (A sparkling gem of wisdom three hundred ¯ years old.) ARNOUDT, P. J., S.J, (1865) The lmitbtion of the Sacred Heart of desus. (Written in the manner of Thomas ~ Kempis) ATHANASIUS, SAINT (3 7 3) St. Anthony the Hermit, translated by J. B. McLaughl.in. (The life and spiritual message of the patriarch of all religious. ) 117 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS BAINVEL, JEAN V., S.J. (1937) The Devotion to the Sacred Heart. (The most complete sys-tematic treatise on the subject.) BEAUDENOM, L. (1916) The Path of Humility. Spiritual Progress. 2 vols. ., These excellent books are published anonymously in English. The latter work treats of the progressive use of Confession and Spiritual Direction. *-BENSON, MSGR. ROBERT HUGH (1914) The Friendship of Chribt. Christ in His Church. Paradoxes of Catholicism. BUCKLER, HENRY REGINALD, O.P. Spiritual Perfection through Charity. Spiritual Instruction on Religious Life. Spiritual Considerations. Spiritual Retreat. All are s61id and substantial. CAUSSADE, JEAN PIERRE DE, S.J. (1751 ) Self-abandonment to Divine Providence. Spiritual Letters. , Corn:oft in Ordeals. Ordeals of Souls. Progress in Prayer. The Workings of the Divine Will. The classic writer on abandonment to the will of God. OHAUSZ, OTTO, S:,J. (1939) The Priest and Saint Paul. Light and Shadow in Religious ~'fe. CONSIDINE, DANIEL, S.J. (1923) The Virtues of the Di'vine Child. Con~dence in God. Delight in the Lord. Words o:. Encouragement. EATON, ROBERT, OR. The Sanctuary of Strength. The Ministry of Reconciliation. In Newness ofLife. Divine Refreshme~. The Sword of the Spirit. " The Man of Sorrows. The Garden of God. The Forty Days - " EHL, ANTON The Spiritual Direction of Sisters, translated b)r Felix M. Kitsch, O.F.M.CAP. (A valuable book for superiors.) 118 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS ELLARD, GERALD, S.d. Christian Life and Worship. (A fine sketch of the liturgical backgrounds bf spirituality.) EYMARD, BLESSED PETER JULIAN (1868) The Divine Eucharist. 4 vols. (A Eucharistic saint writes on his favorite topic.) FENNELLY, BERNARD, C.S.SP. Follow Me. (A comprehensive study of the religious vows from, the canonical and spirit.ual viewpoints.) FILLION, LOUIS C., S.S. (1927) The Life of Christ. 3 vols. (Critical, scholarly, and very read-able. ) FROGET, BARTHELEMY, O.P. Thd Indwelling of the Holy Spirit in the Souls of the Just. (A classic treatise on the supernatural psychology of the soul. Bede 3arrett, O.P., has summarized and adapted it in his "Abiding Presence_ of the Holy Ghost.") GERTRUDE, SAINT (1302 ?) The Exercises of St. Gertrude. Love of the Sacred Heart. The True Prayers of St. Gertrude and St. Mechtilde. GIRARDEY, FERREOL, C.SS.R. (1930) Conference Matter for Religious. 2 vols. (This compilation contains a mine of material for the supe'rior's periodic instructions.) GIRAUD, S.M., M.S. (1885) ~ The Spirit of Sacrifice, edited by Herbert Thurston, S.J. GROU, JEAN NICHOLAS, S.J. (1803) How to Prag. Manual for Interior Souls. The Interior of desus and Mary. 2 vols. The Characteristics of True Devotion. Meditations on the Love of God. Self-Consecration. The School of desus Christ. Spiritual Maxims. HILL, OWEN, S.J. (1930) Cbarit~l and Our Three Vows. 119 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS JAEGHE'R, PAUL DE, S.J. One wi?h Jesus. The Virtub of Trust. An Anthologg Of Mgst'icism. JARRETT, BEDE, O.P. (1934) The Religious Life. (An attractive brief history of the develop-ment of religious life.) KEMPF, JOSEPH G. New Things and Old. (A psychological treatment of some important aspects Of the religious life.) LAI, GAETANO CARDINAL DE (1928) The Pas'sion of Our Lord. The Real Presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist. LEHEN, E. DE, S.J. (1867) The Wag .of Interior Peace. (For the scrupulous.) LEHODEY, ABBOT VITAL, O.C.R. " The Wags of Mental Prager. (One of the °best treatises on the subject.). Hol~t Abandonment. LEPICIER, ALEXIS HENRY CARDINAL (1936). Our Father. Jesus Christ the King of Our Hearts. The Mgsterg of Love. The Eucharistic Priest. The Fairest Flower of Paradise. Behold Thg Mother. Go to Joseph. LESSlUS, VENERABLE LEONARD, S.J. Virtues Awakened. .: Names of God. (This work will help one's knowledge of God.) MASSON,YVES E., O.P. The Christian Life and the Spiritual Life. ascetical theology.) MASTER OF NOVICES The Presence of God. Novices of Our Lord. Both are popular books in novitiates. MCELHONE, JAMES F., C.S.C. Particular Examen. (1623) immensely to deepen (An introducti6n to 1'20 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS MCNABB, VINCENT, O.P. The Science of Prayer. The Craft of Prayer. The Craft o'f Suffering. Mary of Nazareth. MAUMIGNY, RENE DE, S.J. (1918) The Practice of Mental Prayer. helpful treatise.) MERCIER, D. CARDINAL (1926) Retreat to Priests. God's Way of Mercy. God's Good Cheer. The Life of Our Lord. MEYER, RUDOLPH J., S.J. (1912) The Science of the Saints. 2 vols. 2 VOLS. MIRIAM TERESA, SISTER, SISTERS OF CHARITY Greater Perfection. (A very lucid and (1927) SCHWERTNER, THOMAS M,, O,P, The Rosary. 1933) 121 SCHRYVERS, ,JOSEPH, C.SS.R. The Gift o/: Oneseff. Our Divine Friend. PARSCH, DOM PIUS, O.S.B The Liturgy Of the Mass. Guhte to the Liturgical Year. The Divine O~ice: How to Say It Devoutly and with Pleasure. Commentary on the Little O[[ice B.V.M. These bo6ks are both scholarly and devotional. PETER OF ALCANTARA,, SAINT (1562) Treatise on Prayer and Meditation. ROCHE, ALOYSIUS The Light of the Anxious Heart. Splendour of the Saints. Bedside Book of Saints. The Things that Matter. Fear and Religion. ° ROUVIER, FREDERICK, S.J. (1925) The Conquest of Heaven. (An important little treatise on per-fect charity and perfect contrition.) SCHARSCH, PHILIP, O.M.I. Confession as a Means to Spiritual Progress. SCHEEBEN, JOSEPH M. (1888) The Glories of Divine Grace. RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS SCUPOLI, LORENZO, THEATINE ( 1 610) The Spiritua( Combat: (An oldfavorite.) SHEEN, MSGR. FULTON J. The Mystic'al Body of Chri'st. The Eternal Galilean. SKELLY, A. M., O.P. (1938) Conferences on the Interior Life. 4 vols. Retreat Conferences for Religious Sisterhoods. Conferences on the Religious Life. STEUART, R., S.J. The Inward Vision The World Intangible. Temples of Et, ernitg. STOCKUMS, BISHOP WILHELM The Priesthood. Diversity of Holiness: In Dive'rs Manners. " The Four First Things. Spirituality of the Priesthood. Vocation to the Priesthood. STUART, MOTHER JANET ERSKINE, R.S.C.J. (1914) Highways and By-ways in the Spiritual Life. Prayer in Faith: Thoughts for Liturgical Seasons and Feasts. 2 vols. Two SISTERS OF NOTRE DAME Soul Clinic: An Examination of Conscience /:or Religious Teachers. (A practi_~al .study of the p~ychological. approach to the spiritual problems of religious.) VERNET; FELIX . Mediaeval Spirituality. (Covers the important spiritual writers of the mediaeval Church and giyes a clear outline of ti~ir teaching.) VINCENT DE PAUL, SAINT (1660) Conferences to the Sisters of Charity. 4 vols. Letters, edited by Joseph Leonard, C.M. St. Vincent de Paul and Mental Prayer, by 39seph Leonard, C.M. WADDELL, HELEN The Desert Fathers, edited in the Catholic Masterpiece Tutorial Series. (From the Vitae Patrum, agreat work of mediaeval piety, are translated choice selections revealing the deeds and maxims of the early desert religious.) 122 ommunicaiJons [EDITORS' NOTE: Limited space forced us to omit some points from letters pub-lished in this issue. Most Of these omitted points were repetitions: the other, com-ments will be referred to in our concluding editorial. With the present number, we conclude the communications .on the subject of spiritual direction. If possible, the editorial, summing up the discussion, will be pu~blished in the May number, o We are grateful to our readers for their ¢oopdration in this matter; and we hope that some good will come from it.] '., From Priests Reverend Fathers: My experience of some twenty-five or more years df spiritual direction of nuns and as a retreatmaster has taught me among a good many other points, the following concerning special direction: 1) The initiative should be taken by the penitent or "~piritual . cfiild," not by the confessor or diiector. I have never forgotten the. principle that our Master of Novices gave us with particular reference to Sisters: "Let them find you; don.'t you go looking for them." 2) It seems to me that everyone needs some special spiritual direc-tion during a certain life period--usually a critical life period, when-ever that may be. It is different with every individual. Also, such critical periods, presenting serious problems, may recur: and each time some special direction may be necessary or advisable. But I believe that the director fosters "spiritual babyhood" if he fails to train his charges to stand on their own feet and solve recurring problems (most of which will be along the same lines) with the help of the solutions and counsels received in the past, and tb apply the same old principles to the solution of such new difficulties as may arise. 3) It is my experience that many Sisters want to consult a "special confessor" concerning problems that they could easily" settle either by themselves, with the aid of principles known to them, or by a talk wlth the superior or with another Sister. These are too ready to find the ordinary confessor "ufisatisfactory." 4) As I said, I think it likely to happen to any individual tha~ on occasion he will need special help. And in this regard I should ' like to say that I have found it hard to understand how so many superiors readily avail themselves of this opportunity, yet make it very' difficult for their subjects to have the advantage of ~he same privilege. I consider this ~iltogether uncharitable, to say the least, if not unfair and unjust.~ Signed, etc. . . 123 COMMI.~NICATIONS Reverend Fathers: The confessor oi rel.igious should have a definite plan for the execution of.his task. His program must have but one objective: the increase in his penitents of an intimate union with God. Since this union is achieved principally through the exercise of the supernatural virtues, it seems that goodspiritual direction should partake of an intim, ate and personal acquaintance with the content of Ascetical and Mystical Theology. ~Many .religious, it is true, know these things theo/eticaily; it is the confessor's business to help. them to repeat tl~em systematically and l~racticall~/. I suggest the following method. If the penitent presents some special probl~m, then let the confessor deal with it in a specialized a~id personal way. If there are no special p~roblems, then the con-fessor should tie. prepared to give a two-minute talk on some topic of Ascetical Theology: These talks must be planned and given sys-tematically. In a few words the donfessor should present to each penitent a succinct notion of his subject. He should make it practical and especially directed to stir the soul to ~ction in a given avenue, or at least to inspire the penitent with greater love and generosity in the service of the Master. He .would thus teach a certain part of Asceti-cal Theology and at the same time .help the penitent to conceive a greater and truer sorrow for sin. As a supplementary measuie, the confessor might see that the community has a solid ascetical manual, and suggest the reading of the pertinent pages of the manual for thgt particular week. Also, he might !uggest the subject spoken of as the subject for the particular examen or for some practice of mortification to be chosen by the peni-tent. The following of such a manual ~rould furnish material for at least three .years' direction; and if. the religious penitent "did not ~receive such systematic direction, why. could he not supply it for him~ self? On the occasion of confession, each penitent could study the manual and apply it in the above-mentioned fashion. To give but one illustration. The first step in the spiritual life is the purification of the soul. This is "accomplished by. a positive means, prayer. There is vocal prayer, as well as mental prayer. To do either well, one is in need of a method: The soul is also purified by a struggle against all sin by patient and constant mortification of the passions. There is enough matter in this paragraph for spiritual direction for an entire year. Two months or more could be spent 124 COMMUNICATIONS on the topic of meditation. It is a question of treating a very small portion of each topic at every confession. If one would wish greater clarification, we could offer the following .example:" prayer--con-sider the notion of prayer: its necessity; Christ's example of prayer: the fruits of prayer: the ideal prayer, etc. Signed, etc . . Reverend Fathers: I should like to make these few observations that longexperi-ence has taught me to be practical in regard.to the direction of reli-gious in their weekly confessions. 1. The ordinary confessor is supposed to be a director, but this does not mean that he is expected to give diiection every week. Nor does it mean that whenever he gives some admonition it must have a distinctively personal application--though this latter is desirable. 2. The initiative for spec!al personal direction should usually come from the penitent: but the confessor may be expected to mani.- fest in a reserved, dil~lomatic way .that he is willing eventually to undertake such direction. For a newly-appointed ordinary confes-sor to.tell his penitents bluntly that h'e is eager to do this would be imprudent, also embarrassing for many, e.g. for those who, for one reason or another, do not care to have any personal guidance. "This becomes a nuisance on the whole community, when ordinary con-fessors are changed frequently, and each new one wants a complete manifestation of soul from each penitent. At most, a brief.presenta-tion of tendend~s and leanings of the penitent is sufficient as a basis for safe guidance. 3. Though we cannot question the need of some spiritual guidance, yet the need can easily be exaggerated, especially by Sis-ters. In some senses, religious need much less personal direction than" do those who strive for perfdction outside religion. If they keep their vows and rules faithfully, are conscientious in following their daily routine, listen attentively to the sermons, instructions and conferences given them, and are submissive to their legitimate supe.- riors--they are by these very things following the lead of the Holy Ghost. Signed, etc. 125 CO/v~d~r~ ICATIONS From Sisters . Reverend Fathers: It is my suggestion, as a means of approach, that the confessor give to each penitent, for the first two weeks, a s~ntence or two of a more general, type on a mystery or a saint whose feast occurs during the week. This may help to give a feeling of confidence that the con-fessor is not in to6 much of a hurry and also that he is willing to be helpful to every one. The third week he may begin to give more specific and personal direction based upon the material confessed. This method may give those who desird direction and are not too timid an opportunity to take the initiative and profit by direction. Those who are more timid will have gained enough courage and con-fidence to take the initiative. Those who do not desire, or at least claim that they do not desire, direction, may be won over, since the confessor did notcommence by dictating to them. These souls'~eem to resent going to a confessor, even set a barrier, if he gives the least impression that he" is to dictate to them. If they do not get that first unpleasant impression they more easily fall in line and profit by the direction. Many times they" will not admit it or even fully realize that they are being directed. I wonder if penitents realize the harm'done by gossipy talk about the sacrament or confessor. Some religious have refrained from going to certain confessors because some soul-repeated the direction which was meant for no one else. If each penitent would keep to herself or himseif what is personal direction or reprimand, less harm would result. Let each one learn for oneself whether or not certain confessors are helpful to them as individuals. Whatever may seem to be resented by one may be greatly appreciated and desired by another. A Sister Reverend Fathers: Fr'om my own experience, may I make this one little suggestion to priests who want to give helpful direction to Sisters. I think that priests sh6uld remember that we are not as learned in spiritual mat- . ters as they are; therefore, it is not always enough merely to tell us what our troui31e is. It is frequently necessary to give a little expla-nation of the nature of the trouble, so that we may see for ourselves why things go wrong and how we are toact. A Sister 126 COMMUNICATIONS Reverend Fathers: It seems to me that the question of the necessity of special: spir-itual direction is in danger of being overstressed onone side and not su~ciently understood on the other. In his Spiritui~t Conferences, Father Faber says: "Sometime~ people go to confession only for the purpos~ of direction. They use a great sacrament merely as a handle or. occasion for something else, for another purpose; ihdeed .a very good one, but a very inferior and subordinate one." Father Faber thinks this fault more common with converts: but I think that it is not infrequent with some Sisters. A Mother Superior Reverend Fathers: There is just one point that I sincerely trust you .will bring out before you close, .namely, that any soul. who practises sincere devo-tion to the Holy Ghost and aims at acquiring a spirit of abandon-ment will always receive spiritual guidance when it is needed. We should all like regular help; but women must be careful not to seek it too much, for, while gratifying, it is not always necessary. Where I am we have schools in so many towns where only the pastor is available that it takes much faith to be resigned: yet, if a miracle is necessary God will perform it for any religious who prays, to the Holy Ghost and practises .abandonment. I have also experienced this when seeking to assist children to return to "God after, a first mortal sin. A Sister Reverend Fathers: In view of past experiences as Mistress of Novices and Abbess of a community of contemplative nuns, I shouid like to express an opin-ion concerning the spiritual direction of nuns. It seems to me that there has been so much written on the subject that it has caused confusion in many minds. We are a strictly clois: tered order, but we enjoy the liberty of conscience that active, unclois-tered religious do, in so far as that is~" possible. However, we have little occasion to know any priests once we have entered here, with the exception of our confessors, retreat-masters, and chaplains--and the latter generally do not hear our confessions. This gives us little choice for confession or spiritual direction other than the priests we thus meet in the course of'our religious life. We may ask for a special spir.- 127 COM~IUNICATIONS itual director and l~ave him come every week. This has been done; but imagine if each of our 40 or 50 Sisters m~de such a demand! They all have the right, if one has. One might thinl~ that cloistered religious shciuld t~ke their-ordi-. nary confessor for ~piritual director. But I have not found many of thes~ wiio understand the enclosed contemplative life. Confessors are apt to judge their penitents' difficulties and trials from the standard of tl~eir own experiences. 'Hbw else can they judge them? Yet, to und'~rstand the enclosed life fully, one must either live it or have unusual depth of understanding. Is the result, then, that we cannot get or do not need spiritual direction? I should say it is neither. Cloistered religious need spiritual direction, but not to the extent that is g.enera.lly implied¯ I think that in general ."over-direction" has .done more harm than insufficient dire~tion. Of ~ourse, I cannot speak for active, but only for contemplative, ~eligious. The following about explains our case:The circumstances of our .daily lives and our daily trials, etc., are pretty much the same. over a period of years. Our occasions for practising virtue, breaking rules, etc., arc also about the same. Our life is not monotonbus, as s0ir.- Jtual writers so often pityingly tell us it is. We who are called to it and live it know it.is not. It is full from morning till night, ~nd monotony finds no pla.ce in it, in spite of the sameness of people. place, prayers, and. work. . (Can the.~spiritual life ever.be monot-onous?) This brings me to what I want to say: that, though we all heed spiritual direction, we do not need it week. after week or even month after month. Based on past experience, [ feel safe in making the statement that the fervent religious is the one who' needs the least direction. She who is faithful to the. inspirations of grace, to her duties; to the self-abnegation required of her to live in love" and h~rmony with her f~llow-religious, generally knows by the light of the Holy Ghost,- the directions of her rule and her superiors, what she is to do-- provided, of course, she has been properly instructed in her novitiate days, Her' iiaterior advancement is of the slow, quiet and, I might add, safe kind: her occasional difficulties "are generally solved between ¯ herself and her confessor, retreat-master, or superior. What of the one whose step grows lax, whose petty jealousies, .pride, self-love, self-will, and lack of self-denial create constant trouble and difficulties' for her? She needs direction, indeed: but she 128 COMMUNICATIONS needs more to take hold of herself and make herself realize that no spiritual director can make.her holy, but only herself~ by doing the things she knows full well she should do. She makes difficulties for herself and others, then looks for a director to get her out of them. She spends long periods in the confessional; and often this has just the effect' it should not have: it gives her an air of importance, a notion that she has a :'special" mission in life, instead of humbling her. It seems to me that when direction has this effect it should be brought to a quick termination. I do not mean to say that spiritual direction is unnecessary. But I think that when the saints spoke of its necessity they did not always mean that it must be given by word of mouth. Our found-ers, whose spirit is contained in our rules, give us their directions and demands in those rules. Also, we have spiritual reading and medi-tation, or should I say interior prayer: and we have the guidance of the Holy Ghost. I do admit that the scrupulous religious may"need much direc-tion; and I think that superiors should be considerate of them and get them a suitable director. Also I know that there have been and still are extraordinary souls who need extraordinary spiritual direc-tion; and may God bless them with an understanding guide. Then there are the problems that at times will confront a mistress of nov-ices- or superior. These must be gone over at length; though gener~ ally they do not fall under th~ heading of spiritual problems, except in so far as .superiors must act according to justice and their con-sciences. This is particularly true of such" problems as cannot or had better not be discussed at a council meeting. Perhaps I am only trying to be important by airing these views to you. Forgive me if I am; and drop this into the waste-basket. A Mother Superior 129 SOUL CLINIC. An Exam;nation of Conscience for Religious Teachers. By Two Sisters of Notre Dame, Cleveland, Ohio. Pp. x -{- 200. Fred- ~ erick Pustet Co., New York, 1943. $2.00. The first part of this excellent wori~ is entitled, "The Psychologi-cal Approach to our Spiritual Problems," and it begins by laying" down "General Principles." The great purpose of religiousteachers is to cultivate a Christlike character in. themselves and in their stu-dents. The. general formula is: motives, ha,bits, character. Motives may be bad or good, natural or supernatural, and one's habits and character will be just such i~s one's motives. Motives reach the will through the mind and heart. Motives of a particular kind will be accepted if they be considered sufficiently valuable. If the mind be kept filled with true values, good emotions naturklly will arise in the heart, and good attitudes in the will. If these be maintained, good habits and a good ~haracter are the result. Hence, to form a Christ-like character; appropriate, as far as possible, Christ's ways of thinking, His .estimations of values, and the emotions of His Heart; Christlike habits of will and a Christlike character will follow. - "We have failed to stabilize our wills by fusing them with the Will of God ¯ . . And why .d~d we so fail? Because we did not build up strong motivation on the basis of Christ's thoughts and emotions. To express it in another way, we failed to use the time for meditation, .reading, examination of conscience, to fill our souls with the thoughts ¯ and emotions of Christ. We did not convince ourselves of the great-ness of eternal values: divine love, everlasting riches, hohor, and pleasures. These considerations would have furnished us with pow-erful motives to command our Weak wills' to seek,the things° above as our Lord enjbined repeatedly" (p. 13). Another idea from psychology of which much use is made is the theory of instincts. Three of these are discussed at some length, namely~ the superiority instinct, the social instinct, and the self-preservation instinct, called also the reproductive or love instinct. The writers point out the original divine purpose of these fundamental ¯ human tendencies, the deviations to which they are.only too liable, and the ways in which they ought to be re-directed and sublimated to supernatural .ends. 130 BOOK REVIEWS Several¯ tables of motives, natural and supernatural, of the habits of a Christlike personality,~ and of the values, transient-and perma2 nent, are given to aid thdse who will seek in this book a method of therapy for their moral maladies. .Under the heading, "Mary in Character-education," the character of the Blessed Virgin is sketched as exemplifying, ideally and con-cretely, the psychological and spiritual principles and methods pro-posed. This treatise, a!ready very good, could be made still bett~r ~much more emphasis were placed on the cardinal importance of ade-quat'e, realistic appreciation of the greatvalues, both in initiating good habits and in strengthening them. One statement that is made and. repeated seems to call for a theological comment. Though the worth of natural motives is well expressed and the utilization of them by Christians is not at all discountenanced, it is said that they are not meritorious for eternity:' But, to.judge from the autho.rity of t.heo- ¯ logians, all who are in the state of grace may hope to find that all their deliberate actions, except only their sinful ones, have merited an in-crease of grace and glory. It would be more surely correc~ to say that to act from merely natural" motives ma~t not be meritorious, or, if supernatural motivation be required, then in all probability the con-dition will be verified in a person acting well while in the staie of grace. The second part of the book gives twenty-five detailed examlna-tibns of conscience, personality, and character. These are designed and arranged both so as to correbpond to the sequenceof the ligurgical year.and to cover the chief points that one must keep in mind to re-model one's personality and build up a character that is like to.that. of Christ.~G. A. ELLARD, S.J. CHAPTERS IN RELIGION. By ÷he Reverend C. A. Prindeville, (3.M., S.T.D. Pp. 354. B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, 1942.$2.00, ¯ A book which attempts to review the.whole of faith and morals in 350 phges is bound to be superficial. Theology cannot be packed into a match-box or sketched on a thumbnail. But what the Cate-chism does, in a pamphlet, for the child mind, this moderately.sized volume does, without the Catechism7s interplay of question and answer, for the more developed adult comprehension. One cannot but marvel at the author's ability to say so much in so few words. 131 BOOK REVIEWS. The book begins by showing what the Church teaches about God, the one nature and the three Persons. ,In brief chapters it proceeds to narrate what revelation'states about Creation and Orig-inal Sin, the Redeemer and His Mother, the Church, Grace and Vir-tue, Sacraments and Sacrifice, the Ten Commandments. It ends, as is right, with the Last Things. Ari index makes the work prac-ticable for reference. The author's grasp of theok)gy is extensive and profound. But he has seen fit to disclose his vast knowledge in a language of ou.tmoded rhetoric which writers of. Catholic books sometimes think must be used. The infinite beauty of G6d is brought out by com-parison, witb""gorgeous sunsets and starlit heavens; the majestic heights of the mountain range, the ocea'n in its va, rying moods of calm or storm, the alluring loveliness in the human face and' form,'" and so on, in words solemn and trite. There occurs even an occa-sional "pe.rcbance." The style is generally clear but dry. Priests and religious are sometimes asked to recommend for con- .verts o~ inquirers a readable b6ok that presents Catholic" doctrine with completeness but brevity. They are embarrassed when they " cannot, and wish someone would write such a work. This volume is almost the answer to their prayer.--C. VOLLERT, 8.J. A SHORT BREVIARY F.OR RELIGIOUS AND THE LAITY. Edited by ,. the MonEs of St.' John's Abbey. Pp. 766.' The Lifurglcal Press, lecje~,ille, Minn. Second edition. 1942. $2.85. ~ By way of providing a Lay Brothers' Office, the monks of St. ~lohn's Abbey have abbreviated the. breviary. They put us all in their debt by thus giving us the cream of t~e entire office, in an . ¯ ,arrangement wisely built up mostly of the Psalms carefully selected, even slightly annotated by rubrication. It will indicate their pro-cedure to sthte that the short Matins have three Psalms and one les-son. Lauds and Vespers each four Psalms, all the other Hours one each, but with the structure and arrangement, and spirit, of the entire Office carefully preserved. The book's vhysical features seem perfect:~the paper is good; the type clear and sharp; the printing in black and red: the binding~ in stout leatherette with four sewed-in ribbon markers; and for a price well within a po0r'man's pocketbook. These facts have !32 BOOK RE'~iIEWS helped sell the first edition in short order: a much larger edition now issues from the press. We have lately heard of religious congregations adopting a modified form ,of Divine Office in lieu of the 'community prayers' formerly said daily in common. We venture to predict, that this Short Breviarg will offer strong incentive for further such adop-tions. But ~a~ide from such common use, the book will provide any one, priest, Brother, Sister, with prayer-book and meditation-book needs, and offer a chance to sample that endless round of psalmody, so conspicuous in the" official homage paid by the Church to God. --- GERALD ELLARD, S.J. THE OUR FATHER. B'f the Most Reverend Tihamer Toth. Translated by V. G. Acjotal. Edited by the Reverend Newton Thompson, S.T.D,~ Pp. 314. B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, 1943. $2.75. The experienced reader knows that he must frequently make allowances for published sermons. In its original setting, a sermon may leave nothing to be desired: from the printed page, it too often makes one regret that he can only read wl~at was meant to be heard. For those unacquainted with Bishop Toth's writings, we give assurance that his published sermons labor under little if any handi-cap. To read any one of them is to come under the spell of a wise, experienced, holy, very practical friend and counsellor. His Excel-lency is never the conscious orator. Rather he. is the shepherd of gouls, on!y concerned that the living waters of God's truth be made available for his charges. He is clear, orderly, interesting, with special talent for apt illustration or anecdote. Because the style is so simple, direct, informal, the reader easily becomes an attentive listener in the presence of a master conversationalist. This, the ninth volume of Bishop Toth's sermons to be made available in English translation, contains twenty-eight sermons on such fundamemental subjects as Belief in God, Life Worthy of Man, Our Father, Creator and Lord. Children of God, Brotherhood of Man, Brothers of Christ, Heaven or Earth, Suffering, Honor and Praise of God, Art and Habit of Prayer, and Intellectual and Eco-nomic Life. Taken together, the series comments on the text of the Our Father, although each sermon is a unit by itself. The book is highly recommended for either community or private spiritual reading, and for meditation subject-matter.--C. DEMUTH, S.J. 133 BOOK REVIEW~ THE SPIRITUAL DIREC;TION OF SISTERS. By the Reverend A. Ehl. Adapted from the German by the Reverend Felix M. Kirsch, O. M. (~ap., Ph.D., Llff.D. Pp. xlx + 483. Benzlger Brothers, New York. $3.75. In its six major divisions this .compact but comprehensive man-ual treats of Religious Vocations, the General and Special Problems pertaining to the Direction of Sisters, the Principal Mean~ e~ployed in their Direction, Canonical Regulations concerning Sisters, and the Obligations of the Vows. A brief introduction explains some can-onical terms. Father Kirsch has'jUdiciously adapted the material to American readers and has added a valuable bibliography. In general, the book is excellent: complete, sound, practical. An enumeration of its specific good pgints would be too lengthy. Suffice to say that it should be very helpful to confessors or directors of Sis-ters, as well as to all priests and seminarians. By reading it, ,supe-riors of Sisters would get a better understanding not only of the work of the confessor, but of the whole religious life. o ¯ It seems advisable to indicate here some points that might puzzle the reader. The author is too much addicted to "must": he does not distinguish with sufficient care between what he counsels and what he really considers of obligation. Moreover, although he apparently wanted to help. the average priest commissioned with the spiritual care of Sisters, yet the comprehensiveness of the work and the indiscrimin'ate references to "the priest," "th.e confessor," "the spiritual director," create the impression that he has in mind a priest who spends his whole time in a convent.~ In fact, the seminarian anal young priest might be con'fused, even discouraged, by the mul~ tiplicity of details. Better for them to read the book for the general impression, then return to the details when this knowledge is required. Regarding the confessor in particular, the author seems prone to have him mix too much in external affairs. As one instance of sev-eral, I cite the following: "The confessor should not dismiss lightly the complaints that may be made by the superior on the above points (i.e. abuses regarding religious exercises), but should diligently inquire into the matter." I fail to see how a confessor is justified in using the complaints of-the superior as a handle-for any ques-tioning of. his penitents.---G. KELLY, S.J. 134 BOOK REVIEWS A BOOK OF SIMPLE WORDS. By a Sister of Notre Dame (de Namur). Pp. 240. P.J. Kenedy & Sons, New York, 1942. 1;2.00. In simple words the author has given us the~ result of much study--study of the peisonality: of Christ. Thecharm and natural-ness of an essay are brought to this series of spiritual reflections. The book might be said to tell the ~tory of Christ's public life. It is selective in that the author has ~hosen from the Gospel story inci-dents revealing the facets of the personality of Christ" too often over-looked or little realized in our reading of the evangelists. A careful,. . prayerful reading of this book will give more than knowledge: it is meant to lead the reader to ~ personal experience of Jesus Christ.' Lacking entirely the formalism of 'a manual, the book should prove in~erdsting and profitable as a source of suggestions for medi-tation. A miracle" is recounted; a~ lesson suggested, or attention called to ~-phase of tl~e Savior's character: a brief and pertinent exhortation is given; artistically the author appeals to three facub ties of the soul: the memory, intellect, and will. The truths pro. posed and the lessons logically drawn are solid, but expressed in a language that sometimes draws attention to itself because of emo-tional expression and occasional cliches. The publisher has pro-vided a medium of expression worthy.of the thought, for. the. printing is attractive, even artistic.-~M. D. CURRIGAN, S.~J. THE PATER NOSTER OF SAINT TERESA. Translated and adapted by the Reverend William J. Doheny, CLS.C~,, J.U.D. Pp. ~x -t- IS0. The Bruce Publishing Gompany, Milwaukee, 1942. Gloth, !;I.50; paper, $1.00. Thi~ work is simply,the concluding portion of St. Teresa's The Wa~/of Perfection. Since its subject-matter is sublime, and since it is from the seraphic heart and the classical" pen of the great Spanish Princess of Mystics, it needs no commendation. By way of introduction and to establish the setting, Father Doheny gives excerpts (28 pages) from the preceding chapters of The Way. In these will be found some of St. Teresa's ideas and exhortation~ on such things as religious poverty, c.harity, detach-ment, and the need of praying for preachers and scholars. In reality nearly all the chief points'of the .religious life are touched upon briefly. In this treatise on the "Our Father" occurs the well-known 135 BOOK REVIEWS account of a nun who once went to St. Teresa in a: state of the o greatest desolation because she could not, like other companions of "the Carmelite foundress, practice mental prayer and "raise herself to contemplation. ~ Upon questioning .her as to how she did pray, St. Teresa found out that the unhappy sister was accustomed to "recite the Lord's prayer in such a way as at the same time to arrive "at the prayer of pure contemplation. Our Lord raised.her even .to the prayer of union. It was evident . . . that she had received.the highest ~a.vors in prayer" (page 52). At the end of her commentary St. Teresa writes: "If we under-stand how we ought to recite the .Pater Noster perfectly, we .shall know how to recite all other vocal prayers. See how our Lord has assisted me.in this work. He has taught both you and me the .way. of perfection . I assure you that I never dreamed this prayer contained such deep secrets. You will notice that it sums up the entire spiritual life, from its first begir~ning to that point where soul is 10st entirely in God." " . If. one were to say the "Our Father," especially the third peti-tion, "Thy will be done," realizing and meaning thoroughly,:p.rac-tically, and persistently, what one s~ys, then one would be very ho!y indeed.--G. A. ELLARD, S.,l. TEN BLESSED YEARS. By Clara M. Tiry. Pp. 306. The Apostolate of Suffering, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 1939. $ l.S0. HAPPY HOURS WITH CHRIST. By Clare M. Tiry. Pp. 187. The Bruce Publ~shincj~ Company, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 1940. $I;75. A unique society has come into existence in the city of Milwau-" kee in recent years ~nd'has spread throughout the country, In 1926 a young woman in Milwaukee, v~h0 had been weighed down with "constant sickness from babyhood, conceived the idea of establishing a society whereby, the sick and all others Who have any kind of suf-fering whatever to bear could be united together, in offering it God. With the assistance of the present bisl~qp of Fargo, N. D., the Most Reverend Aloysius J. Muencb, who at the. time was serving in the capacity of assistant pastor in a Milwaukee parish,. the Apost01at.e of Suffering was established. Ten Blessed Years tells the story of the Apostolate in the words c;fits foundress, Miss Clara M. Tiry. Through the Cathblic Press in the United States the Apostolate was brodght to the attentidn of 136 BOOK REVIEW~ the'suffering, and the society grew rapidly in membership. The book gi~es an account of the activities of the Apostolat~ and'a short sketch of the life of its patron saint, St. Lidwina of Schiedam, a fifteenth century Dutch girl. In the foreword Bishop Muench tells of the .spirit that animates the Apostolate: "Through the Apostolate ~bey feel again the healing hand of Christ, Who loved the sick. It is like balm on a burning wound--Christ's consola-tion that life is yet worth while: that the sick may share in His redemptive work." .°Happy Hours with Christ is a collection of twenty-seven groups of meditations, prayers and spiritual readings for ~he sick. They are appropriately arranged according to the various liturgi-cal seasons. Through them the sick are brought to a deeper realiza-tion of their mighty vocation of suffering and are enabled to bear their pain with greater love and generosity.--W. 3. "BURTON, S.3. HOPE OF LIFE. By Sister Monica, Ph.D. Pp. vii + 162. P. J. Kenedy & Sons, New York, 1942. $1.35. This tersely written little book from the talented pen of a well-known historical and spiritual writer is intended primarily for reli-gious, although the la~ person will find in it much food for reflec-tion. The author writes of death, dreaded death: but death, the door to life. Only a soul. that has loved much both God and man and has meditated long on a personal God could have made these reflections. Some undertaking fails, friends turn against us, love is spurned. And we sit at the roadside brooding. I am so unimporta.nt. But I am important to God. He wants me. When the supreme moment comes, why is it that we die alone? We bare a longing for com-pany, a craving for human s~mpatby. But there comes a time when~ human sympathy will not satisfy; we must have the divine. Let me cling to God. I must keep my heart clean in its impulses and its choices; I must keep my gaze clean, or I lose the way. Arrived at my home I shall find hap